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senadimell · 4 years

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If you've got time to share, I'd love to hear more about your thoughts around Snape and Lupin.

@deathdaydungeon, here you are!

After a conversation with @frederick-the-great, I’ve been thinking about Lupin, Snape, and what they say about morality in HP. I’m not talking about the troublesome white hats, black hats morality, but am instead looking at from this angle: Lupin is nice and well-liked, but often lacks a backbone, whereas Snape is mean and disliked, but incredibly brave. Which is more important? I find Harry’s last sacrifice to be a useful point by which we measure their impact.

Lupin and Snape useful to compare on several important fronts.

As foils for each others’ teaching methods

The way they deal with social disadvantage

Their connections to Harry’s father and how they pass on James’ legacy

1) They both teach at Hogwarts, and are foils for each other in many ways. Snape is mean and takes away points. He’s seen as selfish. His classes are hard and unpleasant for Harry. He’s mean to Neville, and rather than encouraging him, mocks him and belittles him, which just adds to the overall disaster of Neville’s poor self-esteem mixing badly with potions class.

However, even Umbridge admits that Snape’s teaching methods work, and she’s working for Fudge who doesn’t like Death Eaters and has been defied by Snape in GoF, so we know he’s effective for a lot of people, if not Neville.

Yet, for all that, Snape saves Harry’s life multiple times. On top of that, Snape wants to keep the fact that he saved Harry’s life a secret.

“Very well. Very Well. But never--Never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it, I cannot bear...especially Potter’s son...I want your word!

My word, Severus, that I will never reveal the best of you? Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist...”

DH 679, The Prince’s Tale

Conversely, Lupin is nice and rewards points. He’s seen as generous. His classes are fun and interesting for Harry. He’s kind to Neville, and expresses confidence in him that leads him to succeed and do well. That confidence is a huge part of Neville’s character development. I doubt he’d grow into the resistance leader in DH if not for the many times teachers expressed confidence in him, like Dumbledore in PS, Lupin in PoA, Fake!Moody in GoF, and Harry in OotP. Harry certainly approves of his methods:

“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”

PoA 424, Owl Post Again

However, it’s worth noticing that Hermione does worse on his exam than we ever see. She fails the Boggart test, and she and Harry were the only two people not permitted to experience the Boggart in class. Lupin’s teaching methods aren’t foolproof. Despite that, he’s overall seen as a nice guy and good teacher.

Yet Lupin endangers Harry’s life. The secrets he keeps are dangerous: his secret to keep is that he’s a werewolf and actively endangered three students lives with his negligence, as well as the fact that he hid a secret about a believed and convicted mass murderer to save face with Dumbledore.

“That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?”

“A thought that still haunts me,” Lupin said heavily. “And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless--carried away with out own cleverness.

“I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course....he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmasters would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others’ safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month’s adventure. And I haven’t changed...

Lupin’s face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. “All this year I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his tryst while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me...and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using Dark Arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it...so in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.”

PoA 355, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Plan is emphasized because those trips that ended in “near misses” weren’t some impulsive romp. They were planned and coordinated in advance.

“I just saw Hagrid,” said Harry. “And he said you’d resigned. It’s not true, is it?”

“I’m afraid it is, said Lupin. He stared opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

“Why?” said Harry. The Ministry of Magic don’t think you were helping Sirius, do they?”

Lupin crossed to the door and closed it behind Harry.

“No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives.” He sighed. “That was the final straw for Severus. I think* the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he--er--accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast.”

“You’re not leaving because of that!” said Harry.

Lupin smiled wryly.

“This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents ....They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you...That must never happen again.

“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”

PoA 424, Owl Post Again

What strikes me about this conversation is how Lupin shifts the blame around. This doesn’t start with an admission of guilt. He’s not leaving because the parents are right. He’s not leaving because he’s seen how dangerous he can be, or because he owns up to making an incredibly dangerous decision. He’s leaving because Snape forced his hand. If Snape didn’t do that, he would do the same thing he’s always been doing: sweeping his misdoing under the rug and promising himself privately that he’s going to change, but never doing it.

It’s always someone else’s fault for Lupin. That’s a neat tie in to the next point of comparison:

2. Lupin and Snape both experience marginalization in wizarding society, but in very different ways. Lupin faces socio-legal** marginalization and Snape faces socio-economic marginalization.

Lupin’s a werewolf. We see how prejudice affects his life, from his inability to find a job and his worn out clothes to his people-pleasing nature. He’s always acting nice and harmless. He does nothing to play into the condemning stereotypes he’s faced since childhood. Despite that, he still can’t find a job. Nobody will hire him, and people are scared to interact with him. From the way he talks about werewolves, it’s implied that this prejudice is held blindly across Wizarding society. Both Ron and Hermione are horrified to learn Lupin’s a werewolf. *** Later on, he’s legally limited in the kinds of jobs he holds and the kind of magic he’s allowed to perform. Lupin has no control over his transformations, and did not choose his condition.

Lupin’s not really wrong when pities himself. The odds really are stacked against him when he’s treated as if he’s a wolf 24/7, not just a few predictable times a month. His prospects are honestly awful.

The problem is, his condition is dangerous. Thus, the issue of victim blaming is particularly thorny for Lupin. He can’t just accept that he’s a monster for something he has no say over, and yet he can’t escape the fact that sometimes he is monstrous for reasons out of his control. He feels guilty for the people he could have hurt, but also seems to resent that people blame him for something that’s not his fault. The problem is that he carries that lack of accountability into spheres where he should be accountable, like not taking his medication and endangering children because of it.

Snape’s story is very different. He is poor in both the wizard and muggle worlds, and half-blooded, and was sorted into Slytherin as a child. He doesn’t have one condition against him, but checks boxes that make it hard for any one side to accept him. He’s too impure and poor to survive on his own for the Slytherin, but is a Slytherin with Death Eater friends and housemates interested in dark magic, which means he’s never going to fit in with the Order of the Phoenix crowd, especially when some of its members torment him at school. ****4

This essay makes a convincing point that the wizarding world is not a meritocracy, and that people like Snape need powerful patronage to advance if they don’t have the money to support themselves.

I don’t consider the sorting a proper choice. I know Harry does, but I’m of the opinion that at age 11, very few people have been taught how to analyze different perspectives and make an informed decision. Most 11-year-olds are trained to obey their parents and accept their family’s ideology. Harry’s choice rests on very little evidence--most of what he knows is what Hagrid told him, and that he doesn’t want to be sorted into Voldemort’s house along with Draco Malfoy, someone who reminds him of Dudley. I don’t think Snape was very informed either (I’d love to know why), because he doesn’t realize why it Lily wouldn’t be sorted into Slytherin.

“You’d better be in Slytherin,” said Snape, encouraged that she had brightened a little. DH 671, The Prince’s Tale

Either the pureblood rhetoric just wasn’t strong in those days, or his mother didn’t tell him about that.

...“Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?”

James lifted an invisible sword.

“’Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.”

Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him.

“Got a problem with that?”

“No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy--”

DH 671-2, The Prince’s Tale

It seems that most people just follow familial preferences. As to why Snape wants to be in Ravenclaw over Slytherin, my preferred interpretation is that he had a family legacy, knew that Slytherin rewarded the ambitious and clever, and that Slughorn, the head of Slytherin house, had a knack for making the kind of connections that a poor, clever boy would need to succeed.

Nevertheless, once Snape was in Slytherin, the odds were stacked against him. The house in that era was full of people who would later be Death Eaters. “Dark Magic” wasn’t frowned upon among his housemates, and siding with Voldemort wasn’t yet widely acknowledged as a transgression by wider society.

“No, no, but believe me, [Sirius’ parents] thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren’t alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things.…” OotP 112

Additionally, people like Bellatrix were in the years above him, and given how Fred and George acted with younger students, I think it’s highly likely younger students had to find a place in the hierarchy or be the target of ‘pranks.’ He was a halfblood, after all, and dirt poor.

Snape knew these people. He ate with them, slept with them, and went to class with them. It is so much easier to understand and befriend someone you spend time with. I’d say that most people who subscribe to problematic ideologies aren’t just awful to be around all the time, or else these movements wouldn’t gain any traction. They’re likely funny and nice to be around if you’re not on their bad side.

In addition to strong peer pressure to befriend the people who would be death eaters, he was also bullied four to one. His bullies received protection from the headmaster when he was nearly killed or permanently maimed. They were popular and well liked.

The best analogy I’ve heard to describe Snape's Hogwarts situation is that he’s a kid in a rough neighborhood who joins the local gang. It provides protection and the hope of social mobility, and from his perspective, the other gang fights just as dirty (his treatment by the marauders). He doesn’t stop to think that the system is flawed, or that the gang’s very existence indicates the failure of authority and threatens its members. He just sees himself as a kid with nothing who needs help with protection and advancement. We know that Voldemort hasn’t shown his true colors, and it’s possible he showed different faces to different people.

‘Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head Boy an’ Girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get ’em on his side before ... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with the Dark Side.

‘Maybe he thought he could persuade ’em ... maybe he just wanted ’em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –’ (“The Keeper of the Keys”)

Dumbledore’s cited as the reason they turned him down, not their blood status. I think there’s evidence that the wholesale anti-muggleborn campaign wasn’t a huge part of the first wizarding war, and wasn’t implemented until the second, even if there was anti-muggle propaganda. (Muggle=/=muggleborn). It’s implied that Tobias is abusive and that Snape hates him for what he did to him and his mother; it’s implied that faced class prejudice by the muggles around him as well:

“I know who you are. You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river,” she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address a poor recommendation.

DH 665, The Prince’s Tale

When you read stories about people who are able to escape cycles of gang violence and poverty, there’s almost always someone who lifts them out. There’s someone who pushes them, or extends a hand, or believes in them. There are community outreach programs, or churches, or an English teacher that pushed them to do better and try out for a scholarship. That person is usually someone who knows what it’s like and knows how hard it is to get out.

Snape doesn’t seem to get that support anywhere. Slughorn doesn’t seem to notice him, for whatever reason. Lily doesn’t approve of his friends, but also doesn’t understand at all what the pull is--that it’s hard to swim against the current of what everyone else is saying, despite the fact that she feels the same pressure to end her friendship with Snape.

“… thought we were supposed to be friends?” Snape was saying. “Best friends?” “We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Every and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Marry Macdonald the other day?”

DH 673, The Prince’s Tale

In the very same conversation, the fact that Snape is not allowed to share what happened to him with Lupin and the werewolf incident means that Lily will never be able to understand what Snape is facing: That the leader of the good guys makes excuses for and protects people who recklessly endanger the lives of others.

“And you’re being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Wollow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there--”

Snape’s whole face contorted and he spluttered, “Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too!...”

DH 674, The Prince’s Tale

Later in the year after SWM, she tells Snape this:

“None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you.”

DH 675 The Prince’s Tale

She expects him to reject all of his classmates and stand against the tide, despite the fact that she knows how hard it is to do that and can’t comprehend why he sticks with his classmates. She expects him to be grateful to James Potter as if what he did was altruistic, because the Headmaster swore Snape to secrecy and he keeps his promises, despite the fact that someone else was spreading the story. (The fact that she says she heard it instead of talking about it like its common knowledge implies that she heard it from a friend, so our friends the Marauders likely weren’t keeping their lips zipped even if Snape was.)

I don’t say this to shift the blame away from Snape to Lily in regards to Snape joining the Death Eaters. I just want to point out that Lily wasn't someone who could help him break the cycle. He didn’t squander some chance she offered him. She just wasn’t enough to break him out--not empathetic, motivated, or well-informed enough. (I think the fact that they were peers plays a big role in that).

Ultimately, Snape did choose to join the Death Eaters. He did yield to peer pressure. He did obey his assignment and report the prophecy to Voldemort. He spent his youth yielding, following the path in front of him, and choosing what was probably the easier choice: stick with your group, find powerful friends, do what they want, and don’t ask too many questions about their methods. That’s what makes his decision to betray Voldemort so powerful to me.

Here’s part of the passage when Snape betrays Voldemort:

...The adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone...His fear infected Harry too, even though he knew that he could not be harmed, and he looked over his shoulder wondering what it was that Snape was waiting for--

Then a sliding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air. Harry thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand.

“Don’t kill me!”

DH 676, The Prince’s Tale

He was terrified. He knew he was caught between the world’s two most powerful wizards, but it was worth it if he could save his childhood friend.

Then when Lily dies:

“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the share and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?”

“DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone...dead...”

“Is this remorse, Severus?”

“I wish..I wish I were dead....”

“And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly.

DH 678, The Prince’s Tale

Whatever motivation Snape had before is gone. A person’s life who is not his own is worth more than his own, and he’s drowning in guilt. From now on, Snape works to be useful in saving Harry’s life, and later many lives, at risk of death. His choices are a black mark on his record, likely making it difficult for him to get a job when he’s been tried as a Death Eater, and all of his wizarding connections are Death Eaters or their associates. He has no money or influence. Dumbledore hires him.

So Lupin has a single ailment and faces constant social and legal discrimination. He constantly tries to undermine people’s expectations about werewolves by being mild, but unfortunately is too afraid of rejection and its consequences to stand up against bad behavior or take full responsibility for his failings. He has friends who support him, but do it by engaging in risky behavior. He does not stop them. Perhaps he fears exposure and expulsion. Perhaps he just likes belonging for once. Either way, he does not come clean until forced to.

Snape is different; instead of facing outright rejection, he’s from a poor background and grows up surrounded by peers who join something somewhere between a gang and a cult while being bullied by people groomed by a rival organization. The headmaster of his school supports the rival organization and swears him to secrecy about an incident when they endangered his life, sending the message that his life is worthless. That same group continues to publicly bully him. He continues down this path until he realizes that it endangers something he cares about, and makes a decision that puts him at risk of being killed by the two most powerful wizards alive. He changes course.

Snape seems to view his problems as challenges facing him, whereas Lupin sees his problems as part of who he is, and not something he can change. Lupin seems to accept what happens to him in a fatalist kind of way. He sees what happens as inevitable and somewhat out of his control, whereas Snape never seems to blame his circumstances for him becoming a death eater, even though they clearly limited his options. I think that attitude matters. However, because Lupin’s facing a fictional magical malady, it’s difficult to fully blame him for that attitude.

Both Lupin and Snape have to react to powerful societal pressure that makes it difficult for them to succeed. Comparing them is apples and oranges at best, because their circumstances were so different. I don’t think you can judge either’s morality based on group identity, though.

3. Finally, they both act as a window on James: who he was, and what he means to Harry, who never knew him. That means in some way, they help pass on his parental legacy to orphaned Harry.

Hogwarts is Harry’s home, which means that the teachers are more than just teachers, but play a symbolic parental role in his life.

Hogwarts was the first and best home he had known. He and Voldemort and Snape, the abandoned boys, had all found home here.

DH 697, The Forest Again

You can’t understand Harry without realizing what he lacks: a loving home and living parents. He’s always looking into the past to find his parents, and is saddled with a legacy he struggles to understand--why did he live, who were his parents, and what does he need to do now?

Lupin and Snape also share a connection with Harry that goes beyond a normal teacher-student relationship, unlike McGonagall or Flitwick. Snape and Lupin are more personally connected to Harry than the other professors because they know Harry’s parents and went to school with them. I will mostly focus on James from here on out since we know so little about Lily personally and Harry mostly tries to emulate or avoid his father’s behavior and legacy.

They’re also the last people who knew James to survive, and they die almost at the same time. They’re the only teachers apart from Dumbledore who give Harry private lessons. More importantly, these lessons are all tied thematically to Harry’s past. Harry’s experience with dementors and the patronus charm are his first re-encounter with his parents and his past.

Terrible though it was to hear his parents’ last moments replayed inside his head, these are the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he’d never be able to produce a proper patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again.

PoA 243, The Patronus

In the end of PoA, Harry sees himself and mistakenly thinks it’s his father.

“Come on!” he muttered, staring about. “Where are you? Dad, come on--”

But no one came. Harry raised his head to look atet he circle of dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear--but no one was coming to help this time--

And then it hit him--he understood. He hadn’t seen his father--he had seen himself--

Harry flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his want.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” he yelled.

PoA 411, Hermione’s Secret

So the patronus itself is linked up with Harry’s past, and his coming-of-age. He doesn’t rely on others to save him, but must do it himself. (Though Harry’s never really trusted the adults to save him.) It’s interesting to note that Harry actually learns the Patronus charm under Lupin’s tutelage.

On the other hand, Snape introduces Harry to the unpleasant side of his father’s legacy. Through Snape, we see that James wasn’t just a little cocky, but a bully.

“Apologize to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him. “I don't want you to make him apologize,” Lily shouted, rounding on James. “You're as bad as he is.” “What?” yelped James. “I'd NEVER call you a--you-know-what!” “Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can--I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.” She turned on her heel and hurried away.

....

He had no desire at all to return to Gryffindor Tower so early, nor to tell Ron and Hermione what he had just seen. What was making Harry feel so horrified and unhappy was not being shouted at or having jars thrown at him; it was that he knew how it felt to be humiliated in the middle of a circle of onlookers, knew exactly how Snape had felt as his father had taunted him, and that judging from what he had just seen, his father had been every bit as arrogant as Snape had always told him. OotP, Snape’s Worst Memory, emphasis added

It’s interesting note that Harry fails to learn Occlumency from Snape. (In fact, we never see Harry use magical skills he learned from Snape apart from Expelliarmus, which is...important). At the same time, he gains an important perspective.

You can’t have James without this part of him. However kind James was to Lupin, however brave James was when he saved his wife, he was neither kind nor brave when he bullied Snape. It’s uncomfortable and awkward, but it’s important.

When he had finished, neither Sirius nor Lupin spoke for a moment. Then Lupin said quietly, “I wouldn’t like you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He was only fifteen —”

“I’m fifteen!” said Harry heatedly.

OotP

Harry rejects the idea that actively bullying someone is just folly of youth. He knows what it’s like to be disenfranchised. Regardless of what Snape and James’ relationship was, he didn’t deserve that kind of humiliation. And Lupin watched, and defends him. Harry has to grapple with that.

Ultimately, Snape and Lupin do more than just connect him to his past. They also teach him his two signature spells, Expelliarmus and Expecto Patronum. One saves his soul, and one saves his life and frees the wizarding world from Voldemort because of Voldemort’s fractured soul.

Snape and Lupin as moral counterpoints

How do we evaluate this:

“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”*****5

DH 213, The Bribe

and this?

“Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.

DH 758, Seventeen years later

Ultimately, I don’t think it’s really that useful to pit two people with different backgrounds against each other. At the same time, they represent two different halves of a question: when it comes down to it, should we try to be kind or brave? I don’t think you have to pick one, but when pursuing the two, there are bound to be moments of conflict.

I always come back to the lyrics to Last Midnight from Sondheim’s Into the Woods.******6

You're so nice You're not good You're not bad You're just nice I'm not good I'm not nice I'm just right I'm the witch You're the world

Snape doesn’t care about being nice. I think this is where most non-Snape fans start pulling out the pitchforks and torches. Snape isn’t nice, and he’s not nice to kids. He’s not nurturing.*******7 He’s abrasive, allergic to coddling, and petty when he can get away with it. In fact, most of the people he’s ‘nice’ to are significantly more powerful than him, or someone he needs to be on good terms with.

Lupin is nice. He’s mild. He’s often kind. However, he often picks being liked over standing up for something.

What does that result in? He doesn’t stand up for Snape. The bullying continues and keeps Snape firmly on his path. He wins the respect of the Gryffindors with the Snape Boggart incident but loses whatever credibility he had to tell Snape to ‘put their past behind him.’

On the other hand, Neville’s bravery in DH was nurtured by Lupin’s confidence. Neville kept hope alive and led a rebellion. Lupin is one of the few adults that Harry fully respects and trusts up until the Grimmauld place confrontation. (He likes Hagrid and Molly, but doesn’t necessarily trust them to make decisions in their best interest, while he usually respects Lupin’s judgement). Harry loves him, and it’s because he loved him and watched him die that he needs to act and fight back against Voldemort.

Ultimately, Harry’s relationship with James and the adults who pass on his legacy is one of the most important symbolic relationships in the book. The thematic resolution of the series is Harry’s act of sacrificial love.

He did not know what to feel, except shock at the way Snape had been killed, and the reason for which it had been done....

...He could not bear to look at any of the other bodies, to see who else had died for him. He could not bear to join the Weasleys, could not look into their eyes, when if he had given himself up in the first place, Fred might never had died...

He turned away and ran up the marble staircase. Lupin, Tongs...He yearned not to feel....He wished he could rip out his heart, his innards, everything that was screaming inside of him.

To escape into someone else’s head would be a blessed relief....Nothing that even Snape had left him could be worse than his own thoughts.

DH 660-662, The Prince’s Tale

He rushes to the headmaster’s office to escape into Snape's memories. His memories convince Harry that sacrificing himself is the expedient thing to do, and he heads to the Forbidden Forest. To enable is last sacrifice, he uses the Resurrection stone to witness his parents and his father’s friends. Their combined testimony is enough to ameliorate his personal fears about following through with this final act.

Lupin and Snape leave entirely different legacies behind. Lupin encourages and inspires. As an authority figure, he gives people like Neville space to grow and his compassion towards Harry gives him the strength to face his demons. Harry’s decision in DH to die must have something to do with the kindness he was shown, and the sacrifices people who loved him made for him, of which Lupin is a part. Despite what he saw in Princes’ Tale, Snape wasn’t one of the people who’d make an appearance with the Resurrection stone.

Yet Snape sacrificed his life for Harry and the wizarding world, entities that Snape didn’t seem to like and that certainly weren’t kind to him. His form of bravery is about endurance, tenacity, and willingness to do what is right even when you hate your allies and no one else is going to credit you for what you do. And that’s very Harry. Even if he hates Draco, he’s not about to let him die if he can help it. Harry has much more in common with Snape than Lupin, I think.

Since this is about souls, let’s return to the Patronus charm. Snape’s not the kind of person who typically inspires that kind of emotion required to cast a Patronus in others, at least from what we see in Harry’s perspective. Yet because he has experienced that love, he can cast it and shows Harry what needs to be done. Snape enables Harry to dive under the ice. Lupin’s the kind of person who can inspire a patronus, but isn’t the one to make the sacrifice play until after Harry confronts him about his duty to his family. Ultimately, though, they both sacrifice themselves in the Battle of Hogwarts.

* Ever since I realized how blatantly tangential Order of Merlin must be to Snape’s character motivation, that line has frustrated me to no end. There’s no way frothing-at-the-mouth PoA Snape just really coveted that Order of Merlin. He’s often petty, yeah, but if Lupin believes it’s just about that and has nothing to do with Snape’s real conviction about how dangerous Lupin’s actions were, he’s deluding himself. I hate that he passes it on to his students.

**Yes, I am making up words today. Lupin’s faces prejudice and discrimination on a social level enforced by increasingly powerful discriminatory laws.

*** It’s worth noting that if we take every book as equally valid canon, then there’s either widespread ignorance towards lycanthropy, as Lockhart convinces everyone he was able to “cure” the Wagga-Wagga werewolf, and as teenage Horcrux!Riddle said Hagrid raised werewolf cubs under his bed, or else lycanthropy is actually a wide range of conditions under a wolfy umbrella ranging from treatable to incurable. Lupin is our primary source for lycanthropy: he’s the one who tells us about Greyback, for example. If we hold the first two books as equally valid, then perhaps we only know about Lupin’s particular type of condition. That’s the Watsonian analysis, anyways.

****4 These footnotes are getting ridiculous. Basically, there’s no consensus on what Dark Magic is, and on what basis it’s Evil. This essay goes into things that are labelled as curses. I’m inclined to believe that the vast majority of Dark Magic is just Magic We Don’t Like for Reasons.

The definition of what is and isn't considered Dark Magic is never explained: often it just seems to mean "a curse I don't approve of". Even "curse" has never been satisfactorily defined, but we can certainly say that not all curses are regarded as evil, since some appear to be on the Hogwarts curriculum, and are certainly performed without censure.

*****5 While I paired the quotes at the top of this section together for dramatic effect, it’d be a shame not to look at the context of the Lupin fight.

“I thought you’d say [that your mission was top secret],” said Lupin, looking disappointed. But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to. Harry hesitated. It was a very tempting offer.

Hermione then asks about Tonks.

“I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually”... ...“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”

...“Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless--unless they’ve got to.”

...“I know I shouldn’t have called him a coward.”“No, you shouldn’t,” said Ron at once. “But he’s acting like one. “ “All the same...” said Hermione.

“I know,” said Harry. “But if it makes him go back to Tonks, it’ll be worth it, won’t it?”

He could not keep the plea out of his voice. Hermione looked sympathetic, Ron uncertain. Harry looked down at his feet, thinking of his father. Would James have backed Harry in what he had said to Lupin, or would he have bene angry at how his son had treated his old friend?

DH 213, The Bribe

Harry feels personally betrayed that someone who has a family and child would abandon them. Here he is unyielding and accusing to someone he cares about in the hopes that they re-evaluate what matters. It’s a rather Snape-like tactic, actually. Or else a Dumbledore one.

I love the dialogue in this scene, but have some major issues with how Harry’s internalization drops out the window for shock value. JKR does the same thing when has Harry pull the Veritaserum trick in HBP. I don’t like it.

******6 The witch and Snape aren’t perfect analogues, since she’s decidedly more amoral in my opinion, but they’re both contractually-motivated characters whose humanity is shown by their (platonic/familial) love for a more “innocent” character and the guilt at the innocent character’s sacrificial death. Guilt doesn’t lead the witch to do anything productive, and for Snape it does, which is where they diverge on the character path.

*******7 Draco may be an exception to this. However, watching Snape struggle to build rapport with Draco in HBP leads me to think that while Snape’s been on Draco’s side, he’s still not “nurturing,” or in other words, good at cultivating trust and encouraging the strong and wholesome parts of someone’s personality to grow.

#hp meta #snape #pro snape #severus snape #remus lupin #i haven't figured out how to make this appear above the cut...

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janicho88 · 4 years

Text

Come Back

Paring- Dean x Reader

Summary- You push Dean away when a monster attacks, and end up with a small injury instead of him. How does Dean repay you? By telling you to get out. Where will you go, what are you going to do now? Will you find your way back, or does fate have other plans?

Warnings-Lot of angst, Little, I mean little fluff in this one. Language, just a few words. Angry Dean, upset reader, Major character injury and hospitalization, possible brain injury.

A/N This story decided to take its own course. It was only going to have a smidge of angst, and well this happened. I’m sorry. There will be a part 2.

It had been a rough hunt, you all thought you were on a salt and burn for a vengeful spirit terrorizing a retreat. Turns out it was a couple of werewolves changing their tactics, picking off the participants. One of the werewolves took you all by surprise when it snuck up behind Dean and grabbed for him. You quickly pushed him out of the way as the werewolves claws came down, tearing through your side. The boys quickly fired off shots taking out that one. Turning they quickly got its friend who came at you next

Dean never spoke to you as you all cleaned up the mess and left. Sam had helped you quickly with your cuts and you headed back to the bunker. Exiting Baby, and walking inside you barely made it into the War room before Dean started yelling at you. He told you how reckless you were, how you were going to get them hurt, and you were in the way. They would be better off if you weren’t hunting, or around anymore. When you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore you responded with a ‘fine’ and headed to your room. You collapsed crying on your bed, you just hadn’t wanted Dean to get hurt.

It was well past midnight when you had calmed down, you began gathering your belongings in your duffel bags. If they boys didn’t want you here, you would leave. You left a note for Sam that just said, Be safe. Heading to your car, you tossed your things in and took off for Jody’s.

A week later Jody had heard the boys were on a case nearby. You didn’t want to chance running into them so you left quickly to take a hunt in Washington. That had been the last time you talked with Jody. You didn’t want to risk talking to the guys friends, and making Dean even madder at you. Since you left neither of them had tried to contacted you.

You were on your own taking hunt after hunt, to the point you didn’t care if you made it. You had been friends with the guys since you were kids, had moved into the bunker two years ago, and been fighting your feelings for Dean for years. It had been just over two months since you left, that was the longest you had ever gone without talking to one of them, it definitely hit you hard.

You were in Minnesota, and had to break down and ask Donna for help with a Vamp’s nest. Donna hadn’t seen you in a while and when you got out of your car at the motel, she had to hide her shock. There were dark circles under your eyes, it looked like you hadn’t been sleeping much if at all, and you definitely had lost weight.

“Hey lady, how are you doin?” she asked.

“Fine, Donna. Thanks for the backup on this. How have you been?”

“You Betcha! Good, all good. Saw Jody and the girls last week.”

“How are they?”

“They’re all good. So um have you talked to the guys..”

“Don’t go there Donna,” you interrupted.

You two went to the office and got a room to share. You had a little bit of work to do on the case before you could hit the nest. After splitting up and gathering information from police and victims you met back at the hotel. Putting everything you had together you were ready for the next day, and Donna went to sleep. While she was out, you sharpened your machete, and looked over your plan again before crashing for a few hours.

The next morning went well in regards to you both making it out alive, uninjured was another story. You only made it out because Donna had quick reflexes. After beheading 5 vamps you were slowing and missed one behind you. Donna turned just in time to take it down. Neither of you had any serious injuries, a few bumps, bruises, and you had minor cuts where one of the vamps had gotten a hold of you and bitten.

Cleaning up back at the hotel Donna got on you about taking better care of yourself. You told her you were fine and walked into the bathroom shutting the door. Donna was asleep when you came out after your shower. You wrote her a note thanking her for her help and telling her you were sorry, but had to get on the road. You walked out and hit the road alone again.

It was a few weeks later when you got a call from Jody. Alex’s birthday was coming up and they were going to have a party at Donna’s cabin. She really wanted you to join them. You told her you would try, but were unable to make any promises. You weren’t going to bring them up but had a feeling the guys would be there, and you weren’t sure if you were up to seeing them. Sam had texted you a few times, but you hadn’t responded. Dean never tried to get a hold of you.

Day of the party you pulled up to the old cabin, sure enough, Baby, was parked amongst the other cars. You sat staring at the cars debating what to do. Go in for Alex, or let the fear of running into Dean keep you away. A tapping at your window had you jumping in your seat Turning your head you saw Sam standing outside your car. Opening your door you exited the car.

“Hey, I wasn’t sure if I should come out or not. After a half hour passed without you getting out I figured I would come see you before you just drove off again.”

He gave you a hug and you said “Hi, Sam.”

“That’s all I get, hi? You have been gone four months without a word. How are you, where have you been?”

“I’m fine, been here and there.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“What do you want me to say, Sam? I was told to leave, that you both would be better off!”

“You know how Dean gets after one of us gets hurt, especially if it is to save him. He was worried, yes, he took it out all wrong. He misses you, we both do.”

“I highly doubt that,” you respond walking past Sam toward the cabin.

Entering the house Jody and Charlie were the first people you ran into. The fiery red head quickly wrapped you in a big hug, Jody quickly following. You spoke with both of them for a few minutes, catching up on what you missed over the last few months before moving further into the cabin. You were searching out the birthday girl when you headed toward the kitchen. As you rounded the corner you saw Dean in there and quickly turned the other way. Back already turned, you missed the way Dean’s head shot up with a hopeful look that fell swiftly when he saw you were retreating from him.

Walking back into the living room you saw Donna talking with Alex and Claire and joined that group. Donna and Alex both giving you a hug, while Claire gave you a “what’s up runner?”.

Claire had been talking about a hunt she went on with Jody, while Alex filled you all in on her classes and work. When Donna went to check on Dean who was in charge of the grill, and Claire was occupied by Castiel, Alex asked if you wanted to join her out front.

“What’s wrong birthday girl?”

“I just needed some air, too many people in there for me.”

“Well it is a party, you know, for you.”

“It’s a party I didn’t want. Love you all, but I’m not the big party type. You are the reason for the party, my birthday is the excuse to get you here.”

“What are you talking about Alex?”

“We all know what’s going on with you, you are avoiding everyone. So we came up with a reason to get you to come around. Jody bought me concert tickets to agree.”

“I’m fine, there was no need to do this.”

“Yes, there was. We are all worried about you, Dean especially. He’s constantly talking to Jody and Donna about you, a get together was his idea. We just added the why.

“Dean made it clear, he doesn’t want me around. The man never even tried to contact me, and you and Sam want me to think he cares about how I’m doing.”

“He really does.”

“I can’t do this,” You turned and walked back in the cabin to grab your coat and keys, it was time to go.

Donna and Sam were standing near your coat when you went to grab it.

“Hey where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Time for me to go.”

“You barely got here, it’s Alex’s birthday, stay awhile.”

“Right it’s her party you apparently threw because of me, I need to go, don’t worry about me anymore.”

Dean saw you grabbing your things and heading outside. “Y/N, Y/N wait please!”

“I don’t want to talk to you, why should I Dean?”

“I need to talk to you please, stop!”

You stopped walking, but didn’t turn around. “Why know, after four months, why do you suddenly care about talking to me?”

“I have always cared about you, I didn’t think you would have left or ignored us for the last four months, I never thought you would have been hunting on your own.”

“You told me you were better off without me! Did you really expect me to stick around?”

“I was an idiot, I figured you would have ignored me for the night, maybe the next day. When Sam said you were gone I called Donna and Jody, and Jody said you were at her house. I thought you would stay there for a few days, then come home. We took a hunt close by, I was going to come get you and apologize, but you were gone. You’ve been running nonstop, you need a break! You and I both know you shouldn’t be hunting alone.”

You just stood there with you back to Dean, not answering him.

“Forgive me, don’t forgive, hell don’t even talk to me anymore! I don’t care as long as you come back, and I know you're safe and not hunting alone. Please Y/N!” You turned around when you heard the break in Dean’s voice, and there were tears on his face to match.

“Please, don't run again, let’s go back inside. When we leave tonight, I wish you would come back to the bunker. If you can’t do that at least go to Jody or Donna’s, don’t go back on your own. I need to know your safe,” he begged.

“Why do you care about where I am now? You said it yourself, I’ve been gone four months, if you really wanted to know where I was or talked to me you could have tried calling.”

“Sam called you, you never answered.”

“Right, Sam did. But never you, you didn’t care where I was!”

“NO! I was worried sick about you! If you’re not going to answer Sam, why in the hell would you answer ME? I called other hunters and asked if they saw you to let me know without telling you. I went after you so many times, but by the time I got the call and got there you were gone. That Vamp’s case you took with Donna? I woke her up at 2 am pounding on the door, but you had already left.”

“You wanted me to leave, and I didn’t want to stick around your friends get yelled at from you again. I don’t want to put them in any more danger by being around me like you said.”

“I was mad that night because you got hurt. You got hurt trying to save me. I would rather a monster went after me than you any day. It would kill me if I lost you. These last four months have been worse than my four months in hell, but at least I knew you were alive.”

Stepping closer to him you asked, “Dean, why do you care so much about what happens to me, Sam I get, he’s your brother. Me, I’m just your friend.”

“You used to be me best friend, then I did something stupid. I fell in love with you. I couldn’t do that to you though. You deserve better, and if I ever did anything about those feelings you would have a big target on yourself. Not to mention I couldn’t lose my best friend, when she didn’t feel the same. So I did what I needed to keep you safe, I tried to push you away. This last time I pushed you too far, I never wanted to push you out of the bunker. I hated hurting you, but I just couldn’t let you get close. Then I lost you anyway.” Tears were falling from both of your faces now.

You walked closer to Dean, putting your hand up to stop him from talking, “Can we go back to the part where you said you fell in love with me? Do you still feel that way?”

Instead of answering you Dean moved your hand and crashed his lips into yours. Neither of you pulling away until you needed air. “Does that answer your question? Does that mean I’m not the only one who feels this way ”

“Yes to both. But it also doesn’t mean you're off the hook Winchester. When I leave here, I’ll do what you asked, and not go off on my own. I will go back to Jody’s.” Dean’s face fell at that. “I won’t shut you out this time. I think we have some talking to do before I come back to the bunker.”

“You’ll come back?”

“Eventually, I think so. I’m not going to promise you something I don’t know if I can keep.”

“Why don’t you just come back now?”

“I know you, you know you, I come back now and we don’t settle anything. We get back to the bunker and we end up falling in bed. You hurt me Dean, and I’m not over that yet. I need some time to process all this, we need to work through this before jumping in.”

The two of you headed back inside to join the others. Sam came up when Dean went back to check the grill he abandoned.

“Does this mean you are coming home with us?” Sam asked with a smile.

“No.”

“Wait, what? I saw you two outside. It looked like everything was good between you?”

“Okay, one, you really need to work on this peeping Tom thing you have going on. Second time today you’ve watched me through a window buddy. Two, things are better. I’m not ready to come back yet. He hurt me, and I need to work over everything he said to me today. When we leave I’m going to go stay with Jody.”

“Please don’t shut us out this time.”

“I won’t, your brother and I have a few things to talk about.”

After the party you headed for Jody’s. Claire rode with you, while Alex was with Jody.

“You know he is crazy about you right? He was driving everyone crazy when you went off on your own.”

“What?” You had been lost in your thoughts and missed what Claire had said.

“Dean, he went nuts when you left. I know you two talked, Sam said you were making out. So why are you coming home with us?”

“I need a little more time Claire.” The rest of the ride was silent except for the radio.

Gif by soluscheese

You had spent almost two weeks at Jody’s. Dean had called you every day to talk, the two of you talking about the day, hunts the guys took, one you went on with Claire, much to Dean’s dismay. You had talked a few times about the fact Dean really didn’t want you hunting, but that was only because he was worried you would get hurt. Almost every call ended with him apologizing for what he did, and telling you he hoped you would come back soon. A few days after you arrived a bouquet of flowers was delivered, white and pink roses with carnations of the same color. All your favorites. The card said, ‘I can’t wait for you to come back home. Love Dean.’

Jody had sat you down to talk about the whole situation with you. You admitted you had forgiven Dean for what he said, and you understood why. You were afraid to go back to the bunker, you just didn’t know why. Talking over everything with Jody helped you see, you were scared to go back knowing how Dean felt about you. Up until this fight Dean had been the one constant in your life, well except for his time in hell, and purgatory. You knew how you felt about him, but worried that his feelings weren’t going to last. Then what were you going to do? Have to leave the bunker and lose your best friends again? You really did love Dean, and you owed it to him and you to give this a chance.

You had been putting your things back in your duffle bag at the end of the second week, it was time to go home. Your phone rang, but this time it wasn’t Dean on the other end, it was Sam.

“Y/N, Dean’s in the hospital and I can’t reach Cas.” was all you heard before dropping to the floor, Jody took the phone and Sam filled her in.

Dean had been hurt on their last case. They thought there were four demons, they had those taken care of and cleaned up. They were back at the motel when one smoked into the little cleaning lady and grabbed Dean. Sam had gone out to grab dinner and came back to a trashed hotel room and Dean gone. Luckily his phone was in his pocket and he could trace it. By the time he found him the Demon had beat him up pretty bad. He had multiple cuts, and bruises, they were worried about internal injuries and were running tests now.

The hunt was in Nebraska, just a few hours south of where you were, you grabbed the bag you had been packing and ran out to your car. Jody wasn’t even out of the house before you pulled out of the driveway.

You made the drive much quicker than usual, a call to Sam gave you the floor and the room number Dean had just been transferred to. When you arrived up there Sam met you in the hall Dean was on the ICU floor so only family was allowed in the room. Sam had told the nurses you were his wife so you would be able to enter.

Walking up to his bedside you could feel the tears sliding down your face again. Talking to Jody yesterday you were so worried about what would happen if a relationship didn’t work and you lost your best friend. You should have been thinking more of what you guys do, and how that could take Dean from you any day. You had been in love with Dean for years and wanted this more than anything, why had you fought it. Now you might never get that chance. Sitting down in the chair beside the bed you grabbed one of Dean’s hands with one of yours and the other ran through his hair. Leaning up slightly you placed a kiss on his cheek, careful to avoid the tube running out of his mouth.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t come home with you when we left Donna’s. I was fighting us, and I never should have done that. You are it for me Dean Winchester, I just need you to wake up now. Please Baby, can you wake up for me?”

The only response you got was the steady beat of his heart on the hospital machines. Sam came in and sat in the chair on the other side of the bed, both of you waiting for any sign of Dean waking up. Sam told you Dean had gone into surgery before you got here. They had found some internal bleeding which needed to be repaired, he had lost a fair amount of blood and also needed a blood transfusion, it didn’t appear any organs were damaged.

A neurologist came to talk to you a few hours later. Both the MRI and CT scan of Dean’s head showed slight swelling around the brain. This could just be bruising and go down before Dean wakes up, from a concussion, or something more. They would be keeping an eye on him, but until he woke up there was no telling how bad it was.

Both you and Sam spent the night in the hospital, with no changes appearing in Dean. A nurse and doctor came to check him over and asked the two of you to step out for a few minutes. Sam convinced you to go to the cafeteria to at least get a coffee or something. Walking back to Dean’s room with Sam’s coffee and your hot chocolate, you saw the doctor leaving the room. When he looked up and saw you he came over to talk to both.

“His vitals are getting stronger, still weak but better than yesterday. We don’t want to take him for another CT scan right now, so I can’t tell you if the swelling has gone down.

“When will he wake up?” you asked.

“That’s hard to say. If he keeps fighting it could be a few days, although if he takes a turn there is a chance he may not wake up.”

Sam had to grab you with his free hand to keep you from falling when your knees buckled. Dean, might not wake up. That couldn’t happen, he had to come back to you. The two of you headed back into the room to sit and wait. Going back to your chair you grabbed Dean’s hand in yours once again, and pleading with him to please wake up. It had fallen to Sam to keep Jody, Donna, Charlie, and Garth appraised of Dean’s condition. They would have been there in a heartbeat to see him, but wouldn’t have been allowed into his room. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone. Although you kept praying to Cas, who had yet to appear.

The fourth day sitting in the hospital you caught Sam watching you.

“Yes?”

“I’m just wondering what you are going to do when Dean wakes up?”

“What do you mean?’

“Are you going to run again? I don’t know if Dean could handle that.”

“No, I was actually packing my bag to come back when you called me. He’s it for me Sam, I can’t lose him.” you tell him with tears in your eyes once again.

Two days later your head was laying on the bed, with your hand holding Dean’s when you felt movement. You jerked up so fast Sam jumped at your reaction. Looking down at Dean’s hand his fingers were starting to move.

“Dean? Baby can you hear me?”

“Dean, it's Sam and Y/N, can you hear us?” Sam ran to the hall to get a nurse or doctor.

“Please, please wake up Dean. Come back to me.”

Sam came back in the room followed by a doctor and nurses, who pushed you back from Dean. He was slowly becoming more coherent, when he started fighting the tube in his throat they pulled it out. Sam and you were in the corner watching, hoping this was it, Dean was finally coming back to you. They checked his vitals, everything looked good. Someone went to get him ice chips another got him readjusted. Since he was awake they were moving him to a room soon, and the neurologist would be in to check on him. Dean had yet to say anything but you all figured it was because his throat was so dry from days without drinking. You took the ice chips from the nurse so you could give them to Dean.

Watching the last of the medical staff clear out you gave Dean an ice chip and turned to him with a smile.

“I am so so happy to see you’re awake and okay! I was so afraid I had lost you,” you tell him as you lean down to kiss him.

“I’m glad you're excited to see me Darlin. Um.. Who are you exactly?”

Part 2

Tags- @talesmaniac89 @malfoysqueen14 @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @superfanficnatural @flamencodiva @winchest09 @deanwanddamons @katehuntington @anathewierdo

#supernatural #dean x reader #Dean Winchester

207 notes · View notes

vivithefolle · 3 years

Note

“Oh great, it’s the Harry stans again” I’m a wolfstar stan my dude

“So Harry’s desire is a family” yes, and what comes with having a family? Love, also Harry didn’t have his found family yet, just a few friends, and he can have his found family and still want his parents

Fred and George don’t bully him, they tease him like all big brothers do. And Ron went to them when “Scabbers” “died” so he doesn’t hate being vulnerable in front of them

“Let’s think deeper than just “hurr durr rawn wants powur” That is why though. Even at the end of DH he says “the unbeatable wand, Harry?!” Meaning he wants it for its power and is shocked Harry doesn’t

Also, Harry didn’t tell Ron to go with him to save Malfoy, and he only wanted Ron to come to the Ministry because he didn’t want to put his friends in danger. The only reason he was ok with Ron going is that Ron said he would. Why do you think Harry and hermione are selfish and don’t deserve him? That ain’t true

Harry got glimpses in to Voldy cause thats influence. Harry can’t be controlled because he is so full of the “force (Voldy) detests”. It is said multiple times that’s why. And he is so “purely and strongly” associated with love. It’s what makes Harry, Harry. Despite what he’s been through, he remains “pure of heart” as Dumbledore put it, he sacrifices himself and it sets off a protection charm for everyone, he tries to save Voldy, etc. and we do see it shown from him more than Ron. I could bring up countless examples but I’ll just leave it at: Harry felt bad for Hagrid when Aragon died and wanted to be there for Hagrid, despite Aragon nearly eating him. Ron did not. I love your blog btw, I just don’t agree with you on this lol

[Previous]

I’m a wolfstar stan my dude

Ah yes, Wolfstar, the pairing where one guy weaponized his friend’s most important, life-changing secret in order to play a “prank” that could have ended in manslaughter, because the one guy gave his friend’s feelings as much consideration as a plastic bag’s. Also said guy later believed that said friend could be a traitor. A love story for the ages surely.

Yes. And Ron’s desire is also tied around love. Because Ron believes that he needs to accomplish things to stand out and be “worthy” of loving. That’s his whole thing during the entire books, that’s what drives him to sometimes put his foot in his mouth up to his thigh and make stupid mistakes, because he’s trying to earn love, he’s going out of his way to earn the love of his friends when they already love him but are just pants at showing it.

Fred and George don’t bully him, they tease him like all big brothers do. And Ron went to them when “Scabbers” “died” so he doesn’t hate being vulnerable in front of them

Fred and George absolutely bullied Ron. That’s just fact. Look at Order of the Phoenix, look at how they treat him through the books. Fred and George may be popular characters but as big brothers they are AWFUL.

And who’s to say Ron went directly to them? We see them “““comfort”““ Ron but maybe Ron was just sitting with Harry and Ginny and lamenting Scabbers’ death then Fred and George came in and decided to add their five cents. Also in spite of how horrible Fred and George can be to him Ron still loves and admires them greatly - case in point, how he still trusted them about the bogus spell to turn Scabbers yellow.

Yeah, because Ron’s pragmatic still. Imagine what you could do with such a powerful wand. What’s the point of the Invisibility Cloak when you have a super-powerful wand that may cast the best Invisibility Charm ever? How about enchanting stuff with that wand? What of that wand’s ability to heal people? Imagine all you could do if you had that thing up your sleeve.

Also, Harry didn’t tell Ron to go with him to save Malfoy

No he didn’t. Ron turned back of his own will. Because Ron loved Harry and was willing to endanger not only his life, but also the one of the woman he loved, to save Harry from a fiery death trap. Ron chose to go back because he knew Harry was gonna try to save everyone like the idiot martyr he is.

he only wanted Ron to come to the Ministry because he didn’t want to put his friends in danger.

You greatly overestimate Harry’s niceness.

Harry’s eyes met Ron’s. He knew that Ron was thinking exactly what he was: If he could have chosen any members of the D.A. in ad-dition to himself, Ron, and Hermione to join him in the attempt to rescue Sirius, he would not have picked Ginny, Neville, or Luna. - Order of the Phoenix

He’s not thinking that because he’s nice and ~doesn’t want to put them in danger uwu~: he’s thinking that because he thinks Ginny, Neville and Luna aren’t good enough to rescue Sirius. To be fair, that’s also quite pragmatic: Neville has indeed great trouble with magic due to his father’s wand, and Luna has never participated in an adventure to fight Voldemort, while Ginny’s participation was that of his victim.

Why do you think Harry and hermione are selfish and don’t deserve him? That ain’t true

Because yes, that’s true. They’re fundamentally self-absorbed. Part of it is teenage immaturity, of course, and Ron can be similarly self-centred, but Harry is often going around thinking “me me me”. Like, when Arthur Weasley got bitten by Nagini he was thinking about how he was going to look crazy if he said he dreamed he was the snake, what the fuck Harry.

Similarly, Hermione often prioritizes herself and her feelings above Ron’s. She treats Harry very delicately because poor wee Harry is a poor orphan and that’s so sad but she has no such qualms with Ron since she doesn’t realize that his baggage amounts to a little more than just “I feel overshadowed by everyone that came before me”: it’s legit “I feel that nobody will ever love me because who’d care for a loser like me when there are all those great people around me?”. To be fair Hermione is not a psychologist, and she’s not under obligation to help Ron cope with his feelings, but when you’re friends with someone you usually try to support them a bit.

Look at how Harry and Hermione reacted to the bullying campaign against Ron in OOTP. Not. One. Fucking. Thing. Ron left to trudge alone in the snow for maybe hours after his first match, and they didn’t fucking try to find him, they stayed holed up in the common room, just staring at each other and feeling sorry for themselves. I don’t know if it’s a Brit thing to leave a friend alone with their own dark thoughts for company after a terrible public humiliation but it’s certainly not a good friend thing.

Yeah because bullshit plot device magic blah blah blah, really it ain’t shit. It’s mostly an excuse. Because how offensive it is to imagine that had Harry just gone to Voldemort a bit earlier, then the “““Love Charm”““ would save everyone? Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Colin, had Harry moved his fucking ass and just surrendered he’d have saved them all. Hell, when you already consider that the Battle of Hogwarts happened at Hogwarts because fucking Harry absolutely HAD to be the one to get one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes you see, couldn’t have summoned Kreacher and asked him to search the place, couldn’t have remained hidden and entrusted the other students with the search, nooo, absolutely HAD to go to Hogwarts aka the place where every child is held hostage by a fascist government that could decide to kill them all for “hiding Undesirable Number One in their midst so they deserved their fate”... Genius move Harry, truly. +50 people dead thanks to you, fucking dumbass.

he tries to save Voldy,

Um, not really, he just told Vold to try and feel some remorse. Then bullshit space magic about the Elder Wand so Harry is technically not a murderer because he just Disarmed his opponent, you see, he’s still pure yall, cause killing someone quickly and painlessly (= Avada Kedavra) is worse than torture (= Crucio), ysee?

Harry felt bad for Hagrid when Aragon died and wanted to be there for Hagrid, despite Aragon nearly eating him. Ron did not.

............................... um, no.

“Hagrid!” cried Hermione, leaping up, hurrying around the table the long way to avoid the barrel of maggots, and putting an arm around his shaking shoulders. “What is it?” “It’s...him...” gulped Hagrid, his beetle-black eyes streaming as he mopped his face with his apron. “It’s...Aragog...I think he’s dyin’...He got ill over the summer an’ he’s not gettin’ better... I don’ know what I’ll do if he...if he...We’ve bin tergether so long...” Hermione patted Hagrid’s shoulder, looking at a complete loss for anything to say. Harry knew how she felt. He had known Hagrid to present a vicious baby dragon with a teddy bear, seen him croon over giant scorpions with suckers and stingers, attempt to reason with his brutal giant of a half-brother, but this was perhaps the most incomprehensible of all his monster fancies: the gigantic talking spider, Aragog, who dwelled deep in the Forbidden Forest and which he and Ron had only narrowly escaped four years previously. “Is there — is there anything we can do?” Hermione asked, ignoring Ron’s frantic grimaces and head-shakings. “I don’ think there is, Hermione,” choked Hagrid, attempting to stem the flood of his tears. “See, the rest o’ the tribe...Aragog’s family...they’re gettin’ a bit funny now he’s ill...bit restive...” “Yeah, I think we saw a bit of that side of them,” said Ron in an undertone. “...I don’ reckon it’d be safe fer anyone but me ter go near the colony at the mo’,” Hagrid finished, blowing his nose hard on his apron and looking up. “But thanks fer offerin’, Hermione...It means a lot.” After that, the atmosphere lightened considerably, for although neither Harry nor Ron had shown any inclination to go and feed giant grubs to a murderous, gargantuan spider, Hagrid seemed to take it for granted that they would have liked to have done and became his usual self once more. - Half-Blood Prince

Then

“Excellent,” he said. “Really excellent. Right...I’m going down to Hagrid’s.” “What?” said Ron and Hermione together, looking aghast. “No, Harry — you’ve got to go and see Slughorn, remember?” said Hermione. “No,” said Harry confidently. “I’m going to Hagrid’s, I’ve got a good feeling about going to Hagrid’s.” “You’ve got a good feeling about burying a giant spider?” asked Ron, looking stunned. “Yeah,” said Harry, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag. “I feel like it’s the place to be tonight, you know what I mean?” “No,” said Ron and Hermione together, both looking positively alarmed now. “This is Felix Felicis, I suppose?” said Hermione anxiously, holding up the bottle to the light. “You haven’t got another little bottle full of — I don’t know —” “Essence of Insanity?” suggested Ron, as Harry swung his cloak over his shoulders. Harry laughed, and Ron and Hermione looked even more alarmed. “Trust me,” he said. “I know what I’m doing...or at least” he strolled confidently to the door — “Felix does.” - Half-Blood Prince

Harry doesn’t want to go to Hagrid’s out of the goodness and lurve of his heart. He’s going because it’s convenient. Because Felix Felicis.

Harry really isn’t anything special. Anyone with basic math skills can realize that dying to save possibly hundreds of people is better than you living and possibly hundreds dying. That’s nothing to do with purity of the heart or shit, that’s just math.

#harry potter #harry potter series #vivi answers #ask #harry potter critical

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nerdpiggy · 4 years

Note

Tell us about your ocs!! I'm genuinely curios bc of the tags

[ID: Meme of Hatsune Miku smiling. Top text reads "Thanks for sending me a message". Bottom text reads "You're very cute and I will be replying to you".]

Robin "Robbie" Fuller: The character i play in a DND campaign.

they/them pronouns. they're nonbinary and asexual and don't care to label their romantic attraction.

They're 22 years old and 5'9" (175cm)

Their birthday is November 12th. they're a scorpio

They started off as a Mundane MOTW character and they're now a level 7 warlock in DND. They're a human

They live in a small coastal town in massachusetts called Holyoak and they go to the local college to learn culinary. They live in a single dorm and they have a cute widdle black cat named Chickadee

One day (for various reasons) their life was flip-turned upside down with discovering the existence of monsters, portals, different dimensions, and rifts in spacetime

One of the reasons for them discovering all of this was them meeting a man named Thomas who's a human from a different dimension called the Palisades. He's a well-known Judge over there. (Thomas is @bevtastic 's character)

Robbie gets an offer to join the Interdimensional Defence Agency (IDA), says fuck it and accepts, and Robbie and Thomas stay friends by virtue of their similar jobs.

Robbie is tasked to go to a different dimension (A half-medieval half-wild west desert town called Argyle) to stop a threat that was growing there. Threat turned out to be a massive mind-controlling dragon who wanted revenge for the rest of her dragon species that were killed off by medieval "heroes". Robbie was not cut out for this as their first job. They (with help) subdue the dragon eventually but not before she burned down multiple towns including Argyle to a crisp. Robbie feels very bad about this.

Robbie, Thomas, and the rest of the party receive a mysterious letter leading them to an old abandoned mansion in Holyoak and get roped into a rescue mission to save Thomas's old friend Percy who has apparently been bodysnatched by a bad guy and trapped somewhere for what felt like thousands of years. This is the arc where we switched from Monster of the Week to DND, and Robbie gets connected to a nature deity Adelaide through a purple necklace. They also get a familiar, who is an owl with pitch-black feathers and glowing yellow pupilless eyes that Robbie named Mr. Muffins.

Robbie and Thomas become very good friends :)

Thomas dies.

Robbie goes to the Palisades to find out what happened to him. Turns out he wanted to reveal the secret of interdimensional travel to the public and work to make it open, free, and safe. The people in charge did not allow him to do this by legal means so he aimed to do it illegally, which was when he was murdered by a group of bandits.

On top of that, one of the main reasons why he wanted to reveal the different dimensions is because there is a HUGE interdimensional threat coming our way, and we need to act on it if we want to live.

Percy finds Robbie and asks them to help with this threat, who apparently is a singular person named Siris that has been locked in a prison for thousands of years and somehow got out. Robbie doesn't have much of a choice and accepts.

In the Palisades, there are monsters called Behemoths. they emerge from people who get bitten by a behemoth or who touch the black tar-like substance that runs like rivers in certain areas of the Palisades. During a battle, Robbie gets bitten by a Behemoth, and now they're a candidate for Behemism (aka turning into big giant monster syndrome).

Because Robbie has Behemism and Siris is part of the reason for Behemism existing, they're mind roommates now. Robbie and Siris do not get along very well.

There's more to Robbie but this is their main backstory!!!

[ID: a drawing of Robbie holding a chrysanthemum. They have short pink curly hair, and they're wearing a yellow floral button-up and a purple necklace. They have bandages on their freckled face and they're looking down at the chrysanthemum with a neutral expression.]

Emile Azarel: A character i play in a different campaign that does MOTW.

He/him pronouns, he's trans, demisexual, and demiromantic.

He's 19 and he's 5'3

He doesn't know his actual birthday but the day he celebrates is January 23rd

His MOTW class is The Expert. He's a fire genasi

He was born in central Russia but he doesn't know his parents well because when he was ~8 months old there was a big monster attack that unfortunately killed his parents. A monster hunter named Avery Azarel found Emile, took him in and raised him.

Emile learned to hunt monsters with Avery and the two traveled around together as monster hunters.

Eventually Emile wished to have a solid place to live rather than constantly traveling, because he wanted friends. He found a town in the pacific northwest called Salmon Peak that had everything he wanted: Russian culture, a fairly small easy-to-get-around layout, and some very weird mysteries going on. (Just because Emile wanted to settle didnt mean he wanted to stop monster hunting!)

He moved to Salmon Peak and has met a bunch of new friends! He's also learning more and more about the town, which is turning out to be somehow even weirder than he expected.

Emile is a very sweet, polite boy, but considering the fact that he's only ever been around one person mainly for his entire life, he has a bit of a ways to go when it comes to interacting with people. The monster hunting life means that when there's a monster, you kill it and that usually solves all your problems. Emile has transferred this logic to people as well (if they're a monster, kill em!) and he's learning through friend influence that maybe human lives are a bit more sacred than that.

His favorite color is blue because he loves the sky!

A lot of people underestimate his skills because he's little and looks very young, but he is a very good monster hunter. Because of Avery (the best monster hunter in the biz), his last name has a bit of a reputation.

Emile is blind, autistic, and has vitiligo!

I have much more planned for Emile but I can't say it here because it is MAJOR spoilers!

[ID: a drawing of Emile walking forward. He is wearing a blue shirt with stars on it, blue jeans, a fluffy white jacket, a belt with a star on it, star earrings, a moon necklace, and black shoes. His blue hair is swaying behind him and he's holding a white cane with a red tip. He's smiling slightly.]

Avery Azarel: Emile's parent! I've not played them as a character yet but I've made a character sheet for them.

they/them pronouns. They're agender, aromantic, and pansexual

their age is (???) and their height is 5'7

they have a birthday but nobody knows when it is

Their MOTW class is The Chosen. they appear human

They're widely considered the best monster hunter in the biz. Their name is well-known and they're requested for help all around the world

Because of this, they're constantly traveling and having a house would not make sense. They just pack their things, stay at motels/hotels/etc., camp in the woods and move around to wherever people need them.

Since they've been pretty much everywhere, they always seem to know at least one person from each town. They never seem to get too close to anyone, though

They are fluent in many different languages!

In the past they were paired up with another monster hunter and they made a great duo. That was a couple decades ago; they go solo now.

Years ago, an unexpected and incredibly destructive monster rampaged a small town in Central Russia. Avery came as fast as they could (they were nearby in the area) but they still couldn't finish off the beast before it tore the whole town to shreds. Dozens of homes were crushed, but surprisingly most people survived, with the exception of a couple of people who died under the rubble. Avery felt awful (this was their biggest failure in a while), and as they were searching through the rubble for any more casualties they found little baby Emile, miraculously unscathed. They took him in and raised him from then on.

Nobody, not even Emile, knows very many details about Avery's childhood, their family, their age, or really any information about them. (Emile has been trying to figure out Avery's birthday for AGES so they can celebrate, but Avery has refused to budge)

Their main weapon is 2 pairs of bolas! those are those chains with 2 balls on either end, usually made to be thrown at people's legs to restrain and trip them. they use the bolas both as restraining tools and as their main weapon, because i think weapons where you spin them really fast in front of you are cool

There's a scar over their left eye; whenever someone asks how they got it they always spin a different elaborate tale of an epic monster battle. Nobody knows which (if any) is the true story

there is a WHOLE LOT that I am leaving out if you couldn't tell. There's a huge chunk of their past that I'm leaving out because it's all a big bundle of spoilers. Someday I will be able to elaborate more on Avery!

[ID: a picrew made by djarn of Avery. They're smiling, their head is tilted slightly, and there's a scar over their left eye. Their hair is tied half-up half-down. They're wearing a black shirt with "òwó" on it and a blue jacket with an aromantic flag pin and a pansexual flag pin. the background is an agender flag.]

These are my main OC's! I have more (Orion, Nottwyrm, "Noodlearms", etc.) but these 3 are the main ones that I post about. :3 thank u for asking!!!

If you have any questions about any of my characters I always welcome asks!!! 💖

#oc robbie fuller #oc emile azarel #oc avery azarel #pinned post #i have never used a read more before and idk if i did it right #GOD i hope it works #if it doesn't im so sorry #thank u so much for asking !!!

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devilbat · 5 years

Text

The Mummy

Warning: violence, guns, implied smut. Getting handsy.

James Conrad x reader. (This is My first James one shot)

A/n: another one to add to my classic Movie monster AUs Tom Hiddleston character.

Happy Halloween 🎃

This was your first real big break as a archaeologist. You had always been at the desk in the museum working on and restoring old artifacts. When you heard that your predecessor was ill and couldn't not make the Journey to Egypt. You jumped at the chance. Begging him to let you. At first he didn't want you to go. Being you were a woman and a lot could happen during this time and age. With a lot of convincing and arguments, you were on your way with his long time buddy James Conrad a former British army SAS Captain. Now freelance bodyguard as you put it. He was not what you were expecting. When you met him. You were bubbly and looking for Adventure. He was bruty, always on Guard and seemed to be annoyed all the time. Well at least around you.

Handsomely overly attractive how could one man be that rugged, ruff around the edges and still be so damn hot. His jawline line was sharp with a bit of stubble. Oi and let's not forget his deep velvet smooth English accent, could make your panties drop with just one word. He was getting on your nerves. You could never stray to far from him. The first night in Egypt, you just wanted explore the rich culture, the food. James had other plans for you. As you were set to stay in the hotel room until dawn. When you would embark the long travel by camel to the valley of the kings.

To say you were hot was understatement. The camel that was unpleasantly jilting you around on, had this obsession to nip at you ever chance he got when you weren't paying attention to him. Let's not forget he had bit of a smell to him. If you had a hose and some soap he would, damn well get a bath. The long days turned in to short moments of coolness from the heat of the sun. You had decided to name the stupid animal after one of your ex's just because he was acting as an ass. When your group stop to rest. You complained about you ass hurting and in need of a shower. Mostly you were talking with Carl your camel. But you saw the roll of Conrad eyes directed at you. Making you huff, you were sure he just saw you as some rich city girl that knew nothing of a hard life.

James couldn't help be a bit annoyed when his friend asked to take a team of archaeologists to search some dusty old tomb. Sure his friend paid him well. What was one more favor. Even if James save that mans life more then once while they served together. He was no babysitter and the girl, the girl was a bit of an inconvenience. Knowing she was going to somehow get her cute ass in some kind of trouble. Right now all he really wanted to do is go back to some hole in the wall bar and drink himself to death, perhaps.

"Owe, You know Carl we've had this moment there where you didn't nip at me and now you've gone and done it." You hissed softly Swatting at the camel pushing his head away from you butt.

"Why did you name the Camel Carl?" James question, never looking over from what he was doing as he pulled the canteen from the rucksack on the camels back.

"Why are you ease dropping?" You huffed glaring over at the back of the mans head, eyes wondering over his back as ever muscle flexed when he moved about taking a long drink of water. You licked you lips at the sit. His Adam's apple bobbing along as he drank. Sweat trickling down his neck. If your mouth wasn't dry before it was dry now. No amount of water quench that thirst. The thought of running you tongue along his neck. Tasting that saltiness of his skin. You mind started to wonder about the Captain. "Owe! Carl that was more then enough ass the last time" You shrieked. The camel In question bit a little hard this time taking a bigger bite. Carl made a grunting and what sounded like a laughing noise. Making James choke on water as he tried not to laugh. "Hey! Don't side with Carl."

"I think he likes you." James smiled a bit more. You huffed in announce mumbling 'men' under your breath, and walked away. Carl followed closely behind nudging at you backside. "Knock it off." You hissed pushing the camels head away from you. James chuckled more audibly after his small bit of coughing mostly trying to cover his laughter. But he couldn't help it the camel had a thing for you. It was quite cute. Seeing Conrad smile finally after only seeing him with a bruting expression, was kind of nice. He was just as handsome if not more with a smirk on his face. Sure you wouldn't mind kissing it off of him. No wait you wanted to punch it off of him. Cause he was an ass like Carl, who was not taking no for an answer.

The valley of Kings, was without a doubt the most breath taking view so far. After about a month of excavating and exploring. Strange things started happening. You swear you heard your name being called late at night, after everyone was asleep. Thinking it was James messing with you. Calling him an ass later that morning, as you walked passed him. You were digging in an empty room, one of many. You needed some distance between you and the captain. You couldn't focus around the man. So when he wasn't looking you snuck off. With one other, one of the many sent to help you excavate. Everything was going well, until the sand floor of the tomb started to move. Like sand in an hour glass. It took you down with it.

"Help." You called up from where you had landed. You could hear your name from above you. So that meant you weren’t to far down. "Down here." The dark room made it impossible for your to see what was around you. Knowing if you stayed put Jame even though he would be not to please with you. Would more then find you. It was what he did. Even if the itch to feel your way about the area was driving you to scratch.

"Y/n?" You heard your name. It sounded like it was coming from beside you.

"James, I'm down here." You yelled, Not sure if you should move. This eerie feeling crowded up you spine. It almost felt like someone was next to you. You heard your name again. Knowing you had a lighter in your pocked, digging in to retrieve it. Striking the lighter with your thumb, the flame flickered. Helping you see a bit. As you turned around slowly.

A blood curdling scream ripped through your throat. When your eyes landed on the man in front of you. Ratty old dusty bandages wrapped around its entire form. This man looked to have been dried up like he had been in the sun for months on end. His lifeless empty eyes stared at you. A moaning like a zombie, erupted from its throat. It wasn't a man it had to of been one of the mummies you were in Search for. The lifeless corpse jerking as it moved towards you. Another scream was pulled from you as you attempt to move away. Only to fall flat on your bitten bruised ass, damn Carl. Hitting your head on something hard, the last thing you heard was James from above calling for you. Telling you to "stay put." Tell that to the thing pulling at your leg. That was not going to be an option.

Hands that's what you were feeling. Strong boney fingers roaming around expose heated skin. Though your don't remember at any point taking you clothes off for the night. You moaned out James name. His hands were ruff most likely from working with them. Holding a gun with those hands and now they were on you. James strong voice calling your name, making you squirm. You eyes fluttered open, the room was large and brightly lit by glowing flames along the walls. Were you back in the city? Oh but those hands still roaming. Your movement was minimal like there were wall around you. Your were in a sarcophagus. Panic set in as your eyes moved to see those hands that were on you. You shrieked as you grabbed the mummy like hands that moved without a body.

Sitting up you could see the room clearly now. You head felt heavy like something was on top of it. Your hand moved feeling the large head pice. Pulling it off to get a better look. It was incrusted with jewels and a beetle in the center of it. It was beautiful. Looking down you saw that your breasts were cover not by much. But were covered with some kind of bird that laid between your breasts as the wing covered you nipples. It too was covered in jewels. The same went with your lower half. But only shear fabric covered front and back of your legs leaving the side exposed.

This had to be a dream still. Mummies could not come back to life. Nor could they kidnap a girl and dresser her in practically nothing, like some Egyptian goddess. Where was James? Hell where was Carl your loyal ass of a camel. And where the hell did those hands go. Pulling yourself out once you figured it was safe. Standing on unsteady legs, you lurched forward almost falling. Slowly walking around. The sand was cool on the bottom of your bare feet. A shiver ran down your spine.

It felt like something was behind you. And there was, the mummy stood there arms without hand reached out for you as you lurched forward. The dried bones clothed hand grabbed at your ankles cause you to fall on you back and the mummy attack you. Screaming as you tried pulling away. Hands finally meeting arms, as you struggled to get what shouldn't have weighed that much, off you. You name being called from the mummy. Pushing it off of you scrabbles to your feet, it did too. The corpse backing you into a corner. You closed your eyes tears fell free, you called for help. A loud bang followed by another, then another. You opened your eyes to see James in the clearing of the wall. Armed with his pistol, amid at the mummy. It longed at James. But this time James amid for the head. And it seemed the mummy stayed down.

"Y/n, are you all right?" He asked, before he could get a chance to look you over for any injuries, you wrapped yourself around his midsection shanking. Tears soaking his light blue almost grey shirt. "Hey, shhh, it's all right. I'm here, I'm here." He rubbed your exposed back. Finding a tapestry on the wall, he wrapped it around you holding you closer to him. The sun had long set as he guided you out of the pyramid, taking you back to your tent.

"Y/n, I'm going to take a look to see if you’re injured now, ok?" James voice was above a whisper. Setting you on the cot like bed. He pulled the tapestry off your shoulders. He had someone fetch him a first aid kit. His eyes roamed over your form. To say you were absolutely stunning was an understatement. He didn't realize what a Beaty you truly were until he though you were lost or worse. The kid with the first aid kit pulled James out of this thoughts. Clearing his dry throat as pulled the kit open. You winced a bit when he gently dabbed at a scratch. "Sorry."

"Thank you." You mumbled, looking at him as he gently whipped each cut. Each time made you whimper.

"I wasn't going to leave you down there. And that, that.." James trailed off.

"The Mummy." You hissed out as James hit a deep bruise. "I think it's safe to say everywhere hurts. Besides my forehead." You announced when he tried to press on a bandage. Not noticed his sly smile, he kissed your forehead. His warm lips lingering a bit before pulling away. "My cheek as well." James lips moved to your cheek. Lips pressed firmly against it. His stubble scratch just a bit at smooth flesh.

"Anywhere else?" James mumbled against you cheek before he moved away. You hands pressed against you lips.

"And maybe my lips?" You question, before moving your fingers. As soon as your fingers left your lips. His lips were on yours before you could breath out. Finding yourself kissing back. Your own hands gripping the nap of his neck and tangled into short hair. You felt your back on the cot and James chest pressed against yours. His strong warm hands glide easily over your skin. Cupping the underside of your breasts that were exposed. You moaned out His name. His lips left your swollen lips, tracing along your jawline before moving to you neck. His other hand rounded over your backside, large hand grabbing, groped at you. Pulling at your thigh lifting up over, giving him better access.

You gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you. Both of you jumped when you heard a grunt followed by a roar. Both of you looked over at the opening of the tent. Carl head poked through the now opening. Grunting out, his foot stomped and dragged, clearly not happy. James huffed but turned back to you, his lips back on to yours. Trying to ignore the beast. Carl didn’t like this and pulled his body in more grunting his displeasure.

“I don’t think he likes you.” You mumbled against his lips. James groaned in annoyance. Knowing that camel would not stop. James pulled away from you. Which made you whimper. “Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone at least not tonight.” James smiled and did as he was commanded. Though he did give you his shirt so you wouldn’t be that distracting. It really didn’t help either.

Everything in the camp was packed up. After what happened to you. The locals said this was cursed grounds and would not continue. Leaving you no choice to pack up and leave. Which hurt you to have to leave knowing there was so much that was yet to be discovered. Even with the items that your wore and the tapestry James used to cover you amongst other things. Walking towards James, Carl trailing behind. He smiled at you, still wearing the shirt he given you last night.

“You know, I have to say Carl is a real hero. He really did save my life.” You teased, making James raise his eyebrow at you.

“What about me?” James pouted a bit. Hands pulling you against him.

“Well I guess you helped too. You were like the side kick. Carl and Captain James Conrad. I mean you did do all the heavy lifting.” You smirked wrapping you arms around him.

“Really?” He smirked pulling you in to a passionate heated kiss. His other arm wrapped around your waist holding you close. Carl hissed and grunted in annoyance. Not getting his way, he moved forward nipping James right in the ass. Making the man yelp. You giggled as James rubbed at his ass. Which you may have placed your there instead.

“I think he likes you.” Kissing his cheek. Before pulling away.

“Oh I can’t wait until he is returned to his owner.” James hissed.

“I don’t know I think I might keep him.” You teased.

#james conrad #the mummy au #tom hiddleston #classic movie monsters #tom hiddelston imagine

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itissadbutitsmy-life · 4 years

Text

the funniest jokes in bfdi

flower’s announcer crusher that she just. has, and everyone else just uses it too

trying to put out a fire by holding ice cube’s recovery center over the fire so she just falls into it endlessly

every single one of yellow face’s products, including but not limited to

fork attractant, for when you need a fork but don’t have the cutlery on hand

headphones you cannot change the volume on or remove

money slips, you just write an amount on them, and it counts as legal tender

“thats a pentagon!” “yeah! like if you took my name and added ‘Tagon’!“

in like episode 2 when they all run away from something and a second later flower casually power-walks away from it instead of running

when balloony deflated and a while later cloudy flies over and goes “i cannot believe it! this is a dead body!!”

“he’s not dead, he just needs a little help thats all! (starts reinflating him too fast) but i agree, he is a hindrance when he is deflate- ohh noooo”

hollow jawbreakers that sound can come into but can’t go out of

when they stuck loser in a jawbreaker they inverted it, so they can hear him talk to himself but he cant hear anything around him

no one seems to know that thats why they can hear him

one time they all ended up in space. because of budget cuts.

actually every time budget cuts lead to something that seems way cooler than their previous stuff, like sparkly purple lasers instead of a mechanical arm to eliminate people with

the consistently bad cake at stake prizes. one time it was just a block of ice cut into six pieces. one time it was dirty shovels.

the magical die of judgement

when freesmart drove across the ocean in their van and they managed it by holding their breath and each time one of them died they just recovered them and threw their corpse out the back

golf ball messing up naming her team by saying things like “we need to be another name” and ending up on teams called Another Name and A Better Name Than That

one team was formed entirely around learning to not kill people. pillow overhears them say “youre against killing?” and goes “:D did someone say killing??”

tennis ball admonishing rocky for not knowing how to write: “no arms is no excuse”

they had to find a needle in a haystack and needle just turned herself in, successfully

when they started using a board with the points written on it on flaps of paper instead of a computer screen, but due to budget cuts, it could only display two digits per contestant, so anyone who went over 100 started immediately dropping to the bottom of the rankings

when ice cube was sleeping at the cake of stake podiums and got shot up into the air at like 3000 mph

2763

when the eliminated contestants tried to escape the loser chamber and they just rolled it off into the ocean

theyre saved because the sun rises and picks them up out of the ocean

also apparently the chamber opens for like five minutes a day for sunlight, but instead of just climbing out during that time, which they seem to be capable of doing, they do a much more convoluted thing

they were sick of four so they got rid of him by multiplying him with donut, and it worked

ruby has some really weirdly specific ideas of beauty and coaches flower

the line delivery of “killing a bubble is as easy as one, two, th(pop)” “i just learned two things about bubble: she can be su i c i d a l and she’s S O D U M B she CANT even count to T H R E E!”

a few episodes later bubble angrily shows them she CAN count to three if she lives long enough to do so, and pencil and match are both like :O :O

bubbles first line in season four is her rapidly counting to ten before getting popped

the way each team breaks their jawbreakers

8 ball just goes “MNYAH” and bites it in half

"okay black hole, do the thing”

leafy tries to use woody’s tongue to lick it open even though rocky and balloony were doing just fine using acid

iance just going ‘bwehbwehbweh’ all licking the same one

team ice cube was doing a mix of bwebwhbehbbwehbw and loudly drilling it open with naily

when four loved so hard he shot eraser off over the horizon

when they’re discussing team names in season one and theyre all talking over each other so you cant hear what theyre saying, except match, who grabs a megaphone and screams “SMOKY HOT FIERY BUNS”

when needle made a cake and put so much yeast in it that it breached earth’s atmosphere and astronomers apparently began classing earth as part of a three planet system (”consisting of the earth, the moon, and something called ‘needles cake’”)

“it’s ice cube! and she’s shrinking?” “she’s falling”

saying “(x character)! wake up!!” when it’s unclear (to the audience) why a character looks silly or apparently isnt responding

blocky’s sleeping pose is him with his eyes wide open, sporting a big goofy grin and hugging his legs

david’s sleeping pose is him with X eyes

one time the contest was to fill a tank with water from crying, and golf ball immediately ordered tennis ball to cry. he couldn’t do it on command, so golf ball tried, and cried her first ever tear, just... her first one

when the prize was fortune cookies, the fortunes were bracelety’s notes about how much she loves ice cube

“four, where’d you get these fortunes again?” “dumpster!”

“lightning always forgets to fly, so he had to be the fake”

when they were flying paper planes and stapy accidentally stapled his teammates into theirs, and he just hovered next to it while he was talking to them before they all started to plummet

the entire scene where liy tries to use ice cube to force teardrop to talk

“i’ll hold teardrops jaw open and you wiggle her vocal chords”

“i hate you” “yeah i hate her too!” “no. i hate you.”

“ice cube will only stop when she WANTS to stop!” “i want to stop”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULD HELP ME! YOU SAID YOU WERE COOL!” “so r r y (starts wiggling)”

“ICE CUBE! I AM APPALLED!!!!!”

ice cube gets bitten and starts screaming while bracelety is yelling “YEAH ICE CUBE! I CANT HEAR YOU, LOUDER!!”

apparently everyone who hates golf ball gets physically sick when they get near her (or at least, ruby does and snowball did once he knew she was there)

blocky got eaten by a monster in episode two but it turned out the monster missed him by a bit so he was fine

taco’s teammates thought she was dead forever and wrote eulogies for her, and once they found out she was alive lollipop threw hers away, but saw kept hers because in her eyes they’re still valid!!

when things started to get dramatic in the s1 finale, and leafy called announcer on the phone and he was in a ball pit

loser’s trapped in a jawbreaker and the only thing with him is donut’s diary. the next time you see him he’s reading it furiously and it’s filled with color-coded sticky notes

pillow decided if you wave your arms it means all your “care spirit” is getting sucked out your arms and sent into space (”a true indicator that person doesn’t give a fluff”)

remote got hacked and her FIRST INSTINCT is to send the hackers a bomb

“if theres an announcer recovery center now, that means we can kill the announcer as much as we want and he’ll still come back to give us dream island!”

they ask black hole to push them in their swing and he says he can’t push, but he can pull like there’s no tomorrow

“no i can literally warp space time so that there will be no tomorrow” “yeah,h don’t do that.”

when they have a tiebreaker announcer pulls out a silk tie and goes “first team to break this tie wins”

the second time, almost before he finished speaking, snowball just reached over and ripped it in half effortlessly

“proves you don’t need frills to make a feast for the eyes!” “more like taco doesn’t need to be dead to be deceased in my eyes!!!”

they had a race where everyone on each team had their legs tied together (like a three-legged race, but with like six people on a team)

pen’s team was doing fine but he wasn’t, so they just dragged him along behind

snowball tied his team into a ball and dragged them himself, to predictable results, and wouldn’t stop until he got to the finish line even though it took him until after the sun went down

he failed, actually, and him and his team plummeted down a ravine when he passed out

“the opposite of dream island! night...nightmare moon!!”

donut stuck his arms through a one way camera to the moon (it transmits matter as well as light), and to fix the fact that his arms were on the moon and his body was on earth, he pushed the entire earth through the camera

the moon is smushed up against the earth now. it has not been resolved yet

“gelatin and firey tied their legs together and fell off” “ya, seems like the kind of thing they would do”

pencil got caught by a monster and couldnt get away, so they had to kill her so they could recover her somewhere else, and they let her pick how they did it, which lead to everyone just sawing her in half while she grinned ear to ear. she was singing too. iconic

but first, match, her best friend, started waggling a big butcher’s knife around at her going “hoohoo hoeheehee im killing pencil loookat me” and pencil said “match put your butterknife away, you have to ACTUALLY kill me”

and when they were sawing her in half bubble had the BIGGEST, most BLISSFUL grin, with her eyes half closed like a happy cat

bell asks for help making people stop climbing her string, and snowball assures her he can do it, but he’ll have to climb her string to get to them

then like twenty people followed him up

when writing utensil characters use themselves to write with

sometimes they have tiny versions of themselves (sans limbs), but sometimes they just like, pull their caps off and write with their heads

(the same scream noise they use every time a group of people screams) “HONESTLY! (grabs a new can of fork repellent from hammerspace) are you guys going to scream like that EVERY time i use up a can?”

dodecadangit

OH THANKS AN OCTADECILLION, MATCH

they were basically playing hot potato where if you look at someone who was glowing you’d catch the glow, and most teams ended up just chilling with their eyes closed, but golf ball yelled “EVERYONE GET ON MY ROCKET” and she and her team just left earth entirely

this did not stop them from catching the glow

someone’s like “the communicator dish still works” and book goes “oh,” dips a chip into the communicator dish and splashes dip everywhere, “THATS what this is?”

the, like, five minute long end-credits scene of ice cube falling off a cliff eternally

pencil tells ruby which button to press and she keeps getting it wrong, partly because NEW BUTTONS KEEP APPEARING

the poison antidote that has the side effect of making the recipient eat one other contestant

pencil coaching her teammates on how to jump higher

“MMR? I love measles, mumps, and rubella!”

“golf ball knows how to do, like, everything!” (cut to golf ball) “i don’t know how to do, like, anything”

basketball invited 8 ball to be on her team cuz they’re both balls, then 8 ball said “sure, and let’s adopt these three” in reference to three other ball characters

loser said when he was younger he used to play with a toy that was apparently only just invented an hour ago, and everyone, like 60 characters, immediately disowned him and started a turf war over the situation

“black hole, you’re strong! open this jar for me!”

(as the world is literally ending) “FLOWER! WHATAVE YOU DONE??” “i got this jar open!!!”

whenever a host dies or is otherwise put out of commission and the contestants just keep trucking along until they remember no one can get the prize if the host isn’t around to give it to them

that time announcer used like ten negatives in a sentence

the way announcer says “wow!” with more emotion than anything else he says? idk if it’s intentional, or even a joke, but it’s the best thing

(slow mo) “i want to cry now, i really do”

“and i cry acid”

ruby died of sadness and book made it big by selling her remains

when they say some line that’s just regular words in a slightly unique way, and then the line gets repeated throughout the series

announcer accidentally-on-purpose got everyone killed, except david (who’s immune to bugs), and he had a david cloner, so he just went ahead and replaced everyone with davids in costumes

halfway through cake at stake, the original contestants show up unexpectedly and explain that they “faked their deaths! obviously.”

“ive decided to not cancel bfdi!” “aw, seriously?”

the noises david and dora make when they do things, like clattering, or sprouting leaves

bubble and match pretending to be trees

“NO BUBBLE! TREES DONT SAY THAT!” “OH, RIGHT! FSSHHHHHH! FWWWSHH!!!!”

when nickel and coiny get close together bad things happen

“how’s the tree-climbing going?” “it’s okay, but it’d be easier if you helped. (swoop) okay, just got to the top”

“yes! I am the first one up the tree!” “that’s NOT true, I was here FIRST”

i guess we’ll just have to use this trebuchet tennis ball built before he died

“wha! yhad this the HWOLE TIME, I DIDN EVEN HAVE TO CLIMB THE TREE?” “physical exertion builds character :)”

when everyone’s begging four to bring back their dead teammates, especially saw, who lost her entire team, and four is like okay I’ll bring back one (1) person, and saw very reverently starts to ask him for her dead team leader, but grassy says “tennis ball!” and four listens to him instead, and everyone immediately starts nagging four again to bring back more important people

leafy, about to melt ice cube down for metal scrap: “ice cube, come on down! you can be my alloy!”

they met a new character and they’re like “who is that?” and pie’s like “I dunno, try squishing it”

“theres another one? whoa! it totally has a different texture from the first one!”

8 ball beginning every single statement with things like “although I don’t have a favorite number...”

“I do this!” (grabs pin and turns her, screaming, into a squiggly pile of lines) “pretty cool, dontcha think?”

“can,,,, you bring her back?” “no” (five seconds later) “HEY CHECK THIS OUT! (brings back pin)”

pen high fived black hole and his arm spaghettified

“what are you doing?” “im going to die!” “hi needle! he’s not going to die.”

iance was trying to dig their way up out of the ground but they couldnt because golf ball kept blocking them from the surface

“maybe theyre trying to communicate with me?” “yeah they’re telling you to stop”

“they raise a very convincing argument. BUT IT’S NOT ENOUGH!” “OH what a pain!!”

she accurately guessed the fact that there was a group of people underground running from some lava who “clearly value avoiding [golf ball] more than their own safety”

“ohhhh so THIS is golf balls idea of fun!” “(sigh)... yep”

they looked through a camera and couldn’t see donut (the zoom wasn’t adjusted) and marker went “donut’s a vampire too?”

too???

“meh, I’ve still got other evidence”

one time the eliminated contestants got to vote who to eliminate and snowball was like “ice cube, cuz it’s really hot in the TLC and I can’t be the only one cooling it off”

like four other people were like “oh man he’s right” and did the same thing

“wouldn’t it be cool if the last word of the last episode was the same as the first word of the first episode?” “yeah :)”

“take. a deep breath. you know. A DEEP FRIED BREATH”

at the end of the episode he shows up with some boiling oil and is like “LIKE THIS! ONE, (sizzling and screaming noises)” “COINY NO”

leafy was about to throw a knife at them but watched this happen offscreen with horror and then left them alone

david’s human, and that’s just weird

“im still mad you killed bubble” “youre one to talk, you were about to impale TWO WHOLE teams” “yeah, but bubble’s life? is special”

pen’s like “okay we three need to stick together while we’re picking teams!” but then eraser hears some other team has free food, so he runs off and pen very flatly goes “okay, we lost eraser.”

“well let’s not pick pen, he’s still two hundred bigintillion dollars in debt” which is mostly hilarious without the first three seasons of context, but even with context it’s hilarious. he looks so shamefaced when they say it too. i love pen

once someone finally picks him he IMMEDIATELY perks up and takes charge

the hphprcc went into self destruct mode and everyone started frantically trying to figure out what to do, and book’s like “okay it’ll either just disappear without a trace, or blow up and kill us all, 50/50 chance” and then of course, it exploded, and ruby started screaming, and then book was like “ruby, stop hallucinating! see? it just disappeared, without a trace!”

“YOuuOURE HalLUCINAATING!!” “DON’T do that!! it is K-R-E-P!”

pin tried to knock everyone off the eiffel tower by shaking it and book was like “who does she think she’s kidding? it’s the eiffel tower we won’t fall off”

“name ONE! name ONE friend you haven’t gotten extremely angry at!” “thats not fair,! there isnt even any of them!”

8ball was saying the opposite of everything golf ball was saying, up to and including calling the members of their team, a better name that that, “worse namers”

“is this because i killed you last episode?” “what?? no, i dont care about that!”

“life is CHEAP! get me a BANANA!!!”

flower bit off half of announcer’s head and he couldn’t make the K sound anymore

“have this -ashew” “bless you”

“no i said -ashew. -ashew. -ashew. -ashew.” “wow you must be allergic to something”

“maybe announcer’s allergic to this cashew? here bubble, you can have it!”

pencil won the staring contest because david’s allergic to sunrises

freesmart was making video diaries during the three year hiatus, but apparently did absolutely no editing or even rewatching of the videos, because they found out three years too late that ruby left the lens cap on every time she used the camera

when four played the cake at stake song in the classroom he played it on a low-quality portable tv instead of cutting to a fullscreen video

“iknowafasterway!” “NORUBYYOULLDIE!”

pin said she didnt want to halve the votes she got because she hadnt done anything that would make people want to vote for her, and it immediately cut to a series of old scenes of her throwing people under the metaphorical bus

literally nothing is funnier than “i mean, i havent done anything to make people vote for me” (cut to flashback) “there’s too much weight on this sinking ship!!! we need to throw someone OVERBOARD!!!!”

one team got stuck doing their nine-piece puzzle for a MONTH because all the pieces were the same dark brown color

the pieces were upside down

a month

“the finish line! it’s only twenty or so yards away!”

two people talking and using the word “needy” twice and pausing to throw their hands up protectively and go “HNnnnynGH”

“why do i have filling, but also a hole?” - donuts diary

in 5b theyre talking to some npcs and theyre like “well dont hurt us, because we just got finished being punished in lego brick’s dungeon” and the npcs were like “oh yeah he does that. he’s a great guy, but he does that.”

also in 5b when book met lego brick the FIRST thing she asked is if he’s “safe to look at” which,???

they did a trivia contest and multiple questions were in complete gibberish

presumably this is an actual language in canon since like three other people answered correctly, also in gibberish, but still

“you’ve got this, bubble, you’re great at mental contests” “question one: ooba grooba, grooba shmooba?” “HUH?”

“but tennis ball -- oh... tennis ball....--”

team naming, especially in season four

“we’re not ALL in the alliance!” “well, if you take ‘the all’ out of the alliance, you get...”

“and what is your name?” (everyone says their own actual names at once)

ice cube is not on team ice cube

Death Prevention And Creating Trust

“let’s be called The Losers!” “awww! you didn’t have to”

wheel ooze a hole bunch. WOAH bunch!

“but then it sounds like youre saying free-DUMB!” “and we are so like totally not dumb!”

when the losers decided to use iance’s idea to win the swing contest and it was styled like an overenthusiastic science video

“WHOA!!! iance just had a RADICAL idea!!!”

“TREASON! TREASON! TREASON!” “im in what?”

“seriously why are so many people drowning? it’s not even quicksand, or anything” - announcer, responding to five people drowning in a basket of bread

they were whispering with “susuusus” noises and cloudy whispered “zuzuzuzzuz”

the spaceship with the sign that says “this spaceship runs on big squishy contestants” or whatever and after the credits it slowly flips over to say “this spaceship runs on VOTERS”

“stop shooting at me!” “no way! i got these cannonballs on sale and IM GONNA GET MY MONEYS WORTH!!!”

eggy and cake’s argument over who has a deeper spiritual connection with loser

“my connection is so strong that when i crack, i bleed loser’s COLOR”

playing catch with a star they plucked out of the big dipper, and leafy’s horror over it

adding “ey” to people’s names (personal favorites are announcery, fourty-four, flowey, treey, and belly)

blueberries are EXPLOSIVE, including the ones inside pie, so sometimes she just explodes

“but over a year ago, four said you dont need frills to make a feast for the eyes, so that means hes okay with trash!”

the anti-advertisements advertisement!

four ate a whole team and they just sort of stood around inside him sticking their arms out his mouth and laughing hysterically

“again! again again again !!!!”

“we could be leaving!” “yeah, but when’s the last time you saw remote this happy? this is good for her!”

book, three episodes into season 3: hey, what is it we’re even battling for?

(iconic voice): dwream island,??

when they had a beauty contest and firey speaker box and flower speaker box just immediately chose firey and flower to be the winners without a second’s hesitation

“book! come help us catch a criminal!” “no thanks, im good!”

donut tried to punish people for getting the wrong answers when he was hosting, but it turns out a recording of four screeching doesn’t work... quite as well as the real deal

four zapping gelatin

ok ok ok this is insanely long but please add more if u have any favorites i missed

#honorable mention is 'pen island all caps no spaces'#its so stupid and i lose it every single time #and the reanimated 1a and 1b map when leafy icy and coiny were on their boat and inexplicably dressed as pirates #its the CUTEST Thing and i think about it a lot #bfdi #long post #o

41 notes · View notes

jupiterjunebug · 5 years

Note

WHERE'S THE WEREWOLF ESSAY, OP??

@malaloba @bisexualducknewton You also dared me to say this so you get a tag

Okay so fun facts about Tyler Keegan Casey (I literally just wanted to make a joke about Tyler Casey abbreviating to Tyler K.C):

His parents, Edgar Casey and Rebecca Wilson, got married at 18. Their reasoning was "hey, we've been together all of high school, we still like each other, and I think our kids would be really hot." A bit of the shine wore off for Rebecca, though, when it turned out Edgar inherited a controlling streak from his parents. He got it in his head that his growth as a person required moving as far away from tiny little Casper, WV as he could. Which was fine, and would've been true if he’d put any actual EFFORT into growing up, except he made that decision without consulting his wife. Family was the most important thing in the world for her, which meant she didn't want to leave. Unfortunately, family was the most important thing in the world to her, and Edgar was technically her family.As far away as possible turned out to be Fortville, Indiana. At around 3000 people, it was certainly bigger than Casper, but much smaller than Edgar's ambitions. Unfortunately, they'd run out of gas, and got stuck in town long enough for Rebecca to work up her courage and deliver an ultimatum: they were eight hours from Casper, close enough to drive over, and she'd live no further away than that.Tyler was born a few years later and grew up the only "daughter" of the household, pretty in a generic way and polite to a fault. His homesick mama taught him that he'd know when he found his people on account of the decision to give up everything for them would only hurt a little. His pyramid-scheme chasing daddy taught him that the key to success is for people to think you're one of their people, and who gives a shit if it's true or not?Up until he was twenty he was a full-on social chameleon: he wore the closest thing he could get to the "right" clothes, he did his hair in the "right" way, he laughed at the right jokes and had a crush on all the right boys. Third runner up for prom queen, dated at least three members in the football team (the breakups were never his fault, of course. He'd take a relationship as far as the other person wanted, he only dated them because they wanted to date him after all), popular but not so popular for people to consider him a threat.Every holiday, Tyler and his mama went off to Casper to visit her family. That meant he ended up at the kids table with his two younger cousins Franc ( @keplersheetz) and Vicki. Franc and Vicki were practically sisters, Franc lived with Vicki's parents whenever her ma was off dealing with her host of mental issues, which meant that Tyler was kind of the third wheel.

Tyler ended up the responsible one, and town gossip went on about how they hoped he'd be a good influence, because wasn't he just a perfect little child? Gossip about Franc went on about how she was wild, about how she didn't follow rules, if she wasn't careful she'd end up just like her mother and didn't Vicki's parents worry about if she was a bad influence? No one gossiped about Vicki at all.

It created a weird circle of jealousy, where Tyler envied Franc for having the guts to be herself, Franc worried that Vicki would end up liking Tyler better than her, and Vicki wished somebody might talk about her instead of other people’s “influence” on her. In general, Tyler and Franc didn't get along on account of they were very different and had no interests in common, but when you spend months each year as an obligatory playmate you end up developing at least a little fondness.Tyler went to Indiana University Bloomington, close enough to home for both his parents and also in possession of a Bachelors program for early childhood education. He quickly acquired a job at the library, a reputation as "a pleasure to have in class," an overcommitment to several clubs, and a thoroughly mediocre boyfriend. He also ended up in two classes with and as a coworker to Monet, ( @pleasekalemenow). In sophomore year, the two were roommates and in three classes together, which was haha a funny coincidence. Then in Spring term Tyler had a stress breakdown and Monet was so thrown by composed, fake-ass Tyler losing his shit over something completely minor that she ended up sitting with him for four hours and now they're best friends.In the summer before Junior year he was like "hey wait a fucking second, if I'm completely changing my personality around other people so that they'll like me...do they actually like me?" and decided that fuck it, I'm going to just have my own personality and work my hardest to make it so people find that person likable. The most obvious shift - aside from him breaking up with his mediocre boyfriend and quitting half of his clubs - was coming out as, you know, a dude.

His parents didn't really...get it? His mom continues to this day to treat it as something she supports but just can't understand, and his dad kind of took it as a personal attack because his dad is a self-obsessed jackass. The rest of the family didn't really express an opinion on any of this, on account of Vicki had a baby and Franc ran away from home just a little while later. Compared to having a daughter under 18 and just straight up disappearing, being trans wasn't all that embarrassing to them.Things went pretty decent for half of Junior year. Then one day while he was watching a kindergarten class, the last kid to be picked up at the end of the day turned into an eldritch horror and ate the other student teacher. The FBI’s Paranormal Research and Investigation division showed up and was like "hey I'm pretty sure you can guess that we're going to tell you to keep this hush hush, so keep this fucking hush hush." Tyler went "wow you know I don't like being kept in the dark about all this," so he changed his major to criminal justice and worked his ass off to graduate at the same time as everyone else. Then he joined the FBI, and when they were interviewing him he dropped some line about "oh, I saw something once and the, uh, I think it was PRI? Said that it was top secret dangerous business. I'd like to solve murders like that :)" and the PRI kind of went "well...I guess? we can hire? Him? He did a god job on all of his exams...we have no reason not to."At around this time he played the love interest in Monet's breakout limited access TV show, Once Upon a Cryptid. This show eventually gained Dr. Horrible levels of cult-classic fame, and Tyler is eternally thankful that T has at this point changed his look enough that no one really recognizes him beyond people he talks to on case being like "haha isn't it funny that you look kind of like actor Tyler Casey and you're an FBI agent just like his character?" And he just says "haha yeah I get that a lot :)"The PRI was also like "hey can you keep an eye on this person who is causing trouble with conspiracy theory shit?" Tyler says "uh yeah, sure? Anything I should know?" And the PRI is like "well it's your cousin, but other than that, nah, glhf :)"Tyler found this situation Vaguely Uncomfortable, so instead of being actually good at his job he took this opportunity to leave reminders to eat and warnings to keep her head down when she overreached. They were all signed with "The FBI Agent That's Watching You Right Now" and wow isn't it fucked up that they're closer as anonymous FBI stalker and conspiracy theorist than they were as proper childhood playmates? It fucks me up sometimes.Five years before the game starts, he goes on an investigation into what may or may not be a supernatural murderer. While in the area he runs into August Caraway ( @transagentstern), who is. Super his type. He immediately starts finding excuses to spend time w/ the hot, sensitive, painter, asking August to be his guide around the area. And also if he could see that painting that August is working on because it sounds really :) great :). Eventually he comes to the conclusion that the long periods of time between attacks and the COD indicate either a werewolf attack or a very patient predator. He goes "well, it's the new moon tonight...so if I take August out on a da-I MEAN INVESTIGATION into that clearing in the woods it'll be safe."Spoilers! It isn't!They get attacked by a werewolf. Tyler says "well, I'm an FBI agent so I should be the one to sacrifice myself" and tries to shoot the werewolf. It quickly takes him to the ground, but hey! At least August has time to run! Except instead of running, August goes up to try and save Tyler. Which ends in them both getting bitten before the silver bracelets August always wears fend the thing off. August manages to drag Tyler to civilization before losing consciousness, and the two wake up in separate hospitals. August is told Tyler got sent to a special FBI hospital, but is fine. Tyler is told August got tired of waiting around for him to wake up and left. (More fun facts: this happened the day before Pigeon's birthday! Wow! Terrible)Tyler is kept under observation for the rest of the month, just to make sure he's fine. He is, of course, not fine. The PRI is super stoked to have access to someone who is fully willing to spend the rest of his month j chillin' and then come in on the full moons, on account of most of the werewolves they have access to are ones they caught and have to keep hold of all the time. Which, like, unlawfully contained civilians are a shitty baseline.So, despite having research in their name, the PRI kinda fucking sucks at research. Their methodology is to just try shit until they figure out 1. How to kill the monster and 2. How to spot the affliction/how it progresses. They are perfectly aware of how to kill werewolves, so really all they do is stage observations under different stress conditions to play “how to spot a werewolf”.

Every experiment is just put them in a cage with moonlight access, see whether the transformation is faster/slower when the person has a certain diet/fitness level/etc. Most of the subjects can’t leave bc they’d run away and are also liable to transform sometimes which is inconvenient.

The PRI isn't especially concerned about Tyler, because they know one of the conditions for a transformation is high stress and if there's one thing he's good at it's completely repressing an anxiety attack, so he's able to pretty much do his job aside from the whole "locked up under the full moon" thing. Of course, he's ostracized by his coworkers on account of he's like. Literally a monster. But that's fine! He has Monet! Who he never tells anything about all this because he doesn't want to worry her, and also because her brother (coincidentally August, though Tyler doesn't know that) died around the time of his attack and he doesn't want her to blame herself for never trying to come see him.Good things that happen in these 5 years: he has an amicable relationship with Franc. He gets good at his job. He and Monet discover that the uncanny coincidences which led to them always having classes together carry over into their adult life, and they constantly run into each other while performing their respective jobs. She sometimes invites him to parties to stop men from hitting on her, and because he looks vaguely like Jake Gyllenhaal (that's Tyler's face claim) they get to laugh about all the tabloid rumors that Monet is dating Jake.The bad news is Tyler never had access to the other werewolves prior to the attack (it wasn't his division, and he wasn't usually in a position to take anything alive) which means he's never been around to see a new one, to watch the arc of their deterioration. Usually it goes like this: they wake up, alone and naked in a room with only a bed, a desk, and an uncomfortable wooden chair. They are given clothing by an FBI agent, sometimes that agent is sympathetic, sometimes sneering, but usually expressionless. Each full moon they transform, and remember nothing of it save pain, hunger, and the feeling of their claws digging into the metal walls. Fear is a trigger for transformation, as is anger. They are always afraid, always angry. Eventually, it becomes rare to see them in their human forms.The PRI is fucking stupid. A reasonable person might say "duh, werewolves turn when they're scared, maybe if we put them someplace less scary they'll stop turning so much." Instead, they write in their notes, the notes Tyler receives, "we're fairly certain that, at some point, the humanity of a werewolf is completely lost." He only sees werewolves that have not been human in months, or even years. Or, he sees the ones who are even worse off.The worse news is that Tyler is told there's a cure. Sometimes, the PRI manages to poke and prod at a werewolf and for reasons we just don't understand they never transform again. So he doesn't argue with the tests, and even if he writes a will he doesn't tell Monet anything because he might be fine, and he doesn't want to worry her. He throws himself into his work and into making Monet happy, because he wants to make sure that if he is lost he leaves a legacy. There's something to prove that Tyler Casey's existence was justified.Then he finds out what the cure entails. It's not recovery, not at all; it's pushing someone so hard, making them so afraid, that their body can't take being afraid anymore. A person who’s too tired to feel doesn't shift, not even under the full moon, because the werewolf's state of mind is defined by the person's emotions before it happens (so if someone was actually CALM, really truly calm, then they'd manage to control it, but hunger and anger and fear can all throw that out of wack). If the person is numb, there is nothing for the curse to react to.Tyler Casey would rather die after trying his hardest than live longer but not be able to do anything. So, when he manages to find a job opening at The Askar Foundation, a secret society with more funding and more knowledge than the FBI could ever hope for, he has no qualms spilling the PRI's secrets in exchange for a position as a field agent.As you can probably guess, August, Monet, and Franc are all there as well. The circumstances of their recruitment were significantly less...consensual than his (Monet and Franc recently saw too much and got pressganged in, and after nearly killing Franc while transformed August got dragged in for Askar's own brand of tests). This leads to a veritable five layer dip of fucking drama:1. Franc and Tyler have a private conversation which leads to the revelation of several character secrets on both their parts. This ends when Tyler and Franc both insist that they saw different things during one of the scenes. Franc has always had the ability to tell when people lie to her, but she is also convinced she's right about their topic of conversation (which uh, she IS right, so). That means that, despite the fact that she can't feel him lying, he MUST be. She's convinced that he's had the supernatural ability to get around her own uncanny powers this whole time, and thus they engaged in a Comedy of Errors where instead of mistaken identities it’s Tyler saying things that further convince Franc he's trying to manipulate the entire team2. The Askar foundation would very much like to keep their shiny new field agent, and also Tyler still has connections to the FBI and him snitching to them would be.........inconvenient. So they're willing to put effort, within reason, into making sure he doesn't find out anything that might cause problems, like the fact that August is a kind of monster Tyler has a massive vendetta against. Or uh...anything else that might make him question them. This leads to3. Askar shutting down a conversation between him and Monet, leading to her concluding that talking about their past experiences with the supernatural OR the workings of Askar will never go well. (Exacerbated by the fact that Askar had already been trying to keep her from finding out shit about her brother) 4. Consequently, Monet will no longer talk to him about deep personal topics if they lead back to these things at ALL5. Franc ended up in a romantic entanglement w/ the monster of the week, who is a shapeshifter unwillingly being used to bring about...the apocalypse. He thinks the reason she doesn’t trust him is because she figured out he was a werewolf, and doesn’t trust him/is keeping an eye on him so she can put him down when he becomes dangerous. So he thinks she hates him bc he’s a shapeshifter that has no control over himself, but then she’s fine with...the OTHER shapeshifter that has no control over himself.6. August thinks Tyler hates werewolves because of the attack, and is afraid to enter a relationship with him because he wouldn't be able to keep his condition a secret7. Tyler refuses to let himself entertain notions of actually DATING August, because Tyler thinks he's going to die and doesn't want to hurt even MORE people when he goes8. Tyler and Monet platonically love each other so much and are also living together in Seinfeld's mansion that she stole the keys to, and Tyler is an idiot which means August thinks Tyler wants to date Monet (August's SISTER)So tl;dr, Tyler thinks that after Franc gained access to more Askar files she suddenly doesn't trust him (he assumes she knows he's a werewolf), he knows that Monet suddenly doesn't want to TALK to him and knows that if he discovers anything suspicious he thus cannot tell her, and he knows he......really, really, REALLY is starting to enjoy August's companyThis means that conversations oscillate between Tyler being professionally friendly with all his coworkers, Franc interpreting something random as a personal attack, Monet deeply wishing she could tell Tyler something, and then a completely stupid conversation where Tyler and August are flirting about something stupid and getting cockblocked by Tyler's hangups and August remembering that as far as he's concerned Tyler and Monet should get together.Oh and also Askar definitely is fucking with his head at least once a session.

#my ocs #tyler casey #rip me #A mysterious traveler #Hark! Who goes there?

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 6 years

Text

Zombie - Dallon Weekes x Reader

Request: For the zombie apocalypse thing I was thinking of Dallon and the reader getting stuck together alone (they lost everyone else) and as the weeks pass they get closer and closer since they only have each other. And then at the end either of them is bitten and they only have 24 hours left to be together until the venom kicks in and they have to say goodbye. Idk if you’d be willing to do something like that?

Warnings: violence, everyone dies (and I mean EVERYONE), blood, zombies, guns, all these nice things, sad

Word count: 3 593

A/N: My baby sister decided the ending, so all complaints about that go to her

It seemed like yesterday, yet worlds apart that you had seen the news, warning about this new disease. For a few weeks it had only been that, a message on the tv, but then everything had gone downhill. Some people said it was a virus that had escaped a research facility. Some people said it was a disease from outer space, something that had come to earth on a meteorite. Some people said it was god’s punishment. You did not know where it came from. You only knew it had taken everyone you had ever loved from you, first your mother and your father, your grandparents and then even your little sister. The city had turned into a ghost town.

Unlike the movies always pictured, not all the other living people wanted to harm you. Over time you met many people who all searched for help, so you helped each other. Almost half a year after the outbreak of this ‘zombie-virus’ as you called it, you had become part of a big group of survivors, every day fighting to survive in the wasteland that this world had become. Some people would argue that big groups were not effective, and it was true to certain extends. The more people you were the slower you could travel, the less agile you were. But bigger groups meant more safety. There were always several people on guard duty while the others were cooking or sleeping. You had more knowledge about everything, since everyone knew different things. And you felt saver in general.

For a while this group seemed to withstand every obstacle that was thrown in its way. You were a team, you were strong together. And then the first one died.

It was Patrick, poor, sweet Patrick. You had liked him the moment you first saw him. He had become your best friend in the group, always making an effort to be nice and optimistic.

It had been a not unusual scenario. The group had inspected an old supermarket, in the hopes of finding more than a few berries to eat, and had been surprised by the zombies, undead, diseased, whatever you want to call them. Everyone had started running, but some of these monsters had been fast, terribly fast. They had grabbed Patrick by his legs and pulled him to the floor. Gerard and Ray had immediately turned around, trying to save him, but they had only been able to watch as their friend was torn into pieces by the bloodthirsty creatures.

It had been Dallon, Dallon of all people, who had picked your crying and screaming form up, carrying you away from the scene of the murder. You had liked Patrick, he had been your friend and you refused to believe that he was gone. And you hated Dallon, he was always for himself, never seemed to care about anyone, and now he was separating you from your best friend.

You had nightmares for weeks, the blood and the screams still vivid in your imagination. The only comfort you had gotten, was the hat, Patrick had left behind. You knew it was stupid and childish, but when the horrors where too overwhelming, you took the hat and cradled it against your chest, like a kid with its stuffed toy.

The second one was Brendon. At first everything seemed fine, only a bite. Mikey had been fast with killing the monster, so a single bite seemed easy to deal with. Or so everyone thought.

You had taken care of the wound, being the one with the most extensive medical knowledge. You had wrapped a semi-clean bandage around Brendon’s injured hand and told him to check it tomorrow.

It had been during dinner, exactly twenty-four hours after the bite. Brendon was telling a story, the bowl with hot soup resting in his lap, when he suddenly fell asleep. Everyone had exchanged glances, wondering how someone like Brendon could fall asleep in the middle of a sentence, and then Joe noticed he was not breathing. You had scrambled to your feet, quickly walking over to the seemingly asleep Brendon, and had taken his pulse. None.

In that moment his eyes had snapped open and he had taken hold of your arm. His teeth were dangerously close to your skin when Dallon had pulled you away from him. Everyone had gotten up in fear, watching as Brendon had stood up. But these had not been the graceful movements you knew. These were the uncoordinated, rickety movements of these zombies, dead eyes staring into the round. Frank was the first one to act, taking a big stone and smashing it into Brendon’s head, effectively killing the monster your friend had become.

And so you figured out how these zombies came into existence. When you were bitten, you had twenty-four hours before dying and then inevitably reawaking as one of these creatures, thirsting for human blood. But they were not alive, these creatures were dead. They started rotting away, while walking around, and that explained the missing limbs, the terrible smell, the typical ‘zombie-look’.

For a few weeks nothing had happened, no one had died, no one had fallen victim to the monsters. And just when you felt like maybe you all would get out of this alive, somehow, no matter how long it would take to fight this, Gerard died.

Gerard had been the unofficial leader of the group and without him, you felt more lost than ever. And from there on people died in rapid succession.

Within two weeks Pete, Frank, Mikey and Joe were taken from you, leaving only Andy, Ray, Dallon and you.

You still did not like Dallon. He was an arrogant ass sometimes and he barely bothered to talk to you. It upset you, especially since the group had now shrunk to the size of four, making communication more important than ever. You even thought that it would be easier to kill yourself than to live with Dallon if the other two should die.

That was before you got robbed.

Your experience with other humans in this zombie apocalypse was that everyone searched for help. If they did not want to team up, you helped each other as good as possible and everyone went their separate ways. These people were different. They had pointed guns to your heads, asking you to hand over your weapons and food together with all the medical material. The four of you had shared quick glances, deciding that you had nothing that was valuable enough to risk your lives for. You had handed over everything you had, apart from the knives that each of you carried well hidden in the legs of your trousers. Everything would have been fine if it had stayed at that, as fine as being robbed can be. But then they decided that they had taken a liking in you, how much fun they could have with you. Andy had told them to cut the shit talk. It had been the last thing he said before a bullet in the head sent him to the ground. Ray had quickly jumped to your protection, wanting to make sure they kept their fingers off of you, but he paid with his life. You still felt the drizzle of warm, sticky blood on your skin. Dallon had not thought twice before he had grabbed your hand and pulled you away. Bullets had hit the dirt to your feet and the trees left and right off you, but none had found their way to Dallon’s or your body.

It had been twenty-seven days since then. After you had finished running, you had broken down, tears streaming down your face unstoppably. It felt hopeless. Your once big group of eleven had been broken down to two. Your friends had died trying to protect you. How were you ever going to escape this mess?

Much to your surprise, Dallon had sat down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, holding you so tight, making it feel like he was holding the pieces of your breaking apart soul into place. You appreciated that, and you told him. It seemed fate had conspired against you, leaving you with the man you had still not managed to like in the entire year you had now known him. But since it felt like you were the last two people on earth, you decided to make the best out of it, and so did Dallon as it seemed.

He always woke you up when you had a nightmare, hugged you, wiped your tears away when you were crying. You would have done the same for him, but he never showed his emotions. You wondered if he just did not feel them, but he seemed to understand how much you were suffering, so he had to feel something. Maybe he just hid it all away.

As weeks passed, you started to like Dallon more and more, something you had thought impossible. You still knew nothing about his past, or what his favorite movie had been, but you learned a lot about his character. And the more you learned the more you liked it. Often you wondered if it was an effect of you two being the only ones left or if it would have happened otherwise too, but then again it did not matter. It was unlikely that you would ever learn what it would be like to lead a normal life with him, so you could at least focus on your feelings in the moment. It was not like you could just walk up to him and tell him about it either, so you tried to put your energy into keeping the two of you safe.

~*~

It was Day 406, maybe 408, you were not sure, one of those two, when for the first time Dallon had a nightmare. It was your turn to keep watch, so you were immediately alarmed when you heard the unfamiliar sound of whimpering coming from behind you. You turned around, finding Dallon sweat bathed, pale and mumbling nonsense curled up in his blanket. You jumped up, quickly shaking your companion awake. He shot up, eyes widened in terror and for a moment his gaze flickered around aimlessly before it found you.

“It’s alright,” you told him, “It was just a nightmare.”

Without warning he flung his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. You could feel how he was shaking from the pictures that had chased him in his dream. It must have been really bad.

“I lost you,” he whispered, “I lost you and there was nothing I could do.”

You heart broke a little at his confession, how much pain there was in his voice.

“But I’m here,” you told him, taking his face gently into your hands and forcing him to look at you, “I’m right here, I’m not gonna go anywhere, okay?”

Dallon was studying your face for a moment.

“Promise,” he demanded, his voice still weak.

“I promise,” you answered with a reassuring smile.

And then he crashed his lips into yours. Your heart stopped for a moment when all these little dreams and longings of the last weeks came true. You kissed back, carefully caressing his skin with your fingers, sighing quietly when you felt him smile.

This changed everything. It was not just a one sided crush, it was not your mind going crazy. Dallon liked you back, and this made your bond so much stronger. You were willing to fight for each other, willing to give your own life for the other, and it made both of you dangerous, almost invincible, to any other threat.

But only almost, as the bleeding, red wound of a jaw with several missing teeth, reminded you.

You had not even noticed the bite at first. You had been too busy smashing in another zombie’s head before it attacked Dallon. Just when both of you had stopped, standing in the middle of blood and guts of slaughtered zombies, you felt the red, warm liquid drop down your arm. You whimpered quietly, well aware what this meant. Dallon turned around to you, growing paler than freshly fallen snow. His lip quivered and you knew he was holding back tears, when he told you that everything would be fine, that he would take care of this.

Together you walked back to the hide out you had found a few weeks ago. It was safe here, a tiny cave in the middle of a hill, lots of gravel all around making it impossible for these monsters to get up here with their uncoordinated movements.

To your surprise you were calm about everything, maybe because you had been prepared to die since the day your parents had died.

Dallon sat you down, cleaning the wound and using some of the valuable painkiller cream on the wound. He was quiet, tried to keep calm in order to not make you panic.

You knew that you had to talk. There was no way in hell you would turn into one of these zombies and in the end even hurt him.

“You need to kill me,” you told him. Your voice was hard, you knew what you wanted.

“Okay.”

You were a little surprised at Dallon’s answers. Maybe you had not expected him to take your request as good as he did, but then again, he probably had thought about this situation too. What would he want if he got bitten? Probably not turn into a monster.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” you tried to explain.

“I know,” Dallon nodded, wrapping his arms around you. “Just promise me that we use all the time we have left. Let’s not talk about what will happen tomorrow.”

“But we have to, Dallon, you will have to kill me-“

“You’ll die by yourself, remember,” his voice was quiet and you knew that if he talked any louder it would start to shake. “All I’ll do is making sure you don’t come back.”

You nodded, feeling a burning sensation in your eyes and nose, so you quickly leant forward, pressing your lips against his. The distraction worked and soon all negative thoughts were replaced with the image of the wonderful man in front of you.

You did not care about eating, or drinking or anything else. The only thing that mattered was Dallon and you. You had never taken the luxury of committing yourselves to each other as you did now. Nothing mattered than the other. Not for today, not for this last time. Every time you grew tired and the thoughts dared to take over, you started kissing again, not leaving any space for worries about the future.

These last hours of your far too short life were cold stone under your back, Dallon’s hot skin against yours, lips sealed in infinite kisses and whispered confessions of love. If you had to leave this world, this was the way you wanted to do it, safely wrapped into the arms of your lover, not having to think about the world, about what happened or about what was to come.

In the end it was you who suggested ending this outside of the cave. Your initial idea was that Dallon could keep living in this tiny cave, without having to picture you dying every single minute he was spending there. But he did not have to know that, so you told him you wanted to see the sun one last time.

The twenty-four hours were almost up when you reached the edge of a lake. The water peacefully splashed against the trees that grew at the strand and the setting sun reflected on the water like a million diamonds. Dallon pulled you in his lap, his lips wandering over your neck, kissing the love bites he had left on your skin during the last day, his breath fanning over your ears, making goosebumps rise on your arms. You reached behind you, tangling your hands in his brown hair, and turned your head for a kiss. His lips had always been a weakness of yours you realized, and softly smiled against them. The last sunbeams painted warm patterns of light against the skin of your face, while Dallon’s hands gently caressed your sides, his lips never parting from yours, no matter how hard breathing seemed.

“I love you, so so much,” you whispered, refusing to draw your mouth away from his and instead whispering it against his soft, kiss-swollen lips.

“I love you too,” Dallon answered without missing a beat, quickly occupying your mouth with his again, knowing your time was running out.

You thought dying from a zombie-virus would be painful, but it wasn’t. Your head got heavy and started spinning a little, the sensation of Dallon’s lips against yours, his hands on your sides never leaving your consciousness, and then it was over.

When Dallon felt the body going slack, he gently set them down on the soft, earthy ground and got up. He had not even a minute before they would turn, so he quickly turned them on the side. Killing a zombie had been difficult in the beginning until someone in the group had figured out that the nerves in the spinal column had to be separated in the neck. Almost anything did the job, a heavy stone in the neck, a bullet…

But this was the person he loved so much, the person who had promised to never leave him. They had lied, he thought bitterly. Carefully he pulled out the knife from his boot. It would be one cut, a simple, short motion with the blinking steel he was holding in his hand.

He knelt down next to the person he had lost his heart to, and gently ran his finger over the vertebras in their neck. When he had found a good spot, he carefully placed the knife and took a deep breath.

“Stop!”

Dallon looked up, tears clouding his vision, as he saw several people step out of the trees around him. They were dressed weirdly, like scientists from a science-fiction movie, wearing white chemical protective suits.

“They’re gonna turn, let me do the right thing,” Dallon tried to tell them, they had to know what was going on, that if he did not do it now, his beloved (y/n) would turn into a nightmarish monster.

“Step back,” one of the weird people demanded but Dallon refused, the knife still sitting between the vertebras in their neck.

Before he could do anything else, he was pulled back, gloved hands wrapped around his arms, another pair of hands took the knife out of his hands.

Dallon was screaming, crying, kicking, trying to explain that he had promised them, that they would turn into something they never wanted to be if they did not let him do this.

Some of the people crowded around (y/n)’s body. The metal of a large syringe blinked in their hands before they drove it into the body.

~*~

White.

Beeping.

A terrible pain in your head made you open your eyes. Bright light flooded your vision, a white ceiling hovering a few meters above you. You turned your head, trying to find out where you were. You were rested on a soft pillow, white too, covered with a blanket. The room was small, next to your bed stood a machine, blinking lights and quiet beeping signaling you that it was working. Cables reached from the center of the machine to your body, disappearing under the light blue hospital gown you were wearing. And then you saw him. Sunken into himself, tightly asleep, longish, brown hair that you saw brushed and clean for the first time, Dallon sat in a chair next to your bed.

“Dallon,” your voice was hoarse and it hurt using it, but you wanted him to notice you.

You did not care what had happened, if this was heaven, hell or anything in between. You just wanted him to look at you with these beautiful, blue eyes.

His head snatched up, dark circles under his eyes, and a big smile spreading over his face when he saw you looking at him.

“You’re awake,” he cheered and with two long steps he was at your side.

He sat down on the bed next to you, his hands immediately cradling your face, his fingers brushing over the soft skin of your cheeks. He leant down and placed the softest, lightest kiss on your lips, as if he was scared to hurt you.

“What happened,” you asked.

“We’ve been saved,” he whispered, “All these days when we wondered where the government and the scientist were, why no one was saving us? They were, they were working on it and they found us just in time.”

You listened to his words, they sounded like the sweetest lies to you, but right now you did not care about truths or lies. All that mattered was that he was here, next to you, both of you alive. You pulled him in for another kiss, this one harder, more demanding, before you whispered the words you would always tell him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he answered immediately, making you smile.

Maybe you had been saved. After all that happened, after all the people you had lost, all the grief you had been through, all the nightmares and all the heartbreak, maybe you had been saved.

No, not maybe. You definitely had been saved.

#dallon weekes x reader #dallon weekes x reader fluff #dallon weekes fluff #dallon weekes #zombie #zombie apocalypse #zombie apocalypse au #sad #everyone dies #fluff #romance #violence

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nyoschief · 6 years

Note

Can you share with us a WIP of your writing? Or maybe a little tease of it? Thank you! ^w^

sURE????

Rating: MatureContent: Cow Chop, Sugar Pine 7Pairings: Brett & Lindsey, (one-sided)Alfredo/AutumnCharacters: Brett(CC), Lindsey(CC), Jeremy(SP7), Autumn(SP7), Alfredo(SP7)Tags: 1910s, 1920s, 1930s, War, Werewolves, Crime, (sorta) Origins StoryWarnings: Cat Calling, Anger Issues, Unwanted Sexual Advances, Minor Character Death, Guns, Past Forced Tattooing, Gore, Mentions of Dog Fights, Werewolf Genocide, AlfredoWords: 11,282

“Sorry it took so long to meet you again.”“I mean, no rush, I’m just kind of going screwy, you know, the usual.”“Glad I’m not the only one.”

“Found her half crazy without a pack. I’m teaching her to control herself during the full moon but she likes being by herself mostly.”“How old was she?”“Barely fourteen, last year, she’s still new.”“I can teach her.”“No, sorry, but we’ve bonded.”“Pack, huh? Don’t lose it.”

“Papers,” the woman demands, staring up at him blankly. Brett hands them to her, eyes drifting over to the man being led down the hallway, his eyes glancing backwards at Brett, nostrils flaring. He can’t tell if the man’s just curious or wants to fight him, not at this distance, but he doesn’t have the opportunity to dwell on that when his papers are handed back. “To the left, down the hall, room number forty seven.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says with a nod and turns on his heels. Brett sniffs at the air as he goes and pauses as an unfamiliar man steps into the hallway, freezing at the same time Brett does. After a quick glance at each other, Brett keeps going, walks right past him, and ignores the way the man shrinks away and hurries in the opposite direction. He hates the smell here, chemicals and bleach, clogs up his nose and makes his head start pounding.

Even so, he keeps his head up and gives the designated room a rap on the door. It opens immediately and he’s met with a smiling face.

She opens her mouth only to freeze. Her smile drops the moment she inhales, eyes wide. Brett can only quirk an eyebrow and shoot a glance over her shoulder.

The doctor smiles at him and says, “Come in, come in, please, sit on the cot.” Brett hesitates, even after the nurse steps aside, hands curling against her chest, covering the red cross emblem. He steps forward and puts on a grin as he does as requested, sitting down on the foam bed. “This is nothing to worry about, just a test to make sure you’re hard-boiled! Don’t want you dropping like a fly on the front line, do we?”

“Course not,” Brett responds with ease. The door clicks shut and he watches as the woman keeps her head down, hurrying over to the small cart against the wall. Brett smiles at the man when he approaches, offering his left arm when it’s requested. “I can assure you, I’m perfectly healthy.”

“And how! But the tests will tell me for certain,” he responds, a small bottle in his hand. He unscrews the cap and squeezes the small pipette on the top. Movement over the doctor’s shoulder catches Brett’s eyes and he looks up in time to see the nurse who stares right at him and bites down hard on a pencil. She stops and looks back at him, waiting for a response.

…What?

Fire flares on his forearm. Brett subdues a flinch and looks down to see the droplet of clear fluid sitting on his skin. It singes, burning at his skin, making it turn red. He clears his throat, controls the waver in it, and asks, “What’s this?”

The doctor’s back is turned to him and he replaces the bottle in the cart. “Oh, just a test to see if you have any skin allergies.”

The nurse hurries over and quickly wipes off the droplet with her sleeve. Brett grunts softly, the smear stinging even more. She just slaps a wet cloth over his arm, cleaning it up entirely. He hisses under his breath so the human can’t hear, “What are you doing?”

“Saving your life,” she responds. His skin is still red and Brett can smell her fear, acrid and sour, stinging his nose to breathe in. With a quick glance at the doctor’s back, the woman withdraws a small tube from her pocket and puts a dollop of the cream on the area. Rubs it in with haste.

“Washburn, results?” the doctor asks, finally turning around. The woman pauses and pretends to inspect Brett’s arm, leaning down to squint at it. The redness has already started to fade.

“No reaction. I think I may have accidentally scratched him with my nail, but nothing to do with the test, Doctor Frederick.”

Brett remains quiet, even as Doctor Frederick sighs and wanders closer. “Dumb Dora, is nobody home? Couldn’t have gotten in with the ANC instead of the Red Cross?”

“My apologies, Doctor,” she responds on automatic, stepping to the side to allow her superior to inspect Brett’s skin. He holds his arm up for a closer look and the doctor squints through his spectacles.

After a moment’s deliberation, he gives a firm nod and retrieves a piece of paper from his desk. The nurse peers at the paper and lets slip a sigh, shoulders dropping, patting her chest in relief. Fountain pen in hand, Frederick waves Brett over and says, “Full name, please.”

“Brett Hundley, Two Ts, H-U-N, D-L-E-Y.” The doctor scrawls the name on the paper and gives a nod. He stamps it, signs, blows on the drying ink, and hands it over to Brett. “Is this all?”

“Yes, that’s all, you’re free to go. You’re doing a great thing here, Hundley, make our country proud. Close the door when you blow.” Brett can only nod at the man and turn to leave. He catches sight of the label of the bottle the man had used liquid from, reads ‘wolfsb-’ oh.

Before he can exit the room, Brett whispers to the nurse, “Thank you.”

He thinks he hears her say, “I’m sorry,” right before he shuts the door behind himself

He picks up the Red Cross brochure and pockets it, both dread and anticipation bubbling inside his stomach as he heads home to tell Mother of his acceptance into the war.

He celebrates onboard the boat on their way back home. Brett can barely feel the rolling of the waves as he drinks his beer, laughter bubbling all around. Maxi gives him a wicked grin and starts flicking bottle caps at him, sniggering the entire time. He has a very tired Frank curled up against his side, purring and kneading at his jacket, even as Harley and Oscar bicker on the other side of the table. They’re the only ones left in the bar at this stage, even the bartender has cut them off from alcohol and called it a night. They still have four or five bottles left, enough for another hour, especially with how little Oscar and Harley are drinking between their banter.

Maxi flicks a cap, it hits him right beneath his eye, Brett grabs him and yanks him into a headlock. Frank yelps as he’s jostled awake, almost falling to the floor. Maxi begins struggling and Brett lets him for a few moments before releasing him. Again, Frank startles away before Brett could squish him as he’s shoved onto his back, Maxi grinning above him, eyes flashing golden and a laugh on his breath.

The doors slam open, someone yells, “GET DOWN!” and another person starts shooting. Maxi falls first, screaming and clutching at his shoulder. Brett rolls and drops to the floor underneath the table in time to see Oscar shoving himself in front of Harley. Frank starts running, feet pounding on metal, and immediately gets gunned down.

Brett doesn’t dare move, knows when he’s outgunned, ears ringing with gunshots, and waits until Harley ceases screaming, his body lying still, blood pooled around him and half his skull shattered.

Boots walk over and stop right in front of the table. An unfamiliar man crouches down in front of him, clean-shaven and a head of black hair. Brett ducks away from him and the man squints before saying, “Brett Hundley?”

He nods and responds, “Yes, Sir.”

“Did these monsters attack you?”

Monsters.

Brett looks over and spots Oscar’s ears out, claws ready for a fight that he never got the chance to end. Brett’s eyes shoot back to the man and he asks, “What are they?”

“They’re dead now.” Liar. They’re not dead, and even if they are dead right now, still and no longer breathing, they’d come back later. “Were you bitten?”

“No, they…” Brett looks over at Maxi’s body and gestures with a tilt of his head. “He grabbed me and pinned me, I couldn’t- he was so strong… what are they?”

“Don’t worry, we will handle this,” the man says again, holding a hand out. Brett takes it and slides out from under the table.

“I thought they were my friends…”

The man snorts and pats his shoulder, squeezing and trying to be reassuring. “Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you anymore. You’re almost home, soldier, are you not excited to see your family again?”

“Of course, of course… I? I’m not supposed to mention this to anyone, am I?”

“You’re smart. Yes, mention this to no one, not even your parents or wife.” Nonexistent wife.

Brett is quick to nod, still glancing over the dead bodies. He hopes he’s convincing enough, hopes he can claim the way his hands are shaking is from fear rather than rage. He receives a couple sympathetic looks from the soldiers when he shuffles past them, still holding their smoking guns and staring at the temporary corpses lying on the floor.

Is this all the government wanted from his kind? To fight in some war and then, when they return, capture them and do god knows what? Brett grimaces and heads directly towards his cabin, now reduced from five occupants to one.

He raises his voice and turns on her. She flinches. She cowers. Brett immediately withdraws, staring at her as she slowly lowers her arms from a defensive position. He runs fingers through his hair, pushing ears down against his skull until his claws recede.

With a steady inhale, Brett says in a level tone, “I am never going to hurt you.”

It hurts when she doesn’t respond, simply nods and turns around to walk away.

It feels like being shot, something he’s familiar with, when she hesitates by her room and looks back at him, only to say, “I guess some things are genetic.” Brett just stares as she closes the door and leaves him in the living room, standing in his own shame and regret. He’s tempted to go after her, slam the door open and say how dare you speak to me like that-

He immediately shakes the thought from his head, turns on his heels, grabs his coat, and leaves the house. Petrichor fills Brett’s nose as he walks across the cobblestone, shoulders up, ignoring the bright glow of the moon.

Right, the moon. Full moon tomorrow, that’s probably why he’s in such a horrible mood. Nothing a walk can’t fix. He’s been itching to shift for the past week and makes a beeline for the outskirts of town, brushing past the late-night strollers as he goes.

When Brett returns, it’s silent. Nothing unusual, but he can’t hear Mother’s snores. There’s picture frames missing from the shelves, the linen on the couch gone, things shuffled just the slightest bit.

“Mother?” he calls, walking over to her door. He knocks on it first, just in case she’s indecent, but opens it when he receives no reply.

Her coat no longer hangs beside the bed, purse missing, her knitting bundled up into a bag and tucked under the desk. Her throw no longer covers the bed, shoes missing from the closet, clothes gone from her drawers.

She left.

Brett inhales through his nose slowly.

He slams his fist through the door.

He pulls back with a wince, splinters sticking out of his knuckles, blood beading along his fingers and the back of his hand. The bed goes next, mattress tossed against the cupboards as they rattle, the metal frame snapping with a twang when he stomps on it.

Brett only leaves her room when every piece of furniture in there is cracked, broken, warped, twisted. He picks up a beer and gets two sips into it before putting it back in the refrigerator. It’s not that he’s glad she’s gone, it’s not that he’s sad she left, he’s just… why? He thought it’d be better with Father gone.

He doesn’t sleep.

It’s only when the sun breaks that he goes back to Mother’s room and tries to fix the damage he wrought.

Not that it makes a difference.

He’s going crazy.

Brett isn’t blind.

If anything, he’s self-aware.

It’s why when he realises he’s growling at the paperboy, he stops and retreats with a half-assed apology. Tries to remember all the lessons Mother taught him. His brain starts hollering when he thinks pack. But… there aren’t any other werewolves left, not here at least. The enlisters made sure of that.

Wait.

Brett hurries to the study, shifting through the papers on his desk. Sure enough, he finds the brochure he picked up on the day he enlisted for the war. The Red Cross. Maybe that nurse is still alive. She snuck right under their noses; no one bothered to check if the nurses were werewolves. Maybe she’s still smart.

Brett’s mostly just surprised by how simple it is; he shows up at the hospital and hands the receptionist the brochure, says he’s looking for an old friend, Washburn. The woman smiles at him, says she began working at the hospital after the war ended, and gives him her address.

He almost backs out, especially when it starts raining. She will remember him, perfect Anthirio memory, but she might just be creeped out by him tracking her down, and showing up on her doorstep. Maybe scream Murder! and slam the door on him.

He scares people, it’s just what he does.

He runs through the rain, head down, remembers the street names and counts the numbers on the houses until he stops at a small townhouse. Double checks the address, triple checks the number as the rain gets heavier, drenching his hair and the collar of his shirt. He hovers for a moment before he sucks in a breath and raps on the door.

Cutlery clatters from within and he hears the squeaking of floorboards underneath footsteps until the door unlocks and opens a fraction.

The nurse sticks her head out, unaged and confused.

Then she seems to register his face, takes a sniff at the air, and her face lights up with a grin.

Brett barely has time to brace himself before she launches, arms wrapping around him, heedless of his drenched clothes and the rain pouring down on them. He grabs her before she can slip, frowning and trying to think of what to say. He goes silent when she turns and buries her face in his chest, breathing. Her feet barely touch the ground but she doesn’t let him go, fingers clenched into his leather trench coat.

Brett doesn’t move until he hears a faint sob on her breath. He turns his head down, resting his nose against messy brown hair, and frowns at the bittersweet smell coming off of her, sad and relieved at the same time.

“Uhm,” he begins. It seems to startle her out of it as she quickly takes a step back under shelter and looks up at him. He can tell it’s not the rain that made her face wet as she wipes her cheeks clean.

“Ah, sorry, uhm, Mr. Hundley, I just… I’m so happy to see someone else.” So it’s true; the city has been effectively eradicated of Anthirios. Something on his face drops and the woman mirrors it. “Is your family okay?” she asks quietly.

“No family anymore, it’s just me.”

He looks away, doesn’t want to be given her sympathy, but she just lets out a choked up laugh and says, “It’s just me too.” Brett looks back at the woman, both eyebrows up. “I was just… I kept looking at the newspaper, hoping for something. We had another at the hospital a few months ago, but as soon as his name was recorded, some officials came in and took him away. We were being hunted and… and I couldn’t find anyone else. But, you’re… you’re Genetic?” Brett gives a slow nod and sees her face light up with a grin. “Ducky! Then, we’re not extinct yet.”

“Yeah, not yet,” he agrees, shoulders sagging. He bows his head and pushes his hair back when it tries to get into his eyes.

Washburn seems to startle and takes a quick step back into the house, holding the door open and gesturing at him as she says, “You wanna come in?”

Brett responds, “I could be a killer.” Immediately regrets it; he can’t handle the only other Anthirio in the city rejecting him.

The woman just laughs at him and shakes her head. “I’ll take my chances.” He admires her bravery and kindness, smiles and keeps his head down when he steps inside and removes his coat. She takes it from him and hangs it up, saying he can leave his shoes at the door. Brett hesitates before doing as suggested, closing and locking the oak door behind himself.

He finds her sitting beside the fireplace, setting down a second cup on the end table as she asks, “Tea?”

He drops into the seat adjacent to her and says, “Please.” He hesitates before letting his ears out, shaking his head to try and get the water off. She does the same, ears blending with her hair as she ruffles her skirt to make room for her tail. “So, you know my name, what’s yours?” he questions, gratefully accepting the cup of tea as she hands it to him.

“Oh, sorry, Lindsey Washburn.”

“It’s lovely to make your acquaintance, Lindsey,” he announces and offers his free hand. Lindsey takes it with a grin, watches as Brett leans forward to kiss the top of her hand, and he spots the sway of her skirt as he releases his grip. “Sorry it took so long to meet you again.”

“I mean, no rush, I’m just kind of going screwy, you know, the usual.”

“Glad I’m not the only one.”

“You won’t be the only one from now on,” she says with a grin, cradling her teacup in hand.

Brett takes a second to think that over before he nods and smiles back at her. “Yeah, guess so.”

Before he leaves, he yanks one of the cotton bracelets from his wrist and hands it over to Lindsey. She blinks, eyebrows up, before smiling appreciatively. The smile drops a second later as she states, “Oh no, I don’t have any scent markers to give you, I’m sorry!”

“It’s alright, as long as you can find me, it’s fine.”

She immediately smiles again and bids him goodnight.

Brett laughs at the look of surprise and pure glee that overcomes Lindsey’s face when she sees him waiting at the hospital entrance. She picks up her pace, satchel against her hip, and wraps arms around his middle. He leans in to nose against her temple, ignoring the sounds of people rushing around nearby, just grateful to have someone else with him. A week since they reconnected and she’s still the same bubbly woman since day one, a soft whine in her exhale before she bounces back with that bright smile on her face.

“So, are you walking me home?”

“That was the plan, hope you don’t have any other suitors planning on doing so.”

“Oh, you my suitor now, big timer?” she asks. When Brett looks at her, she sticks her tongue out and starts walking down the street, glancing backwards to make sure he follows. He keeps pace with her and holds out a newspaper. “What’s this?”

“Page three, left column,” he says, pinching onto her coat and tugging her out of the way of a coach. Lindsey flips through the pages as Brett keeps talking. “I’ll bet you three dollars that’s an Anthirio.”

She bumps into his side with a lighthearted laugh. “Anthirio, ooh, so formal.”

“Well, not everyone is a Werewolf, so it’s, you know, nicer to use the proper terminology rather than the more widespread one.” Lindsey just nods her head and hums, her pace slowing as she reads the newspaper. She comes to a stop a few stores down and Brett guides her out of the way of oncoming pedestrians. “They’re all losing their minds,” Brett confirms when she looks up at him with wide eyes, “no pack, no family, nothing. They’ve gone screwy and gotten caught.”

“Well, I mean, we can try to find them, can’t we?”

Brett scoffs and snaps, “You think I haven’t been trying?”

Lindsey’s eyebrows jump. “Wow, I mean, sure, but no need to get in a lather ‘bout it.”

“I-” He bites down on his retort and simply huffs in response.

It melts when Lindsey grins at him and says, “Don’t get all mad, just smile and laugh it off.”

“That what you do?”

“Yep, it works for me.” Brett exhales through his nose but gives a nod. “Have you checked the eastern side of the city? I know my cousins and aunt blew that way when the war first began.”

“I have. I’ve ankled up and down every street, sniffing at every door, and found nothing.” She hums again and hands the newspaper back to him. He slips it into his coat and adds on, “I was too scared to try howling, hunters might-”

“Ey! Bearcat!” Lindsey stiffens, the smile melting from her face as a trio of boys dart out of a sidestreet, weaving between other people to get closer. Brett squints as Lindsey ignores them until one skips around in front of her, slowing her down. “Oh Nurse Washburn, I think I got a cut on my lip, how ‘bout some cash?”

“You aren’t showing off your gams today?” She bats at the hand that tries to lift her lengthy dress. The man just laughs. “Come on, you’re a sheba, not a bluenose.”

His friend has the audacity to reach out for her arm only for Lindsey to wave her hand sharply and turn her head away. “Bank’s closed, so beat it, you dewdroppers.”

Brett remains quiet as she keeps her face blank and tries to go around them. She’s immediately cut off with outstretched arms as the shortest of the three leans in close and says, “Don’t be like that, a choice bit of calico like you needs a someone to protect her, yeah?”

Brett is about ready to shove them away when Lindsey just smiles and says, “You’re right, a doll such as myself does need a man to protect me.” She immediately links her arm with Brett’s, presses up against his side, and says, “Sorry, but it isn’t any of you lot. Now go chase yourself before my bimbo beats you up.”

Their attention shifts to Brett as he rests his hand over the top of Lindsey’s and starts leading her down the street. He gets a couple paces away before the cockier of the lot grabs him by the sleeve and tugs. “Who do you think you are, huh? Baby grand?”

Brett turns around slowly, keeps his head high, and holds out his right hand. “Brett Hundley. 39th Infantry Regiment, 4th Division, 7th Brigade, Fighting Falcons. I served on the front lines in France. Aisne-Marne, St. Mihiel, Meuse-Argonne, Champagne nineteen eighteen, Lorraine nineteen eighteen.” He can’t help but smirk at the way the boy hesitates when he accepts Brett’s handshake. He makes sure to squeeze that little bit harder than necessary as he leers and says, “We don’t have beef, do we? Because I’m a vegetarian and I’d hate to cast a kitten because you got in a lather. We both know who’d win that fight.”

“Of course, Sir,” he responds quickly, gaze lowered to stare at his shirt. With a nod and glance at the other two boys, hovering at a safe distance, Brett grins and pats Lindsey’s hand again.

“Keep out of trouble then. Go make whoopee elsewhere.” That said, he turns and resumes leading Lindsey back home, listening intently as the boys hoof it, hissing at each other, off to harass some other lady. Brett quickly looks towards Lindsey but she just grins at him. “You okay?”

“Just Jake,” she laughs, bumping against his side and pulling him back before he could walk into a lamp pole. “Thanks, they’re right drugstore cowboys! Glad you’re here at least.”

Brett simply nods. “Make ‘em gimps next time.” He promptly receives a light smack on the arm. “What? A couple broken bones should fix ‘em up.”

“They’re just a couple a’ idiots, leave ‘em be, they’ll learn their lesson when they mess with a moll, her man will teach them.” She brightens up immediately, clicking her heels on the flagstone. “Next time, you say?”

He gives a nod before quietly asking, “If that’s alright with you?”

“Pos-i-lute-ly!” Lindsey doesn’t once unhook her arm from his, leading the way. Brett takes her satchel from her, even as she sighs and rolls her eyes, but is more than happy to chatter and ask about his time during the war as they walk.

She shows up on his doorstep late in the night a month later.

“Yes?” he begins, only to step aside as she bustles past.

“I decided you’re coming to live with me,” Lindsey announces, traipsing across his wooden floor, hair soaking wet beneath her hat. He glances outside but it’s a cloudless night.

Brett follows after Lindsey into his bedroom. “Lay off it, what’re you on about?” She hums, removes her bonnet, and hangs it on the bedpost. He steps closer and asks, “No, seriously, what’s happening?”

“I just told you.” That said, she opens his drawers and starts going through his clothes.

Brett ruffles his metaphorical fur and tries to take his shirts from her hands. “That’s not an answer. Why? What happened?”

“Nothing, nothing, I just…” She turns around with a taut smile. “It’d be nice to have another werewolf with me.” Her lips waver and her reddened eyes dart away from his as she sets the clothes on the bed. Brett breathes through his nose and frowns at the rotten scent underlying her sweet smell. She flits over to his bedside table and picks up a picture frame. Brett eyes the bruise on her neck.

He grabs Lindsey’s hands when she turns around, doesn’t fail to notice the way she jumps at his proximity. Brett eases the frame out of her fingers and doesn’t let go when she tries pulling away. He spots small crescents dug into her arms and releases his breath slowly. She just smells… clean and afraid. “Talk to me,” he says with a tilt of his head, “what’s eating you?” When Brett sits on the edge of his bed, she remains standing, staring down at his hands. Her own begin to tremble and Lindsey squeezes Brett’s fingers until it stops. He waits patiently, electric light buzzing overhead, an automobile rolling past outside. It gets to the point that Brett thinks she either didn’t hear or isn’t going to answer but then she opens her mouth.

“I killed someone.”

“Oh.”

She shuffles on her feet.

“Brett, I killed someone.”

“I heard.”

“I, uh, I want to show you.”

“You haven’t told anyone else?”

A shake of her head.

“I came straight here… he’s still in my house.”

“I can help.”

Lindsey sags in relief and bows. Brett leans forward and holds her hands to his mouth, leaving a soft kiss on her knuckles and looking up to see tears in her eyes. He smiles and lifts an arm, leaves it hovering in the air. There’s no hesitation as she moves into the hand, cheek in his palm, and lets Brett pull her down to press lips to her forehead.

“I can help, but you need to tell me what happened.” He leans back with a smile and watches as she raises a hand to wipe at the tears on her face.

“Why are you so nice,” she says, sniffling and adding on, “why is everyone in this city such an asshole?”

With a short laugh, Brett asks, “Do you want something to drink?”

“Hooch.” Brett gives her a look, frowning, but Lindsey nods resolutely. “Please.”

“Okay then, but out here.” She gives in with another nod and lets Brett lead her into the living room. Lindsey plops down into the seat in the corner, giving her thanks when Brett sets a handkerchief in her lap. It’s not until he comes back with a cold bottle of alcohol that he asks, “So, what happened?”

“I was called back to the hospital. Our new nurse didn’t show up for her shift, so I had to take over for the early night. I finished at midnight and had to walk home…”

“Bearcat!”

Lindsey stumbles and whips her head around, spotting only one of the men this time. With a harrumph, she spins on her heels and keeps walking, pace quickened. His footsteps scurry behind her, closer and closer until fingers snatch hold of her elbow. Lindsey yanks herself free and hears a ridiculing laugh over her shoulder.

“C’mon, doll, don’t be prudish.”

“Go home, Airedale,” she huffs.

“Oof, harsh, c’mon.” She’s dragged to a halt by the hand wrapped in the lapel of her coat. When Lindsey turns to glare at the man, he immediately moves into her space. Hand on her waist, she can smell the liquor on his breath as he whispers, “You don’t need no Father Time, I’ll take good care of you, make you the right woman.”

“I don’t- stop, I don’t need nothin’ from ya.”

The wicked grin on his face makes her heart beat faster, head tucked down as she keeps her hand on his chest, holding him at bay. “Course you do, doll, aren’t you glad I’m here to look after ya? No one’s gonna want a Rock of Ages, take what you can get, and I’ve got you.” He pops the clasp on her coat, Lindsey jumps, takes a couple stumbling steps, and ends up being shoved against a brick wall. She wheezes, breath knocked out of her, and turns away when lips get too close to hers. “It’s okay, baby doll, don’t worry, I’ll treat you like an angel.”

Taking in a deep breath, she meets his gaze and says, “If you don’t get away from me, I’ll scream.”

“Oh, come now, don’t do that, you’ll ruin our fun.” The hand on her waist slips under her coat to tug at the elastic of her skirt. Fingers curl over her chest.

She slaps him.

He goes stumbling back with a yelp.

Lindsey takes a couple rapid steps away from him, bunches her skirt up, and starts running.

“Oh, we playing, now, huh?” She doesn’t stop, not once, not with the sound of boots right behind her as he shouts, “I’mma comin’!”

She’s grateful when they start to fade, when she no longer hears his hollers and crows. Looping around the park, she heads towards her house. Lindsey arrives red-faced and breathing heavy, hands shaking when she gets out her key and struggles to put it in the lock.

It’s only once she slams the door shut behind herself and leans against it, panting and whimpering, that she closes her eyes. Forehead against chilled wood, she curls her fingers against her chest, tries to get rid of the phantom touches still lingering there. Lindsey yanks her coat off and hangs it up, immediately heading towards the washroom. She leaves her heels discarded on the floor, tosses her satchel onto the couch, and removes the cap from her head to let her hair out.

She starts a fire to heat the water and undresses whilst it warms; stockings, skirt, shirt, camisole, corset, bandeau, bloomers.

Lindsey immediately gets into the tin tub as soon as the last article is removed, doesn’t care that the water is barely lukewarm. She shivers when it cascades down her face and body, running fingers through her hair as she picks up a cloth to wash. Water gets in her ears and she leaves it there, relaxing in the muffled sounds of the water. The next splash of water warms her skin and she can’t help but sigh and lean back, eyes closed, facing the ceiling.

A hand yanks on her hair, keeping her neck bent at an awkward angle, and her eyes snap open.

The man from before grins down at her. “Found you,” he sing-songs. Lindsey immediately covers herself up as best she can with her arms, turning her head away and curling up.

“Get out,” she hisses. She squirms away with a wince at the tug on her scalp when fingers trace over her stomach and slaps at his hand. “I mean it, beat it.”

“Don’t play ‘round,” he coos. As soon as the hand in her hair leaves, Lindsey scrambles to the far end of the bath and grabs her towel from the wall. When she stands, she pauses, staring at him, blocking her way to the door. He just holds his hands out with a grin. “C’mere, I don’t bite.”

“I do,” she responds. The fire crackles on her right and she wonders if she can shove him into it or burn him a little.

“Ooh, feisty, huh? Little bearcat.” Lindsey huffs and wraps her towel further around herself. She tries holding her ground when he approaches only to end up shoved against the tiled wall behind herself. She braces an arm against his chest, keeps him back, and grabs at the wrist of the hand trying to sneak underneath the towel. “Wow, you’re strong,” he remarks.

She’s about to snap something back at him when his free hand grabs the back of her thigh and lifts. Lindsey jolts and her hand shoots out for balance. Both hands free, he picks her up and pins Lindsey to the wall.

She wraps her hand around the back of his neck, turns her head away, and hisses, “Last chance, get away from me, put me down.”

“No way, I’ve dreamed of having you like this for ages.”

Lindsey scowls. She thrashes when teeth land on her neck and freezes as her towel is yanked away entirely. Fingers scrape over her leg. She tosses her head and knocks her chin against his nose.

He bites her neck.

Lindsey shoves him so hard he slams against the sink with a grimace.

“GET OUT!” she shrieks, leaning against the wall for support, wheezing. He startles, staring at her, eyes wide, still gripping onto the ceramic. “Out, OUT! My house, get OUT of my HOUSE!” She tries to fight the tears in her eyes and fails when they run down her cheeks. She picks up her towel and quickly pulls it around herself.

“What the fuck, what’s wrong with you?” Lindsey growls and the man backs off immediately. She follows his gaze and reaches a hand up, running over her wet hair, feeling her ears flat against her scalp. “Fucking… freak, you are!”

She loses it.

Snarls make her throat raw and her ears ring with his cries as teeth sink into flesh. Skin gives way and scarlet sprays her arms and torso, dripping down onto the bathmat. He falls silent when she tears out his throat, eyes wide and fingernails digging into her arms as claws shred him to pieces.

It’s only when his body lays in a number of pieces on the floor that Lindsey drops his head and steps back. Breathing raggedly, she cries at the pain in her arms when she grabs the edge of the bathtub, clambering in with oversized arms and half-changed limbs. Forehead to chilly tin, Lindsey takes in long breaths, her ribs shuddering as she keeps her eyes closed. She hears every bone snap back into place as she returns to a normal human form.

She’s sweating by the time she pours heated water over herself, washing away the red smears. Her skin is raw red when she finally runs out of water and extinguishes the fire. She forgoes the blood-splattered towel and tiptoes out of the washroom.

She redresses upstairs, heedless of her dripping hair, slips on her shoes, and wraps her coat around herself.

Only one thought on her mind.

Pack will make it better, pack will help, pack always helps, pack is safe, keep me safe, pack pack pack…

Lindsey cooks whilst Brett cleans the washroom as the phonograph plays one of her favourite tracks, ears twitching atop her head. She can no longer smell blood or the acrid stench of fear, replaced with pasta and the scent of the limes Brett took with him. He exits the room with two sacks in hand, says he will be back in ten minutes, and leaves through the back door. Lindsey glances at the washroom, pleased to find it spotless, towel and bath mat removed.

He returns to Lindsey setting down bowls of food at the counter. Kicking his shoes off, Brett sits down beside her and picks up his fork, noticing the way she’s watching him closely.

“Do you like it?” she asks as soon as he puts in the first mouthful.

Brett tries to give her a look, still chewing. Soon as he swallows, he says, “Let me eat it first, I know I’m an Anthirio but I can’t wolf it down.” It’s worth it for Lindsey’s chuckle. “It’s good. You really didn’t have to make me anything; I’ve already had dinner.”

“I didn’t want to leave you out,” she reasons with a shrug as she eats.

“Washroom is clean, not a trace of anything.” Lindsey hums and doesn’t add anything to it. “Body’s disposed of, no way to trace it back to you. You’re safe.” Another hum. He’s about to say something else when there’s a knock at the door. She sets down her fork and finishes chewing, hurrying over to the front door, brushing her ears away.

She pulls it open and is met with a pair of police officers. Swallowing her food, Lindsey quickly grins and says, “Hello, can I help you?”

“Miss Washburn?” She nods. “We received a noise complaint, a neighbour overheard screaming?”

“Oh, uhm, which neighbour?” The man gestures to the building on the right. “Oh, of course, uh-”

She twitches at the feeling of a warm body behind hers, stiffens when an arm curls around her shoulders and drags her tight against his chest. Brett just grins and says, “Sorry, officers, that was a fault on my behalf.”

“Pardon?”

“I, haha, apologies, Lindsey is a bit loud.”

She balks at him, eyes wide.

“Oh,” one of the men says, glancing away from the two.

“We’ll be sure to keep it down.”

The older of the officers gives a firm nod. “Do. Well, have a good night, Sir, Ma’am.”

“You too… Officer Cadel, Officer Hendricks.” With a tip of their hats, they step back and move towards their automobile. Brett closes the door.

Lindsey smacks his arm and he just grins. “What?”

“That was- That- You- You’re horrible!”

“Hey, it made them leave, didn’t it?”

“Horrible!” she stresses, even with a grin on her face. She spins on her heels and returns to her bowl of pasta, a laugh rumbling in her throat. Brett notices the way she steps in time with the record and trails after her.

Lindsey does the dishes, says she wants them done a certain way, and tells him to shoo as her ears pop out. Brett ends up going through her record collection, tail swaying on the floor. He receives a very displeased, “Hey!” when he switches out the current record for one of his favourites and can only shrug when she glares. The look disappears when the song starts up and Brett can hear her tapping her feet to it. He opens his suitcase and withdraws his throw, draping it over the back of the couch. He puts a picture frame with the others on the end table and sets a coaster beside it. Lindsey bustles past, says she will be back in a minute, and bounces up the stairs. Whilst she’s busy, Brett places his second pair of shoes by the front door, retrieves his pajamas, and changes in the washroom.

When he exits, he finds Lindsey running fingers over the throw he brought with him. She steps away with a smile and wraps her negligee tighter around herself with perked ears. “Sleep?”

“Yes, it’s late, I know you have work in the morning.” Brett wanders over to the couch.

Lindsey shakes her head. “They let me take the day off because of last night.” She spins on her heels, moving upstairs

“Goodnight,” Brett says. Lindsey pauses on the staircase and looks at him with a frown. Brett simply sits down on the couch and moves the pillows around to make himself comfortable.

“Brett,” she begins, waiting until he hums and looks up at her, “sleep?”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

“Yes, but… I have a double bed.”

Brett falls silent for a moment. He glances over at the kitchen before looking back at Lindsey and asking, “Are you certain? I don’t want to impose.”

Lindsey leans on the staircase banister and repeats, “I have a double bed. It’s comfier than the couch.”

“I’m fine with the couch.”

“I’m not.”

“Are you sure? After what just happened…”

Her ears turn backwards momentarily before she straightens up. “That’s why I’d like you with me, to keep me safe.” Brett almost tries arguing the point but he hears a faint whine on her exhale and she pats her chest until it fades. After receiving no response, she lowers her gaze and shakes her head. “It’s okay, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“I’m coming,” Brett says as he stands. Lindsey casts him a glowing grin and hurries up the stairs two at a time. He can’t help but chuckle as he removes the record from the gramophone.

He knocks before entering her bedroom, hearing a small, “Come in,” as he pushes the door open. Lindsey’s busy fiddling with hanging her negligee on a hook, blue nightgown hanging down to her calves. Brett shuts the door gently, waiting until Lindsey finally sighs and hops into bed. “You can have that side, I like the morning sun,” she says, gesturing to the other half. Brett still hovers with a hand resting on the sheets. Lindsey hunkers down and quirks an eyebrow at him. “Go on, it’s not going to eat you alive.”

“You might,” he teases. She bares her teeth in response as the sheets swish with her tail. Brett makes sure to keep to the far edge of the bed when he settles down. “Goodnight,” he says once again, eyes closed as he rolls and puts his back to her.

“Goodnight,” Lindsey mumbles in response with a yawn.

Distantly, he hears a clock chiming the early morning hour. Before he can fall asleep, the bed shifts and Brett hums, looking over his shoulder. Lindsey presses her head to his shoulder and tucks against his backside. When she doesn’t say anything, Brett shrugs mentally and turns his face into his pillow. He doesn’t mention it when he awakens in the morning with Lindsey curled into his arms, fingers wrapped in his pajama fabric, face nestled against his chest.

Loud, borderline deafening. Smelly, borderline headache-inducing. Hot, borderline boiling.

Brett loves it.

Judging by the grin on Lindsey’s face as she takes the hand of her new friend and kicks her feet, she’s loving it too. He waves to the tender on the other side of the bar, ordering a Gin Rickey for himself and a Mary Pickford. Brett checks for the third time that night and spots the man still hanging by the staff-only door, dark circles cover his eyes, a liquor-less drink in hand.

Brett hands over the correct change to the bartender when he receives his order, picking the two glasses up and crossing the dancefloor. Lindsey pauses upon spotting him, giving one of her friends a smile and wiggle of her fingers as she meets him halfway to accept the drink. He leans close to ask, “Having fun?”

“I’m the swankiest flapper there is,” she crows, holding her drink overhead as she slips between the dancers. He follows after Lindsey until she plops down in a seat at the edge of the room and sets her drink on the table. “You enjoying yourself?”

“Definitely,” he says, taking a couple sips from his glass.

“We have to come back here sometime, I can smell another werewolf somewhere.”

“I think it might be the guy hanging out over by the door next to the bar.” She leans back in her chair, straining to see him. “Can’t tell, not close enough, but his behaviour is unusual.”

Lindsey gives a nod and leans down to fix up her stockings. One of the men passing by pauses to gaze at her, both eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. He stops and immediately looks away upon meeting Brett’s warning stare. He sips at his drink and nudges at Lindsey’s shin with his foot. She casts him a grin and returns the gesture, mindful of her pointed shoes.

“How’s my makeup?” she asks and leans over the table towards him, eyes closed.

Brett spends a good few seconds inspecting her face before reaching out to poke her nose. “Perfect as always.” A pleased smile on her face, Lindsey picks up her drink and sniffs at it cautiously. Brett doesn’t call her out on it; she’s most likely used to checking drinks for spiking. She downs her Pickford and pushes the glass to the middle of the table, back of hand against her mouth when she hiccups.

“May I take your glasses?”

Brett lifts his head to meet the girl with a smile and responds, “Of course.” She picks up Lindsey’s empty margarita glass and pauses as she’s about to leave, staring between him and the woman to his right. He catches the tail-end of a gasp from beside himself and glances over at Lindsey. She’s got her eyes locked onto the snake charmer, lips parted.

Brett inhales through his nose and oh.

“Well, hello,” he greets, leaning back in his seat to smile at the young girl. Her gaze darts back and forth, mouth open with nothing coming out. “It’s okay, shh, secrets here. You Jake?”

“I’m…” She hesitates and glances over her shoulder at the bar.

Brett frowns; she still looks like a mere babe. What’s a babe doing working here? Why’s she not in class? What’s she doing being bitten barely out of school? The quirk of his lips turn down and he reaches out, offering. She swaps the glass to her left hand, places the other in his, and watches as Brett kisses the back of it. “You got bit too young, I’m sorry, doll.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” She waves him off with a forced smile, her eyes empty.

Lindsey stands up and the girl steps aside to make room for her only to be enveloped in a hug. “It’s okay, darl’, whatever egg got you will pay.”

There’s a hint of bitter laughter as she pats Lindsey’s back until she’s released. “He’s already paid, worry not ‘bout me. You havin’ a good night?”

“Right darb!” Lindsey crows as Brett salutes her with his drink.

The girl gives a nod and says, “I have to go, I have another ten on the clock.”

“Don’t let us hold you down, but we will most likely still be here when you finish your shift. Feel free to come bother us.”

“Okay,” she replies, glass in hand as she turns and collects another empty old fashioned and moves back to the bar.

Brett’s eyes track her as she hurries towards the staff door. He squints at the man waiting there warily until the girl simply brushes against his side, bumping shoulders, and slips past him into the room. The man’s eyes follow her, expression blank. Hm. Friends perhaps. An unfamiliar patron steps forward to try to enter the room only for the stranger to hold an arm out, barring his way, lips moving, too far away for Brett to hear. Whatever he says is enough to deter the man from following the girl into the back rooms.

“We’re not alone anymore,” Lindsey says, voice softer than it has been all night. Brett can’t help but smile at her; seems like they’ll have to come back here frequently.

When she wanders back, announcing that her shift is over, Lindsey grabs the girl by the hand and ushers her away from the tables, into the middle of the room. There’s a faint smile on her face, eyes darting around, one of the youngest people in the room. Brett knows she’s safest with Lindsey teaching her the Charleston and reaching out to play with the beads around her neck.

He doesn’t think much of it when the stranger who lingered around the staff door wanders over and sits down in the seat opposite Brett. With a sniff at the air, it confirms his suspicions. He has his eyes on Lindsey and the other girl. Brett would have accused him of being the one to bite the young girl - she looks around sixteen - but he’s not Genetic.

“A friend?” Brett asks, gesturing to the girl dancing with Lindsey.

He nods with a curt, “Yes. She werewolf as well?” Brett nods. “You bit her?”

Brett shakes his head and sips at his drink. “No, born Anthirio.”

“Anthirio…” the man mumbles to himself. Brett casts him a curious look but he doesn’t give anything away. “You live in the area?”

“West side, up north, it’s quite an ankle but she loves the atmosphere here. You?”

“I live wherever I want to stay the night.”

“Lone wolf,” Brett states, “yet this girl?”

He leans back in his seat and takes a drink of his soda. “Found her half crazy without a pack. I’m teaching her to control herself during the full moon but she likes being by herself mostly.”

With a downwards tilt of his lips, Brett asks, “How old was she?”

“Barely fourteen, last year, she’s still new.”

“I can teach her,” he offers.

“No,” he quickly says, “sorry, but we’ve bonded.”

Brett’s face splits into a grin and he leans over to clap the other man on the shoulder, heedless of the small twitch he receives in response. “Pack, huh? Don’t lose it.” Putting down his empty glass, he adds on, “I’m Brett, my doll there is Lindsey.”

“Jeremy,” he says in kind. When Brett gestures to the flappers, he cautiously adds on, “Autumn.”

Brett’s about to ask further questions when Jeremy stiffens, head upright. He follows his line of sight and spots Autumn being dragged away from Lindsey by a flashy young man, arm looping around her waist and holding her close even as she leans back. Brett squints but doesn’t have to worry for long when Lindsey worms her way between the two of them, back turned to the man, and herds the younger girl away from trouble, back to the dancers.

A screech tears through the room, startling the band enough that they fall still. Jeremy and Brett are both on their feet a second later, eyes scanning the crowd. Brett spots the pushy man rushing to the far side of the hall as Lindsey leads Autumn to the powder room. Jeremy sees them and hurries to follow the girls, leaving Brett to track down the assumed perpetrator.

He finds the man laughing with friends beside the bar, binning his cigarette. Brett wraps fingers around the back of his neck and yanks, ignoring the vocal protests as he tosses the man against the back door. He tumbles out into the cool air and lands on his ass.

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” one of the man’s friends asks.

Brett wheels around to meet the duo with a scowl. “You lot stay inside, I only have beef with him. If you want I’ll make you all gimps.” There’s a wary moment where the three men look around amongst themselves before the two friends head back to their drinks.

“Cowards!” Brett whips around to the man of the hour, now standing on wobbly legs, and slams his elbow into his ribs. He falls back against the brick wall opposite the alley, a yelp to go with it. “Fuck, what’s with you? I don’t know who you are!”

“I saw what you did to that girl, my friend, I saw.”

The man’s face drains of colour. “Look, she stomped on my foot, was only fair!”

“Fair?” Brett stresses, giving his shoulders another rough push. “What’s fair is that you hurt her and now I get to fuck you up.”

“Hey, I’m sure her ear’s fine!”

Brett squints at him. What’d he do to Autumn’s ear? As if on cue, the door to the Speakeasy slams open. Brett wheels around to see Jeremy standing there, emotionless, fists curled at his sides, eyes hidden.

“He’s still alive,” Jeremy states, something like disappointment dripping from his voice. Brett grunts and turns back in time to watch the man attempt to make a run for it. He gets a few yards away before Jeremy slams him into the wall. Brett hovers beside him, watching closely. “Not for long.”

“Hey, hey, look, I’ll pay for her medical bills, whatever you need!”

“How’s she?” Brett asks slowly.

“Cigarette in her ear, she’s freaking out because she can’t hear, Lindsey says she’s taking her back to her place - take me there after I’m finished here.”

The man whimpers and Brett snarls, Jeremy joining in. “Your pack, you get first dibs.”

With a huff, Jeremy corrects him, “First and last.”

The man’s screams go unheard, quickly silenced with a punch hard enough to damage his vocal chords. Brett blocks the back door of the Speakeasy and keeps his ears perked for signs of the authorities, ignoring the wheezes and scrabbling going on to his right. Blood curls in his nostrils and when he looks back over, he can barely recognise the man’s face beneath the scarlet lines and the missing jaw.

Good.

There’s a moment where it calms down, where Brett can only hear two heartbeats - his own and Jeremy’s - and he knows it’s finished. Footsteps hurry to his side, heavy breath matching, and Brett raises an arm, lets Jeremy curl hands around it and tug him closer.

“Your friend better know what she’s doing,” he warns, leaning into his personal space. Brett can’t see his eyes past the smoked spectacles but he can smell the threat beneath his words, the seriousness.

He’s more impressed than afraid.

“She’s a nurse, she knows what she’s doing,” he informs, resting a hand over one of his. He feels it shaking under his palm and squeezes, taking a step away from the building. “I’ll take you to our place. You should remove your bloodied jacket before it arouses suspicions.”

Jeremy withdraws and is already removing the article as he moves towards the lifeless road. “Let’s go.”

Jeremy and Autumn both frown at the woven strings he gives them right before they split, an eyebrow quirked, asking what they’re for. Brett blinks slowly, looking between them both, only to find they’re legitimately confused.

“Oh, you have so much to learn…”

Autumn jumps at the sound of the door being slammed open and shut, blinking at the sight of Jeremy as he shrugs his jacket off and dumps it on the couch. He doesn’t take a seat, doesn’t even move into the bedroom to change, simply paces back and forth a couple times.

“…Jeremy, what?” she asks, glancing at him, turning her head so her good ear is facing him.

“I went to a dog fight,” he explains, “wanted to see if I could, could steal a dog from them, save it, set them all free, yes?”

Autumn bookmarks her page and sets the novel down in her lap. “Yeah?” Her ears slide out a moment later, allowing her to hear better.

“They had another- a wolf in there, a werewolf.” He rubs fingers under his spectacles and ceases pacing, standing nearby the window, curtains drawn. “And they were forcing him to fight dogs. He knew I was there and jumped at the cage and started whining and they just shocked him and dragged him off and-”

“…I don’t want to hear this,” Autumn says quietly. Jeremy nods. He doesn’t bring it up, even as he takes slow, deep breaths. He perks up at the sound of scratching at the glass, looks over at the window, and pulls the curtains back. Autumn goes, “Oh.”

“You didn’t hear?” Jeremy asks as he slides the window up and lets the creature inside. The fossa falls to the floor, eyes quickly landing on Autumn, and scampers over to her. She pulls her book further into her lap right as Alfredo shifts, sitting in front of her, pulling his mask out from seemingly nowhere. She conveniently blocks Alfredo’s lower half from view with the novel.

“What is- what are you reading, princess?” Jeremy holds back the urge to roll his eyes. Autumn simply taps at the title on the book for Alfredo to read. “As I Lay Dying - my goodest!”

Jeremy walks past them towards the kitchen, asking, “You’re staying the night?”

“I like to watch as my snake charmer crawls into the dreamland.” Autumn mostly ignores Alfredo. She doesn’t even blink when a fossa clambers onto the couch beside her and lies on her tail. The rumbling noise that comes from it a moment later is an almost-purr, choked and broken, like it’s rattling through a shattered vase.

Jeremy doesn’t think twice of the officer looking at them, simply keeps his arm hooked with Autumn’s and steps closer to the store side of the footpath. There’s a small giggle hanging in the air and Autumn reaches behind, tugging at Alfredo’s shirt. Jeremy nods at the man as he goes but otherwise doesn’t interact with him, head turned forwards, eyes hidden behind tinted spectacles.

A sharp inhale from his left. Jeremy breathes through his nose but can’t smell anything over the strong perfume store to his right. Autumn walks on, uninterested, or maybe just oblivious. Alfredo intentionally leans into their space, walking exactly in sync, chin resting on Autumn’s shoulder at an awkward angle.

“Stop!” Jeremy immediately comes to a halt, Autumn blinking in confusion at the sudden halt and Alfredo attempting to wiggle between them. “Don’t move, stay right there!”

Jeremy holds his free hand up and slowly turns around. The man wields his pistol, staring at them. Jeremy feels Autumn stiffen up beside him upon seeing the weapon and he finds he cannot soothe her apprehension when he rests his hand on hers. He attempts to grab Alfredo, trying to convey urgency, but he only receives a high-pitched laugh as Alfredo hunches over to slide under their joined arms. It’s not until Alfredo’s eye lands on the officer that they wriggle forward and stand up.

“Ah, mister police ma’am!” He can’t see Alfredo’s mouth moving, hidden behind the blank mask.

Jeremy quickly ushers Autumn towards Alfredo and steps before the officer, his gun wavering in his grip as he keeps his distance. Holding both hands up, Jeremy tilts his head and says, “I apologise for my cousin, sir. They- he hasn’t been the same after the war.” He glances back and sees Autumn hovering in front of Alfredo, ignoring the fingers playing with her hair. However, when he looks back at the man, his gun is raised completely.

“You three stay there, don’t move, nothing.”

“You can’t do the not make me- make me not move,” Alfredo laughs. Jeremy tries to glare but Alfredo isn’t even looking at him. “I move free, free like the Thai winds in the children’s ears.” He can only stare, trying for disapproving, but Jeremy finds himself being ignored completely. Autumn looks over at the officer and shrinks back from him when he steps closer, her shoulder against Alfredo’s side.

“No. Moving,” he reiterates.

“We don’t-”

“Li- little government man,” Alfredo taunts, faintly muffled, “try to be big fat potato sir.”

Blinking, the policeman asks, “What?”

“He don’t know I can go pe-pew pew.” Pointing a finger at the man, Alfredo imitates gunfire, only stopping when Jeremy firmly shoves the offending arm down.

“Officer, I’m sorry for him-”

“I’m going to need you to come with me to the precinct, all three of you.” Jeremy opens his mouth, keeps his hands raised, but the man cocks his gun and commands, “Now.”

Autumn whines, high in the back of her throat. Alfredo’s head twitches towards her before snapping back to the officer. “Now look, puny leather cowboy detective, you upset my- my princess of boyses’s little pinkies.” Jeremy hears the small rumble in Alfredo’s chest and twists on the balls of his feet to plant a hand on the middle of their chest. It does nothing to make the noise stop. Alfredo takes a daring step towards the officer, even with Jeremy’s hand in the way, and sings, “I eat your hair for the- the try to fuck with us.”

“Are you delusional?”

“Yes, yes, he is.”

Alfredo leers, taking a larger step forward. Jeremy stares at Autumn as she falls behind Alfredo. He forgets how Alfredo gets when mad, vibrating and leaning over him towards the human.

The gun fires.

Even Autumn flinches at the noise.

Alfredo crumples.

Jeremy swings around and grabs the man by the arm. The gun clatters to the floor a second after he snaps his wrist, a shrill scream following. As much as he thrashes, Jeremy yanks him to the side and kicks his legs out from beneath him, shoving the officer to the floor. He drops onto his chest knees-first, knocking his breath from his lungs completely.

Jeremy sees the ceramic mask sitting shattered on the pavement, spattered in crimson. His eyes snap over to Autumn, fingers curled in Alfredo’s shirt, yanking and tugging them both towards a nearby alcove. “Alfredo? Autumn?”

“Here,” Autumn shouts, a little too loud, but she’s breathing heavy and her fingers are stained red, shaking. She stumbles, trying to hold Alfredo’s weight, before just dropping to the ground completely. “Alfredo? Alfredo,” she says, trying to tug at scrabbling hands, “where’d he shoot you?” The most disconcerting thing is Alfredo doesn’t answer, exhaling whines and fingers sliding over wet-skin, still trickling blood. She unwinds the scarf from her neck. “Let me do it.”

Instead of answering her, Alfredo mutters, words severely slurred, “Noys- no seyes.”

“He got your eye?” A shake of their head. “Where’d he get you, c’mon, Alfredo, let me see.”

“Wou sream.”

As if on cue, the police officer shrieks once before being silenced.

“I screamed? When?”

Alfredo gives another shake and swallows. “Nu scream, no eyz.” Autumn pushes Alfredo’s head back, noting the hands still clutching at half of their face, red smudged across the nose and eye. She wipes at dripping blood running rivulets down Alfredo’s arms and frowns.

“Can I see? Wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“No ees, my prinesuss.” She can’t even be bothered rolling her eyes at the nickname, simply starts tugging at Alfredo’s arms again, ignoring the weak verbal protests. Until Alfredo heaves a sigh and says slower, “No cream, ples my nocesweatli’lgurlbi.”

“No scream, I’ve seen blood before.”

Alfredo laughs, fluid caught in the throat making it sound like a strange warble. She gently starts prying away shaky, elongated fingers, already expecting the worst.

A gorey hole stares back at her, cracked teeth moving against the fleshy wall, pieces of white and silver peeking through gaps. Autumn wipes at the smears of blood above the bullet wound, frowning when the darker lines won’t disappear. It takes her a moment to realise it’s a symbol, tattooed into skin, unable to heal. A two-pronged diamond, sliced through the middle, perched atop a tripod…

She has no idea what it means.

The lines are wobbly, like whoever did it had a shaky hand, or maybe Alfredo was shaking.

The skin folds over the eye in a way that makes the socket look hollow, empty. Alfredo’s one working eye squints at her, blinking, awaiting a reaction.

Clearing her throat, Autumn asks, “Where’s the bullet?” Alfredo perks up at that, leaning towards her. Not getting the point, Autumn finds her hand being grabbed and pulled forwards. She opens her fingers in time for shards of broken metal and pieces of what she assumes were once teeth to be spat into her palm. Alfredo’s head tilts back with a broken smile, teary-eyed, blood staining the sclera pink. “Thanks.” She tips the fragments onto the pavement, unable to hear the way they tinkle.

Autumn simply returns to cleaning up the blood, getting Alfredo to look at the sky. “Did you swallow any blood?” A nod. She pulls her hands back to instruct, “Spit it out on the ground.”

Alfredo’s mouth opens. A decent pool of red spills out over puffy lips, dribbling down onto their already stained shirt. Autumn gingerly presses the scarf to the blood and wipes a majority of it away as Alfredo pants, jaw hanging, tongue poking through to appear on the other side of the gaping bullet hole.

Alfredo jumps at a noise Autumn doesn’t hear and looks up to see Jeremy staring down at them. His jaw tightens, eyes locked onto Alfredo’s face. Autumn quickly says, “Alfredo’s mask broke, we need another one, soon.” Alfredo nods and blinks up at the man.

Jeremy glances behind himself, at the drain he shoved the officer’s body down, before looking back at the duo and nodding. “We need to get moving; someone probably heard that and are coming to investigate.”

“Can you walk?” Autumn asks.

“My walky-feetsy prongs are not energy feels with face plate flesh.” As if to prove a point, Alfredo stands up without help, though they remain hunched, face turned down, hiding in the few shadows the street lamps provide, weak light bulbs humming within.

Jeremy removes his cap, places it on Alfredo’s head instead, and starts leading the way back to their small townhouse, constantly checking over his shoulder to see if they’re keeping pace. Autumn hovers close beside Alfredo. Just when they’re passing the hospital, Alfredo shuffles closer and hooks an arm with Autumn’s, grabbing for her hand.

“Walk you home, left gentleman I am, ah!”

Slowing down to walk closer to them, Jeremy states, “A good boy.” Autumn feels the way Alfredo buzzes excitedly, chest rattling, even as blood dribbles from the gash, dropping to the pavement. Jeremy glances at the dark clouds, illuminated by a sliver of moon, and hopes it rains soon to wash the blood away.

The first thing Jeremy says when they get home and usher Alfredo to the washroom is, “Why the hell is that tattoo there?”

“I don’t know what it means,” Autumn admits.

“It’s a brand,” Jeremy explains, moving to the window and peering through the blinds. When he turns back around, back straight, he states, “I’m going to track down whoever did that and I’m going to hurt them… a lot.”

“Okay.”

It’s not until decades later that Jeremy shows up in Autumn’s house and announces, “I have a job for you.”

She doesn’t look away from the television, notepad in hand, writing down notes from the news reporter. “Yeah?”

“How much do you know about computers? Security cameras?”

“A little, why?”

“The Humane Labs and Research are hiring a general technician, training included, for computing and security.”

“Okay, why?”

Jeremy steps in front of the television, blocking the subtitling, and says lowly, a growl under his words, “They’re taking werewolves and doing experiments on them. They have another guy in there. I’m posing as a guard and I’m going to break him out, but I need you to turn off their cameras for a while.” She looks unconvinced, tapping her pencil on the paper. Then Jeremy says, “They’re the ones who screwed up Alfredo.”

“…I’m in.”

#fake chop #fake pine 7 #cow chop #sugar pine 7 #brett hundley #lindsey washburn #autumn farrell #jeremy sauder #sp7 alfredo #writing #anthirio #werewolf au #tw: gore #tw: violence #YEAH OOPS UHM I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS???#someone needs to stop me pls and thanks #1910s #1920s #1930s

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