#i also am a year behind on the life series. i think the most recent one i've seen is double | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iouinotes · 4 months

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Heroic Betrayal | Luke Castellan (part 1)

SPOILER FOR THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS SERIES AND THE BOOKS

pairing: Luke Castellan x female!reader

show: Percy Jackson and the Olympians

warnings: dark!character, betrayal, implied sexual content, heavy angst, kidnapping

word count: 5,8k

summary: When Luke switches to the dark side, he tries everything possible to win you for him.

a/n: so as the show comes to an end (dont cry dont cry dont cry), I thought I would finally post this :)))

read part 2 here

"I'll find you!" his voice echoes through the forest, my laughter much louder than I intend to. But that´s just how it always goes. It's our own little tradition.

Every year when the camp starts again and we meet after the holidays passed, we play hide and seek in the dangerous forest of the half-blood camp. The creatures usually don't come across our path, in recent years it has rarely happened, that we actually had to defend ourselves against them.

Once it was an angry dryad, who threw branches at me (she had a crush on Luke and wanted revenge, but since I could understand her feelings and felt sad for her, we sorted it out).

Another time we were spotted by some camp members, who made fun of us, but Luke must have said something to them later, because we haven't been bothered by these troublemakers since.

It is always the same pattern, but each time there is still something special about it. We have grown, became more mature (I think), and have more and more experience about the struggles in life.

So being able to just let go for a few moments and being completely alone with him is probably the best thing to keep myself sane (even if he drives me a little bit crazy with the love I hold for him).

But a lot has changed recently.

It all started when rumors spread, that Zeus' lightning bolt had been stolen by Poseidon's son. And then the most supportive, bravest, sassy kid in the world showed up here. Percy Jackson. Ever since I met him, even though it's not his fault, there's been war going on. The gods are angry, the monster attacks became worse and again, rumors about the oldest, most powerful titan Kronos reached the camp.

It scared and frightened many people, including me. That's why we've been training harder and stay awake, even when the stars are shining, so that we can prepare for any catastrophe. To be able to fight.

My mother is the goddess Demeter, my father a simple man. I adore them both, even though my mother isn't one of my closest contacts. But I never really held that against her, because at least she decided to acknowledge me as her daughter. After all, it's a privilege that not everyone gets. My siblings and friends at camp are important to me, but the world is changing and so is everything around it.

The only stability I have left is my boyfriend Luke.

If I had to rely on one person in the whole world (and by that I also mean the underworld), it would be him.

He's been my best friend since I arrived at this camp. We've been together through ups and downs, I know every side of him and he knows everything about me too. Many of the people here are like blank pages to me, but not him. He is like my favorite book, that lays open to me and allows me to read each letter individually. Just as I know every of his dreams, every secret, every truth and every lie. He is my protector, my hero in every dark night and every bright day. Without him, I don't even know who I am. He is a part of me and my heart wouldn't be whole without him.

I watched him grow up. From the small, thin boy whose eyes hid so much pain and sadness to the strong, soulful leader he is today.

His beauty cannot be influenced by anything, he is like my very own sun, without him I could not survive.

I wouldn't want it any other way though.

Now, I'm hiding behind a tree with my back pressed against the bark and I am able to hear the cracking and swinging of the branches.

I smile so wide, that my cheeks start to hurt, when I hear his voice calling. My heart is beating in my throat, but it's not just the adrenaline of not getting caught. It's because of my love for him, which is so strong that sometimes I'm afraid of it. But only in the moments when I realize that nothing, but him is my biggest flaw. I think I would do anything for him.

Then I concentrate again and listen to the sounds around me. But his voice has fallen silent and I don't hear his footsteps anymore.

My eyebrows furrow, confused I try to look around the tree and search for an orange t-shirt. Likely together with his slim body, biceps, beautiful face and wonderful personality.

But when I want to withdraw again, it's already too late. A branch breaks behind me and before I can move I'm pushed against the tree from behind.

I immediately feel his body against mine, hear the laughter in his voice and listen to his strained breathing. His hands wrap around my body and turn me towards him, so that we are now face to face.

He's taller than me and as I look up, I feel the familiar fluttering feeling in my chest. I am so in love with him.

He grins triumphantly at me and I lean against the tree, smiling kindly.

"Found you, princess." The light reflects in his brown eyes and some of his curls are laying wildly on his head. He looks like an angel.

"I made it easy for you." My voice teases him and when he leans in so close to me, that our lips almost touch, I forget how to think properly. A habit I can't change. He's just so captivating.

"Yeah? You think I wouldn't have found you otherwise? Funny. I remember that in the last few years, I always was the winner of our little game." His lips brush mine, I want nothing more than to kiss him. But he knows that, which is why he slowly pulls back, when I start to lean forward.

When I want to complain, he puts his hand around my waist and pulls me into his chest. My knees almost give out, I feel so intoxicated by his presence.

"I-I wanted you to find me." My voice whispers quietly.

His eyebrows rise in mock surprise.

"Then I guess, I can claim my prize without feeling bad." In the next second, his lips are on mine and I'm unable to do anything, other than kissing him back. I wrap my arms around his neck and enjoy the warmth that radiates from him. He sets my heart on fire.

While pushing me against the tree, I've completely forgotten about, he lets his hands wrap possessively around my waist. Digging his nails into my hips, to keep me grounded. Otherwise, I would probably get lost in those sensations.

Luke kisses in a way, like it's the last time he'll have the chance. (As if I would ever want to keep him from doing that).

He's passionate, my body feels like it's on fire and the heat inside me feels so good, that I want more. I can never get enough of him and he knows it. He grins against my lips, but he doesn't break the kiss. I think he secretely loves knowing how much he can mess with me, with just a few kisses.

My hands find his hair and pull him closer to me, our chests touch and his breathing mingles with mine.

It is wonderful and so precious, I would refuse any gift from the gods just to be close to him.

When he pulls away from me, our bodies are still close. My eyes open and look dreamily into his, our gazes reflect a familiarity and love that is like nothing I have ever experienced.

He smiles at me, pushes a stray strand of hair behind my ear and leans himself against me. His fingers stroke the exposed skin of my pulled-up shirt.

"I've missed you." If my heart hasn't melted before, it has now. I give him a kiss on the cheek and hug him, we stand in our embrace for a moment. Enjoying each other's closeness, the calm feeling until the next chaotic situation happens.

"Now we are together again. Only that matters." It's quiet around us and when I close my eyes for the second time, I hear his fast heartbeat. I have to supress a smile.

The wind is the only thing I hear until his voice breaks the silence.

"Something will happen soon. Something big." The peaceful atmosphere is threatened by his words and when I look at his face again, I see his worried eyes.

I sigh, but then nod to agree with him. "I thought about that too, it feels different. Like something is coming our way, that we can't control."

His fingers stroke my cheek and for a moment, his face holds an expression, that I can't understand. It resembles regret.

But before I can ask him about it, he smiles tenderly at me again.

"Nothing will separate us. The world is just a game. It's a matter of time and making the right moves." That is his motto. But I'm not always convinced of this. Even though I trust him to do the right thing.

"I'm just worried we'll get seperated, you know? Evil can be sneaky and traitors always exist. You never know who you can trust." Something I said must have really bothered him, because he looks like I just stabbed him.

This time I ask him about it.

"What's on your mind? You can tell me. Two people who worry about something are better, than one who is alone with it." I take his hand and stroke his skin, it feels cold even though we have summer.

"Nothing, just- I don't want to lose you. I couldn't be here without you. I need you. I mean...I-I love you. You know that I would do anything to keep us together, right?"

His words surprise me. I know he loves me. I can sense that, everyone probably does. But he has never worn his heart on his sleeve and the three magical words only come out of his mouth on special occasions. The fact that he's telling me now surprises me.

"Of course. I trust you. We will survive together, I know that. Are you worried because of the rumors about the Titan King?" This topic is always very critical and he usually doesn't like to talk about it, but this time I decide to address it directly.

"He will come. I just want you to be safe, when it happens." He sounds so confident it gives me goosebumps.

"Perhaps. His followers will definitely try. But love is stronger than anything else. Especially our love. We will get through it." He doesn't look convinced, so I turn his face towards mine and kiss him.

My voice sounds soft, when I speak again.

"Luke, I love you. I could never leave you. Not even the King of the Underworld will be able to keep us apart. I promised to be by your side in every moment of our lives. You are my soul and without it I am damned."

This seems to reassure him, but I feel like he's not telling me something of great importance. But I don't want to push him, I know he will tell me when the time comes.

He always does.

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

As the day comes to an end, I say goodnight to my siblings and report for my night watch duty. The situation has been a lot more worse the recent weeks. Kronos exists, my worst fear was confirmed. And he is building an army, that is so strong that it will be difficult to fight against it. But what I'm really worried about are the rumors about our people, who have also joined his cause.

Nobody knows who, the spies have been hiding ever since. I've never felt like I was paying more attention to my words than I am now. The only person I don't have to hold back to is Luke.

But even with him I notice the effects of the bad news. The circles under his eyes are darker than ever and his nerves are so frayed, that every little thing makes him want to explode. His temper is hanging by a thread, that is increasingly threatening to break. And I'm trying everything to prevent this.

No matter if I try it by making him laugh (which has become difficult), massaging his tense shoulders, trying to kiss him to the point of forgetfulness (usually it's the other way around) or when he takes out his frustration by burying himself deep inside me. With every thrust of his hips, I feel him relax, his hand so tight around my body as if I would run away, if he didn't hold me close enough.

He's changing and I'm trying my best to maintain his good sides. That he doesn't completely lose himself in his responsibilities and the pressure, that he has, because he is a member of the camp council.

Besides, I can't complain, when he fucks me until I can't breathe aynmore and I block out everything around me. When he comes, he whispers the sweetest things in my ear. Even if sometimes they sound so protective, that I could almost come from his voice alone.

When he whispers to me how good I am for him or how much he loves being able to have such a power over me like that - maybe it should scare me, but I trust him like no one else.

My mind concentrated his best for my shift, but when I finally go to bed after quiet some time, my eyes quickly close.

Looking back, I wish I had never let myself sleep that night.

Because, when I close my eyes I see waves. Hear the seagulls screaming in the sky, the fish swimming in the water and the distant cries of strangers.

It's all unusual and the bright light would blind me, if I didn't avert my gaze. And as soon as I do it, I see a ship. It's huge, rust shimmers in the sunrays, the anchor shows that it's been in the same place for a while now.

I feel something pulling me towards it, pushing and burning in my chest, leaving me with a tremor that I can feel, even in my deep sleep.

As I flit through the window like a ghost, I feel paralyzed. My blood freezes, I want to disappear immediately and in my mind I scream at myself to wake up.

But it's no use, whatever is here, someone decided that I have to see it. Only then, my wish will be fulfilled and I can wake up. So, I hide in a corner, there are scratched picture frames above me and broken glass is scattered on the floor. The monsters that loudly crush the glass ahead of me seem unstoppable.

I tremble as I look at at least seven dracaenae, several shaggy hellhounds and set my eyes on gigantes, that take up almost the entire room.

But that is nothing compared to the terror, that grips me when I see my classmates. My friends. People I trusted, who I fought alongside, for who I cared about. People I would have sacrificed myself for. They all betrayed me. And I feel close to tears. When I want to turn away, I hear a voice that almost brings me to my knees.

It's Luke.

My faithful and caring protector, my heroic love. Someone, to which I had dedicated everything. He was my life, with every single breath I took. The motivation behind my every action. The reason I wanted to survive in this cruel world. He was everything I had and everything I will ever have and in that moment it was abruptly taken from me.

I didn't have the strength to concentrate, it was as if every fiber of my body was on fire, triggered by the torment of my suffering heart. Seeing him like that, in black armor, Kronos' silver mark glittering around his neck, instead of his colorful necklace. A stoic, hostile expression on his face, his hands gripping his sword, it all hurt too much to watch.

And as I sank to the floor and covered my eyes with my hands, I was still forced to listen. I couldn't understand why he was saying such things.

"With every day he becomes stronger, with every participation in our army, we become stronger. Everything is planned, the camp is weak. Just like all of its residents. The surprise is on our side, because we will show no mercy. We will kill anyone, who does not confess to us. Do you hear me? No hostages will be taken. Only Hades population will be expanded."

The screams around me are so loud, so angry and horrific that I feel tears running down my cheeks.

I don't want to see any of that. The person infront of me is not my Luke.

A kind of fog creeps around me and I feel cold, it seems too late to forget it now. When I notice the golden coffin and Lukes hunched posture, the scar on the side of his face, I realize he is praying to him.

To the fall of Olympus. Kronos.

I want to cry, to scream, to be angry - but I just feel like every part of my heart is breaking and will never be whole again. Luke will never again be the one to heal it.

My consciousness leaves the ship until I finally wake up, but I can't move at first. I feel lost, my muscles are stiff and after a few seconds I notice that I'm shaking. But it's not because I'm cold, the summer air is wafting in the air.

Such dreams are rare, but are like the own scary predictions of the future.

And then it comes all back so me, the memories, that have just turned my whole life upside down. Traitor. The word appears in my mind, I feel like I almost can't breathe. And then there is a finger on my cheek, gently stroking the skin and my chest immediately becomes warm.

I know this gesture.

When I open my eyes, I see his loving eyes and the smile that covers his mouth makes my heart clench in sorrow.

It was just a nightmare. Luke would never betray me.

But the whispers in my head say otherwise.

As we continue to look at each other in silent, I notice his furrowed eyebrows.

"What's wrong, my love? Did you have a nightmare? You look scared. Don't be afraid, I'm here. I will always protect you." His voice is so calm, so usual loving and it makes the butterflies in my stomach fly around like crazy.

He is so beautiful.

As he briefly turns his head to tighten the blanket around me, I see his side profile and the scar. Reminders of my dream crash onto me like a lightning strike from Zeus himself.

I sat up abruptly. Luke is a servant of our enemy. How could I ignore that? I feel like I'm almost starting to hyperventilate. The thought, this nightmare, Luke's appearance, this evil feeling - it makes me sick. And I'm suddenly so afraid, more than I have ever been in my life. But I can't tell if it's the fact that I just found out he joined Cronos' army or that he broke my heart doing so.

I see him tense, my panic seems to be affecting him too.

My thoughts are so confusing, I don't know what to do, I have to tell someone. I have to-

His hands find their way to my cheeks, cupping them gently to direct his gaze towards himself. I would have preferred not to look at him, but I have no choice. His eyes search mine.

Then, as if the weight of Atlas punishment was put on his shoulders, he lowers them. His lips tremble slightly and his eyes look at me, as if I am the most valuable thing in the world and he is about to lose it.

"You know it." He doesn't have to say what he means by that. We both know.

I want to break away from him, but he won't let me. He's always been much stronger.

But everything still feels so different, light surrounds us and I can't really feel my body.

"Listen to me, please. I can explain it. Please-" The world goes silent, before he can finish his sentence.

It is too much.

I stifle a scream. I want to jump out of bed, but his hands hold me close. I only manage to fall to the ground, breathing heavily, but his arms are much stronger and I'm still weakened by my dream. He trys to hold me in a position, so that his back hugs me. His hands grab mine and one of them covers my mouth to silence me, when I want to scream for help.

With any other person, I would have known what to do. With anyone but him, I could have defended myself without any problems. But it wasn't just anyone and what he had done to me, the betrayal he had committed, was nothing I could handle.

I tried to wriggle out of his grip, to kick him, but the more I cried and the more hysterical I became, the easier it was for him to have control over me.

And for the first time, it scared me.

"Please calm down, I have to explain it to you- you have to know, that I never wanted to deceive you, please-" I notice how his voice is failing and he has to pull himself together, to not to lose his composure.

When I shake his hand away and want to yell again, he grabs my neck with such a warning force, that no sound escapes me.

I tremble in his hold. Tears stream down my cheeks and I literally feel my heart breaking.

Then he starts whispering in my ear and his grip feels like a tragic prison.

"Nobody can know. I never wanted you to find out. Not until I convinced you, that it is the right thing to join him. Because he will win, sweetheart. I want us to win by his side." His voice sounds so confident and at the same time, as if he was a completely different person.

Tears continue running down my face and he slightly let's go of me, so he can comfort me.

"If you would just listen to me, you will understand my actions. Please, just listen to me-" but the world blurs infront of my eyes and I am only able to whisper three words, before darkness surrounds me.

"You betrayed me."

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

When I wake up, my head hurts so much, that it takes me several minutes to open my eyes. When I finally do it, I almost have a heart attack.

I recognize the similarity of this room from my dream. When I stand up, I run to the round window and look out, being only able to see the blue sea. Feeling empty and alone.

When I want to step out the door, I expect it to be locked. But instead the handle turns and I step out of the room. I'm so surprised about that, that I'm acting without thinking twice.

As I walk around the next corner, the deck creaks and I see an ugly creature in front of me, that makes every instinct to escape kick in.

I run in the other direction, but every turn makes me more desperate and, without any consideration, I run into the hall, I was so afraid of.

It is filled with all kinds of ciders, and I also see the figures of my classmates, wounded and unhappy.

It's all so overwhelming, that I dont even see him standing on the podium, in the first place.

But as the monsters try to grab me, his voice echoes through the room with an affable authority.

"Nobody touches her. You hear me? Nobody. She is under my protection." I almost freeze into a stature, as he comes towards me and I have no way of avoiding him. No weapon is within my reach, his eyes notice my growing panic.

"Everyone leaves the room. Now." Nobody discusses it, even if some roll their eyes or quietly protest. His authority is unquestioned, it sends a cold shiver down my spine.

When the last doors slam shut, we stand a few meters opposite each other.

"The doors are guarded." It's the first thing he says.

When he tries to approach me, I lose my nerves and run to the corner with the broken glass, that I saw in my dream. I take them in my hands.

I see his eyes widen and he stops in his tracks.

"You- you want to fight me?" He actually sounds surprised and sad. Like I was the one who betrayed him and not the other way around.

"Don't come any closer. I may not have been able to do anything last time, but if you take one step closer then-" I don't know what to say. In no scenario did I ever think, I would have to threaten him.

But despite my warning, he comes towards me with his hands raised, the panic within me so palpable, that I can feel every muscle in my body.

I dodge, when he is only a few meters in front of me. Right into the next corner. As far away from him as possible.

"Princess, you can't keep me away forever. I've always loved that about you. You need me as much as you need to breathe."

It's supposed to sound sweet, but his words make me feel sick

"I'd rather suffocate." He didn't expect that. My words hit him so unexpectedly that he is almost speechless. Almost.

"I won't hurt you. You just have to let me get to you and I'll show you everything. You will understand, believe me." He really thinks, I'll just stay by his side and let him explain.

"Are you crazy? You're a traitor, Luke. You- you betrayed everyone. You betrayed me. How could you do this?" I suppress my tears, because that's exactly what he's waiting for. That my defense becomes weaker. I can't allow this.

"You dont understand. I always told you I would protect you. And I can only do that, if I'm on the winning side. And I am now. We are." His eyes flash with a craziness that makes me tremble. I don't recognize him.

"Why are you acting this way? You are doing the wrong thing - you give up everything. You're giving up on us." Tears leave my eyes and I see him take a few steps in my direction.

"I'm doing the right thing for us. You'll see. You just have to trust me, please. You know I always win. With the power he gives me, I will be invincible. You don't have to worry about one of us dying in this war anymore." I can't move, even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have a way out now. He's too close.

"You are wrong. I would rather die in this war than join this monster and his deceitful army." The shards in my hand hurt, but I don't let them go. They're the only thing I can use to defend myself.

"You would leave me?" His eyes are staring into my soul.

"Would you fight me?" Every word is more intimidating.

"Would you stop loving me?" His words are like his own shards, leaving deep wounds in my heart.

He's standing right in front of me now, looking at me like I'm fragile.

Then he whispers "Would you kill me?"

In the next second, he suddenly has my hands in his, making me drop the glass. Be is only a few centimeters away from me now, his eyes are looking into my own.

"Would you, princess? Then show me." Suddenly he does something, I would have never expected. He takes out his sword and puts it in my hands.

His own hands go behind his back, his eyes tempting me. I feel all the blood in my body drain.

"Do it. I can't live in a world, where you don't love me anymore. In which you are no longer by my side. I am yours. That will never change, just like my love for you."

I can barely hold the sword, it's so wobbly in my hands. He stands in front of me and gives me every chance to defeat him. But I can't move.

It's quiet for a moment, then I see new hope in his eyes and when he speaks again, the tone of his voice melts my heart.

"What did you say a few months ago, you would always let me win? Let's win together this time. Please, just listen to me." His hand strokes my cheek. Wipes away the tears.

Then he drops his hand and grasps his sword, letting it fall to the ground.

He takes my hand instead.

"Follow me." He pulls me behind him, closer and closer to the golden coffin, it's like I'm in a trance, but when I finally feel the cold aura of something cruel, I'm able to think clearly again.

"No-" I don't want to be one step closer to this thing.

He turns around so quickly, that I can only slap his cheek, before he grabs me again.

"That was for kidnapping me. Let me go now!" I want to avoid his grasp. But again he does something I don't expect.

He holds me still, catches my gaze and then, kisses me so gently that the feeling alone makes me almost completely defenseless. His hands cup my cheeks, grip my hair, hold my body.

This is probably his worst trick. I've never been able to resist one of his kisses. And he knows that. He uses it against me.

Then he murmurs words against my lips, that barely reach my ears.

My heart is pounding in my throat.

"You feel this? We belong together. It is not written anywhere on which side we need to be. As long as we are together." His fingers stroke my lower lip, his figure towers over me and for a moment my surroundings fade. It's almost like always.

But he's not wearing his orange t-shirt, his expression isn't relaxed, and I don't hear any insults from the camp members in the distance.

"You're manipulating me." I am powerless against him. I thought we were on the same team, that no one had more power over the other one. But I was so wrong.

His eyebrows furrow again, and when his hands try to pull me against him, I hit his chest, without thinking, with the only piece of glass I hid in my pocket. But unlike I expected, nothing happens. The shard bounces off his skin and falls loudly to the ground. I can only stare at him in disbelief.

"How-" He just looks at me worried, no anger is visible in his eyes.

"You can't hurt me. I have the curse of Achilles upon me." I suddenly become aware of the effect the lake Styx in the underworld hast and I almost fall to the ground at the realization, my knees weaken.

"That was a test earlier. You wanted to see if I would kill you-" my voice fails.

He just looks at me sadly and smiles in regret. My heart becomes heavy.

"And I knew you wouldn't hurt me on purpose. You would never hurt someone you love. Not if you'd kill me in the process." What can I do? He knows me better than anyone, he can see right through my every thought.

"I can't do this, Luke. I-I can't be together with you, if you are like this." I'm serious, but he doesn't believe me.

"That's what you think, but it's a lie. The sooner you admit it to yourself, the more pain you avoid. Our souls are linked together, without me you are not able to live. I know, that you will continue to love me, no matter what I decide to do. That's how much you love me. You would rather die than not loving me."

I can't listen to him. I can't.

But his eyes are like all the promises in the world. He is my world. How could I ever forget that?

"Please come back with me, Luke. I-I won't tell anyone, but please. Let's go, let's forget everything, please-" I cant deal with this anymore. It's like he's draining all the energy out of me. More with every word, that leaves his lips.

"I can not do that. It will stay the way it is now. Don't fight against me, fight with me. You are so smart and loyal, you will be convinced. He will show you." His eyes now flash with something that frightens me. I see his hunger for power, something that has always been dormant within him.

"Luke, the only thing I ever really wanted was you. No power, no war, no prosperity. Only you. But I'm about to lose you. Don´t do this to me, I beg you." My hands find his face, stroke the skin and I look into his eyes. But they are no longer the same ones I fell in love with.

I never thought he would love having power more than he loves me. It breaks my heart.

"I have decided. Nothing will change about that. Not even your pleadings. I'm sorry." His eyes reflect my desperation.

"What's holding you back? All you need is me." He says it so confident, that I almost wonder, why I don´t agree with him.

But my conscience has always been my greatest strength.

"I won't betray them. I couldn't live with myself, if I did." He takes a step back.

"But you could live without me? You would rather be by Jackson's side than mine?" His words hurt me. But he speaks the truth.

"I love you Luke, more than I ever thought was possible. But just as you put power before me, I put loyalty first. And I'm not sorry about that."

Frustration finally seeps through his perfect facade. I wonder how long he's been playing with me. The thought of it makes everything inside me tighten.

"I am not letting you go. Our fate is set. You will recognize it too and when that happens, you will be on my side."

His conviction frightens me, but this time it doesn't freeze me into a statue. Now, I'm running away.

And luckely, he didn't expect that.

For a few minutes now I've noticed one of the windows, that doesn't look very stable. I just have to jump against it to open it.

"NO!" Luke's voice echoes across the room, loud and warning, but it doesn't stop me. Before he can catch up with me, I jump towards the window, my shoulder hurts, but I was right, it breaks.

But I didn't think about the height difference and I realize it might be too late to do something about it now.

As I try to hold on to the wall outside, two thoughts repeat in my mind.

Either I die or I'm trapped.

Then I hear Luke's voice. He sounds desperate and at the same time angry, like I have never heard him before.

The wall is slippery and it takes every bit of strength in me not to fall, I know it would be my death. I hold on to the broken wall.

"She is outside. Get her back, NOW!" My muscles hurt and I don't know what to do. Then I hear the loud beating of wings. Before I can see who it is, I hear Percy's quiet voice. I feel like crying.

"Drop down, I've got you." I have to trust him. So, I let myself fall without thinking.

Then I feel myself landing on something soft, I hold on to it and my knuckles turn white.

The screams and shouts of the monsters make me tremble, I just want to get out of here. Even if it means, that I perhaps will never see Luke again.

"Come on, now. They'll be here soon." As the wings of the Pegasus move towards the sky, towards freedom, I let the tears fall. The wind is beating around my ears and I can only see in the corner of my eyes that we are getting closer to the clouds.

"I'll find you!"

Luke's threatening voice is the last thing I remember as I close my eyes from the grief of leaving him.

#percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #x reader #greek gods #love #betrayal #angst #percy pjo #percy series #annabeth chase #percy jackson

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whorediaries-09 · 23 days

Text

so you pack your life away

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort. a/n- for the story's worth, reader was in gryffindor.

little train. series masterlist.

you crossed your leg over the other, stretching out your limbs. sirius handed you an ice cream before he sat down beside you on the park bench. the night had fallen, but somewhere within the quiet revering silence amongst the chilly breeze and sirius' presence made you lose your presence of mind, which further resulted in losing the track of time.

yet, it was nice to actually have company apart from your colleagues. also somebody who you remembered being a part of your youth.

'if you don't mind sirius, why are you wandering about here? i mean don't you want to rewind in the wizarding world?' sirius took a bite of his ice cream sandwich before answering you.

'i mean, the press is after me. i don't exactly want rita skeeter rushing about in the daily prophets. we all know how she is. i also read the recent articles she wrote about you, and save you, you've been absolutely crushed by her.'

'we all know how rita skeeter is,' you chuckled. sirius shook his head, agreeing with you, letting out a bark like laughter into the wind. it ruffled with his hair, tousling them. suddenly, he felt a pang tug at his throat.

'i wouldn't be here without you, i'm so grateful for you.' he said, taking your hand into his. your hand melted into his warm, rough and calloused touch. you nodded, staring into his deep gray eyes. the sparkle of life had been enlightened into the true sirius black gaze. and from within, you felt it slowly burning your heart. slow, calm and tepid. but you let it.

you let him escape his quiet treason.

'i told you, sirius, i stand for true justice. i believed in you. dumbledore betrayed you, i know.'

sirius felt his eyes pool with unshed tears as you talked to him softly, treating him like a person, not a deranged criminal. the voices in his head screamed horribly shrill and loud, as he escaped his quiet treason, and into your arms.

'how did you know it was not me? there have been countless prisoners with no trial. why me and not them?' the moment sirius spilled those words from his lips, you knew you'd been doomed. while you had been expecting the question at some point of time, you didn't know the time would come so soon.

'sirius, i was with you at hogwarts.'

'what! i don't remember you being there! and for what it's worth...you look younger than me...'

'you don't remember me because i am three years younger than you. so naturally, we never shared any classes. but what we did have in common was the quidditch team. i was on the quidditch team. i'm not sure if you remember, however i still owe my beater's skills to your teaching. you taught me a few significant steps and tricks.' sirius awkwardly glanced at your face, bubbling with curiousty.

'i remember your group- the marauders. the pranks, the mischief each and every one of you caught up. significantly, i remember remus. he used to tutor me, since i'd gotten too distracted with quidditch. he was quiet and seemingly timid, but i sensed their was some sort of mischief behind his facade. james who was the better one between the two them, at transfiguration sometimes joined. i think mcgonagall never asked james to tutor me because she knew he had a very low attention span. he was always fidgeting with the snitch. although i do think for the most part, james went to the library to solely woo lily.' sirius silently laughed, letting the words consume him. he noticed you'd carefully dodged their other friend, peter.

'and what about me? do you only remember me being your mentor at being a beater?'

'of course not, sirius. i remember a lot of things about you. especially about you, actually because i could never go a day without hearing your name. my friend had a huge crush on you and she wouldn't go a day without talking about you.' sirius grinned, sparing his sparkly white teeth.

'is that so? did that annoy you?'

'it did annoy me sometimes yes, but who didn't have a huge crush on sirius black at hogwarts? everybody had the hots for you back then. my friend initially became jealous when she learnt that you had been teaching me, so i decided to keep myself away from you and not be more than a sort of teacher and student. and a few days later, she asked you out and you declined because she was too young. and the feelings disappeared like poof.'

he laughed heartily at your articulate description. 'i also remember in my second year, something became very grave within your group. after a few years, the news broke that you had escaped and walburga black had disowned you. we never knew where you went, but by grace, i had guessed that you were staying at james'. the point is, you two were like two peas in a pod, almost like brothers. which told me everything i needed to know. you didn't kill him, no you couldn't. so, while studying the trial less cases for my examinations, yours was the most recent and the most deranged- and the most unjustified. i had my mind made up the moment went through it, that you deserved the freedom.'

he bit his lower lip, carefully sliding his front row of teeth upon his lower lip.

'you don't know me yet you did so much for me, i can never thank you enough.'

'you packed your life to move into a shit hole even when you didn't deserve it. if you think you owe me something, no you don't. the ministry owes you, sirius. the years of youth and mourning they snatched away from you, keeping you bound to a prison. you'd escaped one when as a child, but they tied you down again. the prejudiced fuckers will never understand the things you went through.' sirius felt the tears escape as you strengthened your grasp around his hand. you were spewing anger, hot and boiling which brimmed at the edge of your patience. you clenched your jaw as the silent breeze struck into his hair.

sirius wanted to calm you down. while he wasn't sure how to, he awkwardly moved closer to you, so his knee was brushing with yours. he freed his hand and cradled your face into his clasp.

'thank you,' he whispered, 'can i hug you?' he said, desperate to comfort you. more than you, perhaps he wanted to feel your touch - the same touch that had calmed him down during the trial. the same touch that had made him feel safe after being touch starved for so long. you nodded. his arms wrapped around your body, engulfing you into his warm, comforting embrace. your crumbled body within his arms felt like the serene touches of maa on his scalp as she rubbed coconut oil.

he had packed up his life, and for a fortnight, he thought he'd acquired the freedom he had ruined his life for. he had allowed the joys to relish him in warmth.

but when your arms wrapped around his body, pulling him closer, he felt a sliver of hope to unpack his life.

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original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius

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pascalslvt · 8 months

Text

Tangled Alliances

Summary: When faced with sickness in your community in an already post-apocalyptic world, it is up to the strained professional partnership of you and Joel Miller to embark in a perilous and difficult journey in order to retrieve life-saving medicine. With your destinies intertwined, shrouded in tension, you confront the unforgiving challenges of your environment together, gradually forming an unexpected bond. Will that be enough?

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader, f/m

rating: 18+, minors dni

series warnings:, pre!ellie, during outbreak, set in TLOU 2022, age gap (28 & 52), swearing, mentions of violence, also actual violence, mentions of sickness, heavy angst...., fluff, trial & tribulations, severe weather, a lot of fucking animosity and hostility, enemies to lovers ???, infected people, tension...TENSION!!!, bickering, copious amounts of alcohol, inebriation, y'all don't get along...but y'all also have to, smut!!!!...a semi-slow burn, anxiety, exhaustion, NO USE OF Y/N.

chapter warnings: Mentions of backstory (involving the death of readers parents), bickering, bad langauge, tess is mother, mentions of sickness and death, aclohol, sharing a tent (wink wink), cheeky morning wood, just a sprinkle of smut if you squint its not really smutty but not completley clean, bad luck ??, tension. lots of it, intrusive improper thoughts.

word count ≈ 8,3k Estimated reading time: 37 minutes, 4 seconds (225 wpm)

a/n: This is the first part of a series i am writing!! I haven't actually written fanfiction since i was like...15, so be very very kind and gentle and patient with me because i am literally just a girl.....i have dusted off the cobwebs & busted my writing out of its retirement to create a story to quench my current joel miller obession. This storyline is actually inspired by a dream i recently had and i am very excited to reeeeally get into the series as i have a lot of plans that i cannot share with you right now.... also sorry if the tags are wierd i gennuinely have no idea what the fuck to write. Part two will come pretty shortly (don't get used to it) because after i awoke from the dream i literally wrote almost 20k words in one sitting so im splitting it up and giving this one some time to see if people are even interested in reading more...please enjoy!!!!!!

Part One: Hostile Beginnings

You were nearly seven years old when the outbreak started. To you, the world crumbled before your feet in what seemed like an instant - shattering the very ground on which you stood. One day after school, you saw your own mother's jugular be ripped straight out of her neck from the mouth of your neighbor, an old and fragile woman who used to babysit you from time to time. Before running away in fear, you saw your mother bleed out, right there on the lawn you used to play in. You never saw your father that day, and neither did you ever again. You always accepted that your father's fate was that he most likely died in that little cubicle he worked in. Or that he now spends the rest of his life infected. Whichever the case, it doesn’t really matter to you, you don’t think about him anymore.

You got away with your life by the skin of your teeth that day. That little girl ran until her tiny legs could carry her no more. Your English teacher, Theresa, had found you in a ditch, sobbing. You had been wearing the same outfit you did that day in class, a purple shirt with a flower on it, along with some blue pants. Theresa didn't have the heart to leave the little girl behind, so she took you under her wing.

Throughout the years, Therese - or ‘Tess’ as you liked to call her - taught you how to survive this very unfortunate world disaster. While you were still young, she taught you to crawl into small holes to retrieve food or water, and to hide whenever you felt something was wrong. She taught you to trust your instincts. She taught you to be resilient. Resourceful. In later years, you were taught to use a gun, to mend knifes, to defend yourself - how to navigate this apocalypse safely.

When you got older, Tess made use of you in her line of work. Smuggling. And you were good

This is how you got to know the man named Joel Miller. A cynical, gruff man of very few words. But, he always got the job done. You and Joel didn’t interact much. Now that you think about it, you hadn’t met him more than.. what? 5 times before today? even less so had you spoken with him. Tess didn’t want you to work alongside Joel as she believed his methods could sometimes be…taking unnecessary risks. He could sometimes be reckless. And you were not a risk she was willing to take. Not yet.

Ever since finding that shattered little girl all those years ago, Tess always felt an unwavering, deep sense of responsibility to keep you safe. She owed it to you, and she owed it to your parents. You were now a full-grown woman, 28 years old - and Tess knew you had a strong head on her shoulders. With the years, the fierce overprotective nature gradually softened. She gradually unfolded her wings of trust, and sent you out on more and more jobs. But, it wasn’t until recently that she felt comfortable enough to let you work with Joel. Nothing big, none spanning more than a day or three. To her dismay (but yet also relief), the two of you ended up ultimately proving to be an incredibly efficient team. However, the two of you could not get along even if your very life depended on it.

It was a silent alliance. It had to be. Otherwise, you’d end up getting on each other's nerves and damn near kill one another. Joel always made it incredibly clear that you weren’t friends - he wasn’t there for pleasantries, he was there to finish a job. Not that you objected. The less condescending shit you had to hear him say, the better. You didn’t care much, either way. You were a professional - after all, you had done this since you were a child. This was your reality. You never had much choice.

Lately, a lot of people in your community have fallen very, very sick. It is some sort of pulmonary bacterial infection that starts off with a fever, and will leave you coughing up blood a couple of months later. A slow killer, but a killer nonetheless. Some of the older folk have already started dying.

“No, absolutely not, Valerie” you heard Tess’s voice come from downstairs. You just happened to walk past to hear it. “It’s way too risky”. These words piqued your interest. “She is our best option, and you damn well know that” Valerie, a woman you live and work with says, a stern undertone in her voice. You slowly walks towards them, walking down the stairs without making a creak, eavesdropping.

“This would take months to complete..” Tess sighs, adding in, “We don’t even know if we have that kind of time, folk’ are already dyin’. We don't even have no idea how heavily surveilled it is”

“Do we have a choice? We’ll run out of our own supply within a month if we’re lucky. They will all die”

Tess is quiet, you could almost hear her thinking if you listened hard enough. You enter the room, “What’s going on?” you ask

Tess stands still and shares a look with Valerie before looking at you, sighing and crossing her arms. “We have received intel that there is a massive supply of vital medical equipment as well as medication, medication that we need. It’s In a settlement controlled by some sort of… faction. They call themselves the ‘reclaimers’. Nasty bunch. We need the medication, and well.. If our sources are correct, which they haven't failed us before, it’d be enough to not only cure the folk round here; but we could also sell for an enormous profit. We could make a lot of money. Maybe buy a new truck. Supplies. Guns….”

“I’m in.” you say, without hesitation, cutting her off. Tess shakes her head, she opens her mouth to speak, but you interrupt her before she can “I can manage myself, you made sure of that.”

Valerie looks at Tess with a ‘I told you so’ look. “You’d have to walk for, probably, months on end just to get there and back. They’re west, somewhere in Montana, located deep into the forest. You have never been on a mission that lengthy, and it's fucking cold as shit - and it's only going to get worse”

“What’s our other option here? Let people die?” you ask, and pause. They stay silent. “I wouldn’t accept if I didn’t know I was capable of handling something like this, Tess….”

You look at each other for a long time. She knits her eyebrows together, somberly, and shakes her head. She doesn't know if she can let you do anything like this. Not because she doubts your ability - rather, she cannot get herself to put you in that type of danger.

“You heard the woman…” Valerie says smugly.

“Fine”. Tess says, slightly annoyed and probably feeling very protective. “I need to stay here and take care of some things, keep track of the radio and such.. Valerie needs to tend to the people here. It…It would be you and Joel.”

This takes you slightly aback. On one hand, even though Tess might think his methods are unconventional - she trusts him, and you trust her. Besides, you have worked professionally very well before and always get the job done. But on the other hand…it’s Joel fucking Miller.

“Months on a job with Joel Miller? Fuck me…” You scoff. Tess’s lips curl into a slight smile evidently trying to hold back her laughter. She knows the kind of disdain you feel for him.

“There’s no one else I’d trust to send you away with on a mission like this. Except for me, of course” Tess says, leaning against a wall. “Are you still in, even if it’s him?” “Well.. i don’t really have a choice now, do i?” you say, and they chuckle. “When would we leave?”

Tess pauses. “You’d have to leave tomorrow” she studies your demeanor, waiting for you to opt out. Hoping in a sick, twisted way that you would - since that would mean that you’d be safe. You don’t hesitate. “He doesn’t know…yet. But, I know him. He would not turn this job down. Besides, he owes us too much, he can’t”

You nod. “Well…he’ll probably be as pleased with working with me as I am with him” you say, rolling your eyes.

“It’s about time the two of you get over that little feud of yours” Valerie interjects, you send her a warning look

“Ain’t my fault he’s fucking unbearable” You point at her, gesticulating your annoyance already brewing by the mere thought of him. She shrugs.

“I’ll call him on the radio - let him know.” Tess says.

“With her?!” You hear Joel’s voice boom down from the hallway, annoyance evident on his voice. ‘yup. i was right’ You think to yourself, chuckling as you’re eavesdropping from the other room. They start start walking towards the kitchen, where you are stood. When he sees you, he nearly rolls his eyes, stopping in his tracks. “Well. Looks like we’ll be partners.”

You smile tight-lipped, nodding and holding back an eye roll of your own - trying your best to be civil. “Seems that way”

“We leave at 8. ‘Expect you to be ready by 7 forty-five” He commands. You nod at his instructions. ‘One minute of a partnership, and he has already taken the leading role. Fucking jackass.’ you think to yourself. “Better get some rest”

“Yeah, no kidding…” You mumble to yourself, sneering. He gives you a warning look. One that says ‘don’t start’.

Knowing there’s no point in furthering this conversation as tensions are already high, and you have months to argue with him, you turn to walk “I’ll go pack then” You announce, turning around.

“And try not to piss me off” Joel says loudly as you walk away. You just hold up your middle finger and leave the room. “Real mature!” He scoffs as he looks at Tess with a look that says ‘can you believe her?’, she just shrugs.

That night you packed all that you would need - supplies, food, weapons, a tent…the everyday outing must haves in the midst of an active apocalypse, also…for the cold. Of course, you are not a total stranger to it, living here in Boston, but you also know that the cold here won't compare to the temperatures you are about to face - as you know walking through the north of the US in late autumn, early winter will not be an easy feat - and in a little tent, at that. It was estimated you would be gone for about a couple of months, at least - which is by far the longest job you’d ever been on. But, it was essential.

That morning you wake up particularly early, to make it a point not to be late. Wouldn’t want to give Joel the satisfaction of berating you. You can already feel yourself wanting to spite him. Tess helped you carry your things down, not that you needed help, rather she felt bad for sending you to do something like this. Capable or not, she had a …. Somewhat motherly instinct for you. She also gave you the map with the places you’re headed, where you’re meeting the informants, where the safehouses are located and so on - and gave you the same rundown as she did for Joel, keeping the both of you informed. You are now stood in the kitchen, with your things in your arms. She paused and looked at you, having trouble finding the words, feeling herself getting choked up by the reality of the situation. Before you can diffuse the fears you see swirling in her head, she holds you tight. “You be real careful of yourself, got it?”

“Yes m’am.” You say, voice slightly strained by the suffocating tight hold she has around you. She lets go of you, and cups one side of your face with her hand, and smiles with glassy eyes. She shakes her head as she takes a step back, as if to snap out of the sentimentality.

“Now go and get that medicine.” she nods, trying to sound emotionless and strong. You nod and turn to walk out the building. “Oh, and… give him a tough time. Joel, I mean” She laughs

“You know I will” You wink, as you finally leave the house. Tess stands there with an awful feeling inside the deepest parts of her. She was meant to be the one to protect you, and here she is; sending you off to a mission where she doesn’t even know the magnitude of the threat it poses to your life. But, it’s too late now. Way too many people are depending on you.

You continue walking out, as you lean against the truck parked outside. You’re not going to drive far with it, only 10-12 hours or so. They wanted to transport it somewhere else to sell (since the ongoing surge of illness has eaten away at your community fund), and since it was on the way Tess figured it would not hurt to cut down the length of the trip just a little bit. You stand there for a while, until you check your clock: ‘7:46am’. You snigger by yourself. Without noticing, Joel was walking towards you, gear in hand

“Right in time, for once” He mumbles.

“You’re the one who is late, Joel” You correctly point out.

“It’s one minute, stop yappin’” He says, walking over to the truck, throwing his stuff into it and getting into the driver's seat, slamming the door. What a cheerful man.

You throw your bag into the car “I don’t understand why you’re the one driving” you mutter, getting into the passenger seat

“You know exactly why. Now shut it before I rip off ‘ya jaw and shove it up ‘ya ass.” He says, matter-of-factly, putting the keys in the ignition, turning it and starting the engine, looking forward.

“Ooh, very kinky, Joel” You say sarcastically, taunting him.

He puts his foot on the clutch, as he shifts the gear. “Keep talkin', and I'll leave ya here.” he says and starts driving.

“If only I’d be so lucky…” You mutter silently, watching out of the window as he pulls out on the narrow road through the tall buildings, keeping away from the major roads as they are heavily used by FEDRA.

“I heard that” He said, pointing at his ear, eyes on the road.

“I’m glad your hearing is working, old man. Gives us a bigger chance of survival” you chuckle

“Old man?” He asks, insulted by what you said. “I'll show ya old man if you don't shut the hell up.”

You roll your eyes, and decide to sit this one out. You know it’s not worth bickering, as you have a long, long road ahead of the two of you. “That’s better” He said after a little while of silence. You roll your eyes once again, deciding with all your will and might not to respond with a snippy comment, as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving him the reaction he so obviously is searching for.

You two drive for hours and hours without saying a word, sitting in the thick tension that is between the two of you. It wasn’t necessarily a comfortable silence, rather a silence that comfortably didn’t mean you had to talk to him. After 7 hours, you can start seeing the shift in the sky, the colors indicating the impending sunset that's occurring.

“Maybe we should find somewhere to find shelter? Suns going down. “ You point out.

“I could work that out myself, thanks” He mutters. “We've still got a few hours left of daylight. Push on.”

“So I’m guessing your plan is that we sleep in the car?” You question, looking at him. He doesn’t leave his eyes from the road.

“Yup.” he says. Well, you couldn’t think of any better plan, to be fair. A truck is not a bad place to sleep given the alternative.

After about an hour or so, the car starts suddenly sputtering. “What the fuck?” Joel mumbles, as he quickly checks around the dashboard to see if there’s any indication as to what’s going on. You look over at him, quizzically. “Fuck!!” He shouts, hitting the steering wheel so hard that it honks, as the car comes to a halt. “That’s just…that’s just fucking great” He says, trying to restart the engine - to no avail.

“So much for your plan on ‘pushing on’” you said, looking out at the quickly darkening sky, mocking him. He looks annoyed at you, as he gets out of the car, to check the hood. When he does, a light amount of smoke seeps out.

Well, that sucks. But, you try to remind yourself that this truck was always going to be a temporary luxury, and you got 8 hours into the 12-hour trip. Oh well, more time with… Joel.. Sigh..

“Engines out” He grumbles, waving the smoke away from his face as he closes the hood again, standing and watching hopelessly at the car with one hand on his hip. “We’re not too far from the trucks drop off spot, guess we’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”

“So we just leave it here?” You ask

“Got a better idea? We’re in the middle of nowhere, nobody gonna steal it.” He answers.

“It’s your head, miller…” You mutter. He chooses not to answer to your snark.

“I say we still sleep in the car. It’s better than a tent.”

You nod in agreement “In the middle of the road?” You ask, looking at an already annoyed Joel. He grimaces, whilst he mocks what you just said

“No, you idiot, we’ll have to push it” he stated, looking around the road to see a good spot, and ended up pointing at a spot by some trees a couple meters from the road. “And it ain't an easy feat. Let’s see if you got the strength to push a two tonne vehicle, little miss”

You shrug. How bad can it be? Joel gets in the car and makes sure its gear is in neutral, as the both of you stand at the back of the car, starting to push. It takes some time, and Joel was right that it was, indeed, not an easy task. By the time you got the car by the trees you’re both catching your breath, Joel sweating profusely

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You say between breaths, holding your hands on your hips. He’s bent over in exhaustion.

“Oh bite me” He hisses. You try not to laugh. “We’ll have to leave it here, try to radio Tess somewhere along the way, so they can pick it up - at least before someone steals it”

You nod. It’s gotten dark, it’s time to sleep. So, you climb into the truck and start leaning back your seat to get as comfortable as you can. Joel does the same.

“So…” You say, breaking out the map. “We’ll have to recalibrate… it’ll be…what I'm guessing… 2 to 3 weeks to walk to our first meetup spot with the informants.” I sigh, already tired.

Joel nods. “I'll carry ya if ya get tired” He teases, looking over at you as he lays back in his seat.

“Right back at you princess” You answer without a beat, changing the pins in the map, folding it back and lying on your side, away from Joel. He smirks at your answer.

“Y’sure got a mouth on you” He says.

You roll your eyes as you close your eyes “night”, you mumble, ready to sleep.

“G'night” he lies back on the seat and put his hat over his face before falling asleep.

The morning after, you wake up in a stir. The car was very cold, and the sun was just rising. You look around, and find that Joel is not in the car. You blink the sleep out of your eyes, and realize he’s popped the hood to check if there's any way to salvage this car. He sees you move around your head and peaks on the side of the hood

“g’morning, darlin’” he smirks. Is he more annoying than usual or is it because you just woke up? You can't decide. You furrow your eyebrows. He chuckles to himself at how displeased you seem to be awake. You were, after all, never a morning person. “We gotta get movin’”

“Yeah, yeah..” You mumble, getting out of the car to stretch and go to the backseat to collect all your things. Sleep still in your system, the two of you start walking along the road. After a while, you opt to walking through some hills, as Joel got more and more paranoid of meeting someone on the road. You walked for what must have been…14 hours, only taking a small break to eat something small that Tess had packed, sitting on two different places and not exchanging any words. The sun started setting, the sky turning an orange tinge.

“We better find shelter..come on” He said, looking around and seemingly found a spot not too far away - yet secluded enough to sleep for tonight. He increased his walking pace in a determined manner. You follow along not too far behind. Suddenly he stops dead in his steps.

“Jesus fucking Christ” He whispered to himself, anger and frustration very, very evident in his voice

“What?” You ask, eyeing him a bit worried about his reaction.

“God fucking damn it” He whispers to himself “Dammit - I forgot my tent. We'll have ta sleep in the open. Hope you ain't afraid of the dark…”

“Speak for yourself. I brought mine. I ain’t sharing.” You say, resuming your steps.

“You're a real treat to travel with you know that.” He says, looking at you stood still, frozen by his own frustration as he is kicking himself for forgetting that damn bag.

“I bet I am!” you yell, as you have managed to walk a bit further along than he has. He sulks as he continues walking.

You both decide on a safe spot to make a shelter. Joel and you start instinctively preparing to make a fire and collecting anything that will burn. To his dismay, a light downpour of snowflakes suddenly fall from the sky. You look up and laugh at the sheer irony of the situation, the frustration of the day just piling onto Joel. And it’s only the first day at that. “Ain’t that a bitch, huh, Miller?”

“Gotta be fucking kidding me” He groans. “That’s just great”

The two of you start a fire, and put two cans of soup on it for dinner. He is sitting against a rock, drinking whiskey, looking as happy as you could in his situation (spoiler alert, he is sulking). You are putting up your tent, which you dutifully brought (unlike Joel) and you pause as you catch a glimpse of the sad man who seems to be very stressed with the current predicament he has found himself in. He is visibly freezing his ass off. You feel strangely bad. He can't sleep in this cold…

“Look, miller” you pause, he looks at you. “You’re going to die in this cold. Let’s just share tents. Ain’t nun weird.”

He scoffs, and looks back at the fire, taking a sip of the whiskey “I'm good”

You sigh. “Stop being such a fucking Stoic and get over yourself. If you share your whiskey, I’ll share my tent” you say. Maybe by making a deal out of it, it’ll be easier for him to accept your help, you thought.

He thinks for a while. He weighs out his options, as if there is not only one he can realistically go with - which is to accept your help. “Fine. Half-and-half?”

You nod, somewhat happy that he accepted, yet less happy of the reality - which was that you have to share a tent tonight. “Half and half” You repeat, nodding. You walk towards him and sit next to him.

He gets another cup from his bag and fills it with his cheap, illegally brewed scotch, and passes it to you. “That’ll warm us up nicely” He said. It tastes like piss and firewood.

“Aye” You say. “How did you manage to remember bringing your whiskey, and not your tent?” You ask, with a slight hint of laughter to your voice.

He huffed. “Priorities” He smirked, turning to you.

“Well. I hope you have brought enough to maintain your end of the deal” you say, taking a sip. He silently lifts his bag, emitting a number of clinking noises, entailing he has probably got enough to last him weeks. Maybe a week now that you are involved.

“Seems like an unnecessarily heavy weight to carry” you remark, taking a sip of the strong liquid.

He stays silent for a while. “You’ll understand it soon enough” is all he says. Not knowing what he meant, neither caring all too much, you shrug and kept drinking aside each other in the dark silence. You eat the soup when it’s done, too. You pulled your legs to your chest to maintain more warmth, as it feels as though its getting colder by the minute, a few stray snowflakes falling onto the ground and quickly melting away.

“Didn’t think you were so damn sensitive to the cold” he suddenly said.

“M’not, it’s fucking freezing” you say, breathing out.

“Don't think I don’t see you shivering, princess” he says, with a sly smirk on his mouth

“Right back at you, princess” You say, mocking the way he said it to you. “Don’t fucking call me that ever fucking again, by the way”

“Someone’s a tad touchy, ain’t they?” He laughs, taking a swig from his whiskey

“Shut up, Miller”

“Why? M’igetting on your nerves?” he asks, sarcasm swelling in his voice.

“Always have been” You quickly retort.

“I’d say it’s mutual”

You nod, as you kept drinking. The whiskey has become a lubrication for the regular anguish you’ve felt in the presence of Joel. Now you felt no more than subtly irritated. The drunker you got, the happier you were of the deal you did with him. You kept drinking in silence, until you’ve drained about a quarter of the bottle - which might seem like a little, unless you calculate the amount of food you’ve ingested compared to the whiskey you’ve drank. Your cup is, once again, empty - and you guide the cup towards Joel, who dutifully fills it with more.

“Here ya go, princess” he says sheepishly, and you turn to give him a warning look

“I’m serious Joel, I’ll knock the teeth right out of your mouth if you keep calling me that.” You say, rather aggressively.

“I’d like to see you try” He snorts out.

You decide not to answer, as he is clearly getting a rise out of antagonizing you. You roll your eyes and chug the rest of your cup. So did, Joel.

He, again, filled your cup. “You seem happy I brought the whiskey. Like you could use some of it” He comments

“No shit. I’ve got two to three months on a mission with you. And it’s only the second night” you shrug. “Not to mention that we have to share tents…”

“I ain't that bad” He chuckles.

“You’re drunk” you add.

“So are you” he quickly responds.

You nod, and sit in silence for a while - both, quite drunk. “I’m fucking tired. You tired?”

You feel a bit loopy from all the alcohol, but stand up and agree, walking over to your tent. The closer you get to the tent, the more you realize just how small it really is. I mean, it’s small for just one person, imagine how cramped it is for two? Surely, the both of you cannot fit in there - what the hell have you gotten yourself into? You think to yourself.

Joel walks slowly towards the tent as he watches you look into the tent, worriedly. He looks himself, and the same thought passing your mind right now has suddenly dawned upon his, “Oh, boy….” he mumbled

“Yeah, I know.”. You are both stood there, looking, for a while - until you initiate and climb into the tent, and lie down on the right side - making as much space for Joel’s body as you can.

“This ain't gonna be comfortable, not one bit...” he says, as he lies down next to you in the tent, in a clumsy and stale motion.

Your bodies are uncomfortably pressing together, without there being enough room to move away, nor was there to shuffle to a more spacious yet also non compromising position. You tried lying back to back, as it seemed the natural and least intimate way to lie next to one another, thus facing away from one another. Still then, there wasn’t enough space to spare personal space - not in this tent.

“God this sucks.” you mutter from one side.

“You got that right.” He answers from the other.

You groan, as you try to get comfortable, nudging your elbow into his back in the process. He huffs out of pain. “You're making it worse.”

“Shut up. I’m just trying to get comfortable” You say, feeling an unrest in your body - one that the whiskey was not strong enough to numb.

“So am I” He gets more irritated as you keep nudging into him.

Finally, you settled to lie on your side, facing away from Joel. He takes the newly found empty space and lies with his arms against your back. You groan. “Your arms are hurting my back” he does not seem to care, and stays silent. You finally give into defeat, as the mixture of the sleepiness and alcohol slowly seems to overtake your body and you both fall asleep.

Somewhere at night, you had rolled over. Joel was very warm, so naturally, subconsciously, you drifted closer to the source. With your face against his chest, he was softly awoken by the warm breaths coming out of your mouth, in small snores. He looked down, and saw you sleeping peacefully, right against him. He lied completely still, not sure if he should wake you up. The snores were not loud enough to keep him up, so he presumed that is the price he’ll have to pay to sleep somewhere warm tonight, so he tried closing his eyes and fall back asleep, repeating in his head not to look anymore at you - and just go to sleep.

Suddenly you wake up, the morning after, head plastered against Joel’s chest, with his arm slung around your body, and your arm slung over his shoulder. It felt comfortable and warm….strangely.. Good lying like that, but you didn’t know how to react. It was utterly intimate and had crossed the border to cuddling very long ago. And oh god…is that your saliva on his shirt? Did you drool on his chest?! You were so close to him that you could smell the stench of whiskey on his breath, no less your own bouncing from his chest and back to your nostrils. You were basically on second base with the man, without ever remembering if you fell asleep that way or if you had done it in your sleep. I mean hell, you barely remember getting into the damned tent…’we must’ve gotten very drunk’ you thought to yourself. You must’ve rolled over and not thought about it.

You lie frozen, unsure what to do in this situation. If you jerk too much, you’ll wake him - but if you don’t move… he’ll see what you are seeing as of right now - which is you two in an extremely compromising situation. Maybe you could turn around? But then it would border spooning…curse this god-damn tent!

As if awoken by your thoughts, Joel’s body moves as if he’s waking up - and in a hasty and rushed move, he jerks his arm away from you - as if he just went through the same train of thoughts you did when you woke up. “What the fuck” He groaned, looking at you in an.. Almost disturbed manner.

“Fuck.. Uh, mornin’..” You peep out, embarrassed. Kicking yourself for not acting faster before he woke.

“Morning” he says in a rushed voice as he looks around, slightly panicked. None of you know what to say, an awkward silence hanging over you. He is quick to peel away from you to climb out of the tent. “We gotta get going” he announced.

“Y-yeah” You say, sitting still in the tent, processing the situation. When you have mustered enough strength, you crawl out of the tent too - stretching as you stand up. You pack up and walk alongside each other in silence, might as well have been miles apart. The weight of your unspoken closeness from the previous night's ‘cuddling’ lingers in the air, you were both a bit thrown off, sharing the occasional glances at each other, unsure of how to address what had happened, or whether it was better left unspoken. There wasn’t much to say, to be honest. I mean, what was there to say?

You got quite accustomed to the silence, to hearing nothing but the sound of your footsteps, wet against the humid grass. You’d think that walking for hours on end without the distraction of conversation would be something that would bother you, it proved to do the opposite. Without it, It was as if the world around you had muted its colors and sounds, leaving only the barest minimum of sensory input - which made time somewhat fly by. The aching in your feet and legs slipped to the back of your mind. You wondered if Joel was quiet because he was doing the same.

You also wondered what his thoughts were regarding this morning, and how you woke up. You didn’t talk about it, that’s obvious enough…but, what was he thinking about? Maybe he didn’t think about it at all - it was, after all, innocent, you rationalized. Was he also trying to decipher the mixed emotions you were feeling without giving them too much weight - since that might make them real, after all? You can’t deny just how safe and comfortable you felt, regardless of who it was.

Joel spotted you glancing at him here and there, he was equally aware of the tension. He, too, couldn't shake off the memory; He couldn’t help but to replay the events of last night in his mind, wondering if it was merely a product of shared body heat or something deeper. I mean, he could have just pushed you away…yet the unexpected warmth of your body against his, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as you slept, your breath hot against his chest.. It had been an intimate moment, and he couldn’t help but…enjoy it. However, he was as stubborn as ever, unwilling to broach the topic nor delve into the act itself. Instead, he focused on the mission at hand, pushing the awkwardness aside, shaking his head, not wanting to think too much of it either.

As you continued on the journey, the trees began to thin out, and you found yourself standing at the edge of a clearing, the sun going down behind a mountain up ahead. You looked at Joel, who seemingly had the same thought you did - it was time to find shelter. He took the map out of his bag and looked around. “We aren’t too far away from a safe house” he grumbled.

You nodded, taking out a map of your own, trying to help him in the search of said safe house. As you slowly approach the road leading to the building the weather began to change. Dark clouds gather in the sky, and the first few raindrops fall, pelting against your clothes. The urgency of getting under a roof became more apparent, so you quickened your pace.

Your breaths are visible in the cold, damp air, and the water has seemingly seeped into your clothes - leaving you feel colder and heavier. The cold made your thoughts kept circling back to the tent. The unexpected warmth of Joel's body against yours.. ‘God damn it. Get a grip. it's not even day four, and you're losing your mind.’ You thought to yourself.

Finally, you reached the safe house, which wasn’t what either of you had hoped for. It was an abandoned decrepit building, a relic of the world before the outbreak, with a roof that had seen better days. It was a stone building, partially hidden away by the tall unkept grass surrounding it, as well as tall trees huddling around it, vines growing on the walls. It was probably old 20 years ago, let alone now… The building was leaking from the roof and had gaping holes in the walls - making the shelter far from ideal. It offered some protection from the rain, but not much else. It was, however, better than getting drenched in the pouring rain and being exposed to the elements. You closed the door behind you and took a moment to catch your breath, looking around.

“Well.. This is the best we've got for now” He finally muttered as the wind howled through the gaping holes in the walls.

You look around and find it was pretty empty. There wasn’t any furniture, just a chair. Floor filled with scattered garbage and miscellaneous, dusty items from people who have been here before. The water is dripping from your clothes onto the stone floor beneath you, creating a puddle. "We need to get out of these wet clothes," he finally stated, his voice practical and no-nonsense.

You knew he was right, but the timing of it made it slightly uncomfortable. He knew he was straining on the already strange atmosphere that has been looming over the two of you since you found each other in the brace of one other. However, you also knew the reality of the situation. Your pride was warring with the necessity of the situation. The chill in the air and the knowledge of the dangers of hypothermia prevailed, and rational thought found its way back to you. You have months left to travel with Joel - and undressing in front of him to ward off sickness should not be an embarrassing thing, it ensures your survival and should be nothing more - is nothing more.

He could see the hesitation in your eyes, as you shivered, teeth chattering. He looked around for any dry fabric he could find within the safehouse—tattered old blankets and worn-out jackets. It wasn't the most comfortable solution, but it would have to do for now. He picked up a jacket. “Here.”

You nodded in agreement and began peeling off your drenched attire. Joel did the same, his back turned to maintain some semblance of privacy. Finally free from the soaked garments, you are quick to put on the jacket, zipping it, covering your body enough to feel more comfortable. You start wringing out the excess water from the clothes you wore, leaving a puddle of water there. You avoided even looking in the direction of Joel, who you know is (most likely) currently butt naked. Instead, you find a moth-eaten blanket in a corner of the room that the rain hadn’t reached. Shivering uncontrollably, you wrap it around your waist, covering your exposed legs. You could see a not so naked Joel who had found some pieces of clothing to cover himself, thankfully. He was now hanging his wet clothes against the singular chair that he moved to one of the few dry spots in the house, so you opt to do the same. The room was still far from warm, and the leaky roof didn't help matters, but, at least you were in dry clothes, if you can call them that.

You spot the ever so tiny wood burning stove in the corner of an empty adjoining room. You check if there’s any wood in there, and to your surprise there is - however, not much of it. Enough for tonight, and that’s all that mattered. You started a small fire and quickly huddled up against it for warmth. Joel walked into the room, as he’d seen the light from the fire from the corner of his eye. He nodded in approval as he silently walked towards you, sitting down next to you to also keep warm. You both sit there in silence, waiting for the clothes to dry.

Joel broke the silence, his voice softer this time "We'll have to wait out the storm here, and then we can continue our journey." You nod, agreeing.

As the night wore on, the humidity in the room strangled the feeble fire you had managed to kindle earlier, ultimately snuffing it out. The temperature inside the safehouse plummeted, and it became apparent that you couldn't rely on the fire for warmth any longer “Damn it” You mutter, shivering once again, trying to revive the fire - to no avail.

What was also apparent was that the two of you were so obviously treading around the one thing you knew would help warm you up, very much proven by last night. Unsure, feeling awkward, you didn’t know if you should bring it up. Proudly, you both sat there in silence. The memory of the previous night and the warmth that entailed lingered in the back of both of your minds. It had been an unspoken but undeniable source of comfort in the midst of the harsh world you inhabited, and now, with the cold seeping into your bones, and the urgency to get warm overtaking the awkward tension looming over you, the thought of that shared warmth became impossible to ignore.

Without saying a word, you shifted closer to Joel, seeking his body heat. Joel, initially surprised, looking over at you, understood the unspoken request and shifted to accommodate you. It was an unspoken agreement, a silent acknowledgment that you needed each other's warmth to survive the harsh, cold night.

With a shared understanding of practicality and mutual vulnerability, you created a makeshift sleeping area consisting of zipped up sleeping bags, dry blankets and whatever else fabric you could spare that would dampen the solidity of the cold, damp floor. This was where you settled as you finally lay side by side. You tried to find a comfortable position, mirroring the way you had slept in the tent the night before, with him against your back. Your bodies pressed together, and your breaths synchronized in the cold darkness, neither of you speaking about it, rather you let your bodies instinctively gravitate closer, seeking the heat that the other provided.

In the quiet of the night, as you shared body heat to stave off the biting cold, the tension that had lingered between the two of you began to seemingly fade. Despite the uncomfortable surroundings and your strained relationship, you both found a strange comfort in your shared warmth and the familiarity of each other's presence. There was no need for snark, nor sly remarks; pissing each other off. Neither did you have to discuss the somewhat uncomfortable, albeit innocent yet necessary, situation you’ve found yourself in. The cold was unforgiving, and your priority was to avoid hypothermia. You were, after all, nothing but two survivors making the best of the harsh and unforgiving circumstances given to you, finding solace and comfort in each other's company, even if it was unconventional.

He hesitantly kept his arms to his side. Joel broke the silence, clearing his throat, his voice barely a whisper, "I never thought I'd miss that damn tent." trying to diffuse more of the tension.

You slightly laugh, feeling a slight cramp in your body from the duress of the situation. The laugh eased up some internal tension you didn’t even know you were holding onto. “It was for sure warmer than this” You chuckle.

He smiled. And that was that. You were both admittedly exhausted, and drifted off into a very well-earned sleep, lulled by the heat radiating between the two of you. Secretly, you couldn’t help but to wish for the extra warmth that came from his arms around you, as it did yesterday, holding you impossibly close, keeping you safe in his big strong arms. Little did you know that he was thinking the same, but it was simply a line that Joel couldn't bring himself to cross. You had already navigated enough awkwardness and unspoken emotions that night. That didn’t stop him, however, from subconsciously doing so in his sleep - just as he did the night before.

Morning came, and you were awakened by the sun shining through the window, and onto your face. To your surprise, you felt your body be wrapped in the warmth of Joel's embrace. He must have instinctively put his arm around you whilst he slept. At first, you felt a sense of contentment. It was strange, but also undeniable. It was a reassuring feeling, knowing that he was there, holding you tightly - just as you had secretly hoped. But, as your senses fully woke up, you became acutely aware of something else - a firm pressure against your back that couldn't be ignored. You froze, your eyes widening in shock, and your heart raced as you registered the presence of Joel's erection pressed against your back. Joel was still asleep, as far as you were concerned. His breath heavy and warm on your shoulder, light snores leaving his mouth. Your mind raced as you tried to process the situation. You two had already crossed so many boundaries during the night to stay warm, but this felt like an entirely different kind of boundary altogether. Was this intentional? Or just a physiological response to their proximity?

Was there a sick, twisted part of you that engulfed your mind with fantasies of alleviating the pressure burning in the pit of your stomach with the (from what your back could feel was a very appropriately sized) dick prodding at your back? Yes. You were only human, after all. Were you going to do anything about it? No. You knew this was not intentional, not realistically. You’re a grown woman and know that he couldn’t control it just as much as you couldn’t control your deep guttural reaction to such an… event.

You debated over your next moves, unsure of how to navigate this uncharted territory. If you move away, he will wake up, realize he has a boner and think it scared you off. But if you lie there, hoping it goes away, and he wakes up with a raging boner still in full swing rubbing against you - he’d be mortified. Him, being a proud man would never live that down, and would probably not talk to you again, or at least not know what to say, in the midst of his own embarrassment. After yesterday, and the progress you made in your ‘partnership’, you couldn’t help but to dread the deafening silence that came with the impending awkwardness. You’ve been through so much already, and have yet to even get close to finishing this mission. So much left yet to go through. You have crossed so many bridges, this is just one of them. This was just a fleeting moment and not as significant as it might feel in the heat of the moment. It’s not a big deal, not really, just bodies doing body stuff. Or at least that is what you are telling yourself.

Carefully, you adjusted your position ever so slightly, shifting your body away from his rock solid member to relieve the pressure between your bodies, all the while ensuring that you didn't wake him from his peaceful slumber. It was a delicate maneuver to maintain the pretense of sleep, but you hoped it would be enough for you to potentially feign ignorance, just in case he was awake. You, flustered by the situation and the thoughts lingering in your (albeit perverse) mind, could not fall back asleep. Rather, you lied there letting your thoughts run wild. Couldn't hurt to indulge into harmless fantasy?

A couple of moments later, you could feel shifting next to you. Joel slowly woke up, feeling the oh so familiar throbbing that welcomes him in the mornings from time to time. Joel comes to his senses as he gently wakes up, quickly remembering the way he fell asleep against you and how much of a compromising position that would be for him right now. He quickly snapped his eyes open to see, to his relief, that you had moved away in your sleep, or at least so he thought. ‘Phew’ he thought to himself. He quickly sprung to his feet, leaving the room - hoping it goes away before you wake. He was not entertaining the idea of taking care of it, it could be too risky.

Him waking up reminded you of his existence, which filled your lust driven mind with an enormous guilt and shame regarding your thoughts. He didn’t have control over that, and your insatiable mind went and ran with it. You quickly shook the thoughts off and tried to think of something else as you laid there, unsure how to proceed..

You laid still until you heard Joel packing his bag. You took it as an indication that you were out of the woods, and had dodged a bullet - even though the both of you are flustered by it, without the knowing that the other one knew. You get up, and start folding the cloth and blankets that made up your ‘bed’, and walked out to the room with the bags and packed. Joel didn’t say anything.

“G’mornin’” You announce your presence. He, already hyper aware of it, hums as a response. You don't look much into it, relieved he isn’t treating you differently considering last night's sleeping arrangements. When you packed up, you put your backpack around your shoulders, your rifle around your neck and the rest of your gear clinging to the bag. You look at Joel, who is watching you as you pull the straps of the bag. You look up and nod. “Let’s go?”

He nods. You’re off.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel tlou #tlou serie #tlou series #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #light angst #light smut #joel miller x you #here goes nothing

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denimbex1986 · 11 months

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'Since his breakthrough performance in Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later over two decades ago, Cillian Murphy has become one of the biggest names in acting. Later, Murphy honed his skills with an iconic performance as Tommy Shelby in Peaky Blinders and a series of collaborations with beloved director Christopher Nolan. After appearing in The Dark Knight, Inception, and Dunkirk, he now takes on the starring role of the eponymous Oppenheimer in one of the most anticipated films of the year.

Alongside the Irish actor’s love for cinema, he also harbours a passion for music. In his youth, Murphy sang and played guitar in bands, even meeting his wife at one of his gigs in the mid-1990s. His most promising band was The Sons of Mr Green Genes, named after the Frank Zappa song, which featured Murphy and his brother Páidi. Acid Jazz Records even contacted the duo to offer them a deal, but they declined.

Though Murphy’s gigging days are behind him, music remains a huge part of the actor’s life. During an interview with the Sunday Independent Life Magazine, he stated: “The only extravagant thing about my lifestyle is my stereo system, buying music and going to gigs.” He still plays and writes alone and with friends and was even featured on a recent single by The Coral.

Expectedly, for someone so well-versed in music, Murphy’s taste is varied. Though he presents on the alternative station BBC Radio 6, his taste stretches beyond dad rock. From the early synth-pop of Christine and the Queens to fellow Irish performer Van Morrison, Murphy has littered his interviews and radio shows with wide-spanning music recommendations. We’ve collated a number of tracks he’s shared his love for throughout the years.

Murphy once awarded the title of his favourite band to Radiohead, naming ‘No Surprises’ as the song he wishes he’d written in an interview with NME. He states: “I think they’re the biggest band, who became the biggest band in the world without wanting to be the biggest band in the world. They’re probably my favourite band.”

Murphy also once noted his love for the contemporary Irish band Fontaines D.C. On one of his shows for the BBC, he stated, “I’ve been playing a lot of Irish music, but I am Irish, and there is a great explosion of new Irish music!” He names ‘Liberty Belle’ as one of his favourite tracks from their 2019 debut album Dogrel, but adds, “Every single tune, they’re relentlessly themselves.”

Murphy also shared his love for rapper Kendrick Lamar, noting that DAMN was the first album his 11-year-old son ever purchased. Murphy’s own was The Final Countdown by Europe: “I’m not ashamed of it; it’s a great riff. But Kendrick Lamar… Look, I think he tips it.”

Ranging from Beatles classics to contemporary rap and 2000s indie, check out our collated list of Oppenheimer star Cillian Murphy’s favourite songs below.

Cillian Murphy’s favourite songs:

Christine and the Queens – ‘Tilted’ Elbow – ‘Fly Boy Blue / Lunette’ Europe – ‘The Final Countdown’ Fleetwood Mac – ‘Man of the World’ Fontaines D.C. – ‘Liberty Belle’ Jackson C. Frank – ‘Blues Run the Game’ John Lennon – ‘God’ Kendrick Lamar – ‘YAH’ Low – ‘Always Trying to Work It Out’ Marvin Pontiac – ‘Small Car’ Massive Attack – ‘Hymn of the Big Wheel’ Paul McCartney – ‘Maybe I’m Amazed’ Radiohead – ‘Daydreaming’ Radiohead – ‘No Surprises’ Stevie Wonder – ‘Sugar’ The Band – ‘The Weight’ The Beatles – ‘Love Me Do’ The Kinks – ‘You Really Got Me’ The Strokes – ‘Someday’ The Velvet Underground – ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll’ Van Morrison – ‘Sweet Thing’'

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interlunium-opus · 1 year

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►DANCING WITH THE DEVIL #003 [Sunghoon.] — teaser

Previous Parts ‣ #001 | ‣ #002

Abstract: Juxtaposing the way your town was beginning to get a new lease on life after the authorities finally found the culprit behind your town's recent serial killings, your life was fraying at the edges instead as you still had to continue battling your inner demons on the daily – from nightly terrors to random flashes of visions – the latter of which, for mysterious reasons, seemed to only happen when you are face-to-face with Park Sunghoon, the bane of your existence. The more distraught you were over it all, the more convinced you were to get to the bottom of it, even if it means wreaking hell with the bane of your existence and waltzing with him in a game of his own making. You knew you were treading dangerous waters in doing so but you figured, if your days are numbered, then you'd rather go down fighting, dragging him down with you. But with the line between hate and love being thin, someone is bound to slip up soon, thereby threatening to ensnare the both of you deeper into the tangled web that Sunghoon had spun for you in the first place.

Genre: vampire!sunghoon | horror | thriller | fantasy | romance (or is it? 😋)

Status: released >> click me <<

>>> | Masterlist |

A/N: hi guys! I'm back. At least it’s not a 1-year wait again this time unlike last time oop- 💀 thank you so much for the love you all showered for Dancing with the Devil. I kid you not ever since Dark Blood concept teasers were released, that series gained a new lease on life, it was so stupefying lol ((unless someone boosted that fic somewhere, I can only think of the latest album casting a long-overdue well-justified spotlight towards vampire!enhypen as it should))

This 3rd chapter is actually quite hard to write. I have tonnes of ideas but once written they become too long, too messy, too arduous and too disjointed that every time I revisit it to continue writing it, I just end up scrapping a huge chunk of it and rehauling it. Eventually, after months of re-writing and after at least rehauling it 20 times (I know I suck), I have finally written about almost ~17k of it and am finally satisfied with how the story is going and flowing for the most part. So all that is left now is to fill in the gaps in each sections, make sure they flow nicely and make sure each section ends in such a way that makes your heart drop. Then of course to proofread it. I can’t promise you a date but rest assured, I won’t vanish on you hahaha maybe by the end of this month? That’s a safe bet. I get antsy if I drag it too long anyway.

Let me just say though, if you love ((tension)) and the hate((-love)) relations between the two in this series – you’ll love this chapter 😉😉 😉 (lol where is this overconfidence coming from, have some shame A.). But yeah, I was sick of how much I was dragging it in the initial drafts so as I rehauled it I was so obsessed in making sure that hey were at each other’s throat in a more love hate way rather than hate hate way. I've also made y/n more feisty and confrontational to ✨stir✨ the tension further. Basically, if you want a hint of what went down, the hint lies in the moodboard above OHOGOOHOHOH

ps. If you’re feeling extra nice and generous, do drop me some kind words about my work in my inbox to get my motivations burning 🔥

#enhypen vampire #enhypen imagines #enhypenwriters #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon vampire #kpop imagines #sunghoon scenarios #enhypen sunghoon scenarios #kpop scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen vampire au

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burnin0akleaves · 7 months

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Day 7 of drawing the hottest ranger every day:

Since this is the last day of my little TRR Will appreciation week, I wanted to draw something special and let you all in on an opinion of mine.

I think Will had a beard during his marriage with Alyss.

Now I'm not going to go too into detail about Will's character, how some people seem to infantilize him or how his 30s largely get forgotten by the fandom because I actually want to dedicate a huge masterpost on all of these later. Not anytime soon, because I don't have that much free time, but ideally it would be me going over and analyzing Will's character progression throughout the entire series and presenting some arguments against common (what I believe to be) misconceptions on how he is portrayed in TRR.

For now though, I'll just talk about the beard directly.

After the prologue where we see Will on his revenge mission, the first time we are actually introduced to him is in his cabin when Halt and Gilan are there to talk to him about Maddie. This is the first time we actually learn about how Will looks in detail.

Now that he mentioned the fact, Halt noticed that his clothes were crumpled and stained and his hair and beard were long and uncut,

Will's depression leaves him "messy", both his house and his physical appearance not cared for. He doesn't care about daily tasks anymore, he just wants to see the killers of his wife behind bars. It's probably the only thing getting him to get out of bed everyday because have no doubt that this is a coping mechanism. After seeing him probably for the first time in months, Halt realizes that his hair and beard are both long and uncut.

Notice how this doesn't say anything about Will growing his beard out recently? Hell, I'd say its proof that Will's beard isn't new. Halt isn't suprised that Will has a beard, he is suprised at the lack of care he shows for himself. Will's hair is long and uncut too, did he grow out depression hair from scratch??

I think what most people forget when they read TRR is that at minimum 15 years have passed since Will and Alyss' wedding. Both of them had around 13 years to grow and mature and we as an audience don't see them during their 30s at all.

I think most of the traits people attribute to TRR Will believing they are a result of his loss of Alyss, are just signs of him maturing. People are NOT the same in their 20s and 40s, and they shouldn't be. Everyone reading this post has the right to shoot me point blank in 20 years if I'm the exact same person I am now.

Will, after his initial and very understandable period of depression, earns a lot of the traits he used to be associated with during his younger years back. He starts laughing again, he starts to make bad jokes, he allows the people he loves back into his life and learns to move on. He also still has a beard.

The point I'm trying to make here is that even if Alyss hadn't died, Will would still be closer to what we have in TRR now compared to the main series. Because he shouldn't be the same Will. He is a grown ass man in his 40s, while some traits like his high energy and joking personality will stay with him for the rest of his life they will be filtered down. They should be. That's what maturing does to a person and 30s are the prime age for this.

Going back to the beard, Will has no reason not to have one. It suits his personality, Will doesn't care too highly for his looks and likely wouldn't bother to shave daily. All the men around him had beards as he grew up, including his father figure, and he has no reason to not follow the same pattern. Beards are also very common for the time period we're speaking about.

Is the beard used by Flanagan as a simple plot point to show him aging? Absolutely. But it's really not tied to his depression as heavily as people think. The reason he becomes dark and grim for 2 years before learning to enjoy life again is the same reason his beard is unruly and not taken care of before becoming better shaven. Will, even if at the lowest point of his life, is still Will. He has a beard because he wants one, not because he is depressed. And I believe it makes the most sense for him to start growing his beard out during his marriage mainly because of the fact that there is no reason for him not to.

Howls you just talked to me about why Will has a beard while married to Alyss for 4 hours, why does he have just stubble in the drawing then? Easy, artistic choices. It's easier to separate Will in his 30s than Will in his 40s by giving him different facial hair. That's it. It's a bit of a cheap narrative device but it's also realistic and fitting for his character.

Will had a beard during his late 30s with Alyss and that's it, that's the post.

#will treaty #alyss mainwaring #willyss #rangers apprentice #the royal ranger #🍃 fanart #dilf will week

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springbloggy · 8 months

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It funny because BOTH Teen Titans Go and Johnny Test actively have new episodes/movies being made based on them to this very day, while the VAST majority of those ‘LoRe ShOwS’ from the 2010s have ended by now. So it actually, OBJECTIVELY looks like jack fucking shit was killed off for an entire decade. Almost like specific genres being killed completely for a set amount of time just doesn’t fucking actually happen in the entertainment. At all. Because how the FUCK would that even work.

What else is different about the universe you live in where Teen Titans Go and Johnny Tests didn’t obviously outlast those evil lore shows (whatever the hell that’s even supposed to MEAN)? And instead its Owl House and Amphibia that are still having new episodes/movies being made about them to this day??

Personally. I also think the future of animation looks horrible. Cartoons are constantly being cancelled or pulled off of streaming services, the unique and creative cartoons that ACTUALLY came from indie/outsider animators (I.E. those lore based shows you need to hate so much) have all been dropped in favor of cheap garbage that can be pumped out indefinitely because nobody gives a shit about making them any good, and constant layoffs/shutdowns are plaguing animation departments at multiple studios in general. Which are all BAD things that lead to animators and cartoon creators/writers being fucked over by companies as hard as they are right now.

I don’t even know what to say to you in that regard. It just seems like you don’t really give a shit about animation, REALLY don’t like any of the real world indie creators or people who actually want the medium to prosper, and are just towing the line of what Lily/Ginger have said nearly every fucking day for YEARS by now because you don’t actually have any ideas yourself about what the hell you’re even talking about when it comes to the animation industry. The unions for animators and those working on children’s cartoons overall weren’t even A PART of these most recent strikes you fucking moron!! I don’t even think that those can be called any type of animation “takes”, because you clearly know so PAINFULLY fucking little about cartoons or how the animation industry works at all. While getting all of your information about them from the like 3 fucking terminally online losers that you have an extremely unhealthy parasocial attachment too!!

Dang @ginger-snap-talkin-nonsense looks like I got one of your guys.

What I find the strangest thing about this act is the implication that modern animation is cheap, when it is the complete opposite now. Like, have you seen Spiderverse, Puss in Boots, Nimona? Even preschool shows have upped their game. That can't be cheap or easy.

Also there's a lot of assumptions on my personal life or my knowledge of animation here. Now I won't pretend I am an animation expert or industry expert, but I know quite a bit. I've studied in depth on some of the behind the scenes stories of animation, to the point where I cracked the story of what happened to one of the most obscure pieces of lost media (which btw expect that post in about 3 days). That takes time and effort out of my life studying this stuff to understand where things went wrong or right.

Also I do like indie animaton, and I do like people who actually want the medium to prosper, but a lot of people forget that animation, like all mediums of fiction, needs variety to prosper. You can't have every animated series to be a serious, lore telling show like how you can't have every movie to be a superhero action flick, or every book to be a dystopian novel (just for example). Variety is the spice of life. You also have to ask, did people make so many lore telling epics because they truly believed they were making a good story, or because it was the latest trend? I think something like Steven Universe did want to tell a story, but something like Amphibia it's a bit more questionable.

Also last bit, to define a lore show. Lore shows are shows that favor bits of pieces of lore drops and mystery instead of telling a good story. It's a term I came up with after my fascination with FNAF's history. FNAF used to be a game series with a good story, but after some time it became obsessed with hiding as many secrets as possible. Doing this for so long has hurt FNAF in the long run, where people dislike how many mysteries don't have a plausible solution, how bare-bones the story is, and how far it has come from its original roots of telling a simple ghost story.

My current list of lore shows are as follows:

Adventure Time at some point, Steven Universe, Owl House, Star vs., Amphibia.

I am not saying of course, that lore is a bad thing. I love a good mystery, or else I wouldn't have followed FNAF for as long as I did. But there's a good line to draw when having a good mystery over a good story. Or having story be there, but not be the total focus of everything the show revolves around.

Here's a list of shows I think have good stories/lore, but have other things that make the shows good that keep them balanced:

Modern spongebob (no, really), Gumball, Kim possible, American Dragon, Regular show, Clone high s1, Gravity Falls

Of course, I probably spent too much energy to answering someone who probably wanted to get a rise out of me instead of a thoroughly thought out answer, but there you go.

#Anonymous #springy thoughts #springy answer

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nickmaghighlights · 10 months

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Nick Mag Highlights - Nick Mag Presents: Danny Phantom (Fall 2005)

Well, well, well, fancy meeting you here. Welcome back to my blog and the words that inhabit it. Today, Halloween comes early this year when we read through another exciting issue of Nickelodeon Magazine Presents, this time all about Danny Phantom. Boo! Trick-or-Treat! Deck the halls!

And not only is this edition of Nick Mag Highlights spooky, it’s also… pretty chill. Y’know? Just takin’ it easy, reading a handful of comics and probably a crossword puzzle or something. As much as I love researching the kind of stuff Nickelodeon Magazine includes in its articles, sometimes it’s nice to sit back and take things at face value and just see what the state of Nickelodeon was like at any given time, and these short-and-sweet issues of Nick Mag Presents are the perfect venue for just that.

But why exactly am I tackling this purportedly Halloween-themed issue in August? Well, mainly it’s because that new Danny Phantom graphic novel just came out… two weeks ago (oops). And I really enjoyed it! So I’ve since been in a big Danny Phantom mood lately. I even ended up re-watching the whole first season and had a blast doing so. This show was a real obsession of mine as a kid, so maybe this blog post is also a way for me to give it its dues.

This issue can be found online here, read along… if you dare!

Another Nick Mag Presents, another humorously wordy introduction. If you’re unfamiliar, basically all these Presents-styled issues have a panel on the first page with a character essentially advertising the book to you and talking about all the comics and activities included inside. This one here features Danny and an understandably perturbed ghost, for example.

Since these issues were usually sold in stores as opposed to through a mail subscription, I suppose this is the issue’s way of hooking you in and explaining to you why you should buy it. I think a kid would probably be more inclined to just flip through the book and arrive at the same conclusion, but I guess this approach doesn’t hurt anybody.

But anyway, let’s see here… aw, only two wholly new comics? The Fairly Oddparents-themed issue I took a look at previously had five original comics. That’s a bummer, but at least we’ve still got variety… SpongeBob, My Life as a Teenage Robot, and The Wild Thornberrys, oh my! Even Tak makes an appearance here, two years before the premiere of his actual Nickelodeon cartoon, meaning this was an attempt to interest readers in the then-recently released video game: Tak 3: The Great Juju Challenge. Not sure if that worked.

And if you’ll take a look at that yellow, spiky bubble with words on the right there, this September 2005 issue is meant to coincide with the then-upcoming two episode-long Danny Phantom special, “The Ultimate Enemy”, which featured Danny taking on a more powerful version of himself from the future. Seems like the included removable poster is even themed around that very episode! Let’s just hope that poster is still left intact, eh?

So first up, we’ve got a page to get you up to speed on the main cast if you’re new to the show. It’s even got some new factoids for the already familiar superfans! For example: Did you know Sam is into anime? I sure didn’t.

Oh, and if you’re wondering where series villain Vlad Masters is, don’t worry, they go over him later on in the book.

On the right you’ll find an easy if not slightly amusing word puzzle, which tasks you with solving questions where each answer contains the word boo. Simple enough for a kid while still being worth the time, methinks.

Although all the stock ghost art on the page gets me wondering, how come most of the ghosts in the show manifest as typical-looking cartoon ghosts while others manifest in a human form? I guess maybe it comes down to the strength of your spirit. Who’s to say?

You’ve met the characters, now it’s time to meet the voices behind them! I’ll always take a side of interviews with my Nickelodeon Magazine, and this is no exception. The questions are cute, and I had fun reading them. Not much to say.

So we’re finally here at the first comic of the issue, and… not really a fan of this one! Yeah, sorry to start this retrospective off on a sour note but this isn’t really doing it for me. The main villain of this one is Youngblood, who already isn’t exactly one of my favorite villains from the series. But here they’ve got him and all the other characters stuck in a pretty by-the-numbers plot where Danny and co. get stuck babysitting the brat while he tries to maim them, with them of course unable to fight back lest they face the wrath of his parents (who are humongous lizard monsters, for some reason).

If you’re even a little familiar with cartoons you’ve probably already seen quite a few takes on this formula already. And even if you like Youngblood as a character they don’t have him doing his usual pirate shtick he’s remembered for, so I’m not sure what anyone is getting out of this, really. What's especially not helping is that this goes on for ten pages, further dragging out an already tired concept.

So there you have it, I guess. Done-to-death story with accordingly done-to-death jokes, a lame villain, and about two pages of action. I will say though, Danny and Tucker’s babysitting poster on page 2 did get a smile out of me, at least.

You’ve met the characters, and you’ve also met the voices behind them, now it’s time to meet… the rest of the characters! The villain ones! These guys really made the show for me, cause the team behind the show really just seemed to understand the assignment and made all of them really unique and memorable.

So we can see they’ve been ranked in terms of how dangerous they all are, which is a fun idea. ‘Course you’ve got Vlad at the top of, but then there’s Technus just behind him? I can’t say I remember him being notably more dangerous than any of the other baddies, I’m fairly certain he gets swept up at the end of his specific episode just like all the rest. I’m pretty sure Valerie gave Danny a bigger run for his money, and she’s down at #3.

Woah now, I’m starting to scrutinize the power levels of cartoon characters. Cartoon characters from a show I haven’t even fully watched all the way through since I was a kid, no less. Better put a stop to that before it gets ugly.

Cool little cartoons on the left there, that one on the top right is properly devious and I’m all for it. All the art is quite lovely too.

The right is… well, it’s Mad Libs, there’s no other way around it. Y’know the Mad Libs website refers to itself as “the world’s greatest word game” but I seriously think they need to take that up with Scrabble, or hell, even Hangman. Yeah I was never a big fan of this kind of fill-in-the-blanks stuff, but I guess it’s a pretty inoffensive activity to include.

Check out Danny’s dad rocking that emo hair.

And now we’ve made it to the second and last new comic for the issue, and unfortunately it’s only a two-pager. But hey, if my thoughts on the previous ten-page comic said anything, it was that I prefer quality over quantity. And this one is… okay. It’s funny enough, does what all it needs to with the concept, and it definitely doesn’t overstay its welcome. I’m again surprised by the lack of action in both of these comics, considering Danny Phantom is an action show, after all, but it’s not like the show wasn’t a comedy either, so it’s not that weird.

I guess while we’re here I could nitpick it a bit. The lineart here courtesy of series creator Butch Hartman* is a bit wonky at times. There’s the aforementioned emo hair Danny’s dad is wearing, but my main gripe is that dog robot just doesn’t really fit in with the rest of the artstyle. It being the only new original character design for this comic as well doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me. I guess the team was fine with whatever Hartman drew because he made the show after all, so surely he knows what he’s doing, right?*

*Insert obligatory comment about how much of a loser Butch Hartman is here.

Just want to give a shoutout to this pretty creative puzzle here. It actually stumped me a little when I first read it! Those monster designs are pretty entertaining too. Solid activity overall.

Next up it’s an installment of Sam Shade, which was a short-lived recurring series in Nickelodeon Magazine. Apparently the series ran from 2002 to 2005, so this may be one of the last times a Sam Shade comic was ever printed in a Nick Magazine.

These comics mainly consist of the titular Detective Sam Shade trying to solve some mystery, sleuthing around the area in a series of detailed, wordy scenes. Likewise, you as the reader are as well tasked with scouring the pages for clues to help deduce the culprit. Each panel here smoothly moves into the next, making for something like a Where’s Waldo puzzle but with an actual narrative. It’s a really good idea! A shame this series didn’t last longer.

Hey, is that Carl from Jimmy Neutron on the bottom right there?

Pretty nice My Life as a Teenage Robot comic here. Although that’s kind of unfortunate in a way, since that means I haven’t got much to talk about! It’s pretty much a 1-to-1 translation from animation to comic here. The artstyle and writing are both on point, it’s all just in a shorter, more paper-y format.

I wonder why the aliens’ speech bubble has flowers in it. Is that a theater reference, maybe?

The design of these fiery aliens are particularly awesome - simple but effective. I’m surprised they used such a cool design in a comic that was going to be seen by way less people as opposed to using it in the cartoon. Man, this show is so cool, even its supplementary media is stylish!

But anyway, do you want to know how this story ends? Read it yourself!

Ohh man, I distinctly remember this comic. I don’t remember what issue of Nickelodeon Magazine this one is sourced from, but whichever one it was, I had it. The story’s nothing to write home about really, It's another take on the age old tale of “Squidward yells at SpongeBob and Patrick for doing something annoying, so they inadvertently ruin his life”. Squidward must have a really good lawyer for him to be able to bounce back from all the crap SpongeBob and Pat get him into.

This version of the usual story has S. Bob and P. Rick making a cake in Squidward’s image. Mr. Krabs ends up mistaking it for the real Squidward, bringing it to the Krusty Krab, and having it run the cash register, obviously to disastrous results. It’s all pretty par for the course, and there’s some funny lines to be had.

Weirdly though, unless I’m blind, I can’t seem to find any credits for this one. Not in the comic itself or at the back of the book. I’m pretty sure the artist(s) behind this one did more SpongeBob SquarePants comics though, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the same writing team had a hand in them too. I distinctly remember one where all the characters turn into desserts. Or maybe it was an alternate universe where they’re all desserts? Something like that. Maybe I’ll find it and cover it on this blog someday!

And up next, it’s a Wild Thornberrys comic of all things (said with feigned surprise, having read the table of contents moments ago). And I’m just now realizing none of these comics have anything to do with ghosts, or horror, really. Quite the magazine you’ve got just in time for October, Nickelodeon!

But hey, it’s not right to judge a piece of art specifically by the context in which it is presented. Especially when it was originally published in a magazine that likely came out years earlier, probably not even around the month of October. Desperate times call for desperate measures and all that, even when it comes to filling the pages of a magazine.

This comic is especially cool, anyway, as you can no doubt tell from its distinct shakeup in style!

The story has Eliza receiving some gifts from her Japanese friend, Mayumi (who was probably in the show, presumably), one of those gifts being a homemade manga. And while I’m not exactly an expert on the Japanese arts, I certainly find this art convincing and really appreciate the attention to detail. I bet any kids that were fans of manga around this time must have felt pretty seen to have one of their hobbies referenced in a rather unlikely place, and with such attention to detail no less.

One thing I can also appreciate is that this story really isn’t something they could have pulled off in the show itself (unless they studio really wanted to have an anime-themed episode and go through the undertaking of doing an episode in an entirely different, foreign animation style all on their usual budget), so overall this is a really fun idea done quite flawlessly. My only gripe is we don’t get to see a manga-styled Nigel Thornberry, but what can you do?

Oh boy, the Tak comic, cool. Now, I know these games have their fans, but I can’t say I’m one of them. I did watch the show a bit though, but I’ve heard it has nothing to do with the games, so I guess that makes me rather unprepared to tackle this two-page comic on an intellectual, researched level. I will say though that I think the Sam Shade comic from earlier pulled off this style of free-flowing, no-panel storytelling to a much greater effect. The amount of Taks they threw around the page makes it feel really busy and cramped, and they had to essentially remove the second character Tak is traveling with from the story since I guess they were strapped for page space.

But yeah, the colors are nice at least, and Tak media is especially hard to come by nowadays, so I suppose if I were more into the property, I might be more into this.

Last comic of the day, and it’s Jimmy Neutron. At least this one kinda fits the theme, I mean, aliens are almost in the same horror-league as vampires, zombies, ghosts, and all that. This is a pretty quality one to end off the book with, and in regards to Jimmy Neutron, this is one of the better ways these characters have been translated to 2D. Although the incredibly warm colors and harsh shadows throw me for a loop. Pretty good overall!

Before we wrap things up, I would like to mention that advert for The Nicktoons Film Festival on the right. I totally forgot these used to be a thing! From 2004 to 2009 Nickelodeon hosted a film festival and let viewers vote for their favorite animated short, along with letting proper animation people who know what they’re talking about vote on their favorites, too. Lots of great up-and-coming cartoonists took part in these festivals. This one in 2005 actually featured a short by J. G. Quintel that eventually was used as a basis for his own Cartoon Network show, Regular Show! You can check the short out below:

youtube

Neat bit of history there, yeah?

Even though I’m still a bit disappointed this issue didn’t include more original content, I still think this ended up being a fairly entertaining walk down memory lane. And hey, I hope you had a good time too. I’m doubly disappointed, however, that the archive of this issue didn’t come with that tear-out poster! Now we’ll never see it in its full hi-def glory.

As always, thanks for stopping by and checking out another bit of Nick history with me. Have yourself a good one, and I’ll see you all next time!

#nmh post #2000s #2005 #nickelodeon #magazine #danny phantom

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youn9racha · 7 months

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New Chapter—Departing from This Account

hey guys… its ella aka youn9racha here

i’m back on here to regretfully to tell you all that i’ll be leaving the stayblr fic community. i’ve had so much fun being on here and i never regretted anything that came out of this account. it had been a wonderful one-two years being on here, and if i could, i’d relive this moment over and over again.

i cherish the people i’ve met here, the ones that got close enough to have my socials and the ones i’ve casually talked, whether through comments, reblogs and dms. y’all are wonderful and made my experience on here so special to me. words can’t describe how much this account means to me.

there are many factors on why i’ll be leaving, one of them being my university taking up most of my time, but the other factor that kinda hurts to admit is that i’m not as interested and invested in stray kids as i used to before. i still love my eight boys, in fact they’re the only kpop group i follow on my socials and i don’t intend on removing them anytime soon, and i still very much love bang chan. but i’m just not as obsessed with them to the point of writing stuff surrounding them anymore. I’ve been too preoccupied with life that it slowly drove me away from them, even to the point of me denying.

i’ve also developed new interests and hyperfixations, namely one piece, as being pretty evident as my recent posts about the live action series, so that also drove me away from writing for stray kids.

but all in all, it really has been fun being on here and writing for these eight men that have impacted my life from late high school till now in the best way possible. its crazy to think that i’ve been loving these boys from senior year of high school when i was 18 and now i’m a senior in college, truly i cannot thank them enough on how much they mean to this day. but i have to leave this part of my life behind. who knows, maybe i’ll start being obsessed with them again? only time will tell if that were to happen.

as for this account? i don’t intend on deactivating this account because i still cherish this account and i don’t think i’m ready to deactivate it yet. and besides i know some people like to read my stories even though i still haven’t fixed my masterlist—i promise once i have the free time i’ll fix it i swear! so why should i take that away?

anyhow, its been fun. i’m gonna miss writing her…

c ya !!!! 🫶🫶

p.s. if any of my mutuals on here wants to still interact with me, just dm me and i’ll give you my socials (i am technically an anonymous person, and i do go by a fake name so i’m not gonna give it out to anyone)

p.p.s i’ll still watch skz’s new cb

#goodbye （＾◇＾）👋

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hopefulfuturenovelauthor · 1 year

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Panic Room

Crowley x reader (gn) part 1

about 5,000 words. I hope you all enjoy and please do not copy my work, thanks!

Warnings: read through at like 1:00 am once so probably many mistakes, canon violence, the supernatural, angst (I guess), and language. Also slight warning, I’m planning on making this a 3 part/ maybe short 4th part mini series, but I take forever to write anything, this has just been sitting in my drafts for a couple of months.

Panic Room

Hell Raising

Hair Raising

I’m ready for the worst

So frightening

Face whitening

Fear that you can’t reverse

Welcome to the Panic Room

Where all your darkest fears are going to come for you …

Seven and a half months. For you a total of 75 years of brutal, unrelenting torture. Hell did not treat you well and to call you bitter would not only be offensive but also the largest understatement of the millennium.

You loved humanity, you loved your life, and you loved those in your life. Despite this, anger was all you could feel toward the people that used to bring you the most joy. The ones that made you laugh, that made you a better person, and left you behind. You didn’t even know if they knew.

You died. You died and as your deal had stated; you were going to hell. Readying yourself for the worst did nothing to help in the end. The place was so frightening at first, but with time you became used to the fear. It was nothing anymore. Your only goal in life was to never be afraid again. You knew what you needed, but more importantly, you knew what you craved.

You wanted them to pay. You made the deal for them. You made the deal with his crossroad demons. You took the price when the one that fucked up refused to take responsibility for his actions.

You sacrificed everything. You lost your will to live and more. You didn’t want to hurt just anyone you wanted to hurt them. You wanted them to feel every moment of your torture and then some. You didn’t want revenge, you wanted justice.

“Belial, the wicked one, it’s great to finally see you, however, I had been hoping I’d be able to put a name to a face. Is the mask really necessary?” Crowley stalled.

“No, it’s not necessary, I just prefer it. After all, I did go back to get my face, and I wouldn’t want my old identity to get out there, now would I?”

“I suppose not,” Crowley led on, making his way around one of his numerous castle rooms in Hell, preparing the both of you a drink. “How do you like your liquor?”

“Well, more recently I’ve come to like a nice earthy aged scotch or whiskey neat. Whichever you think would be better. Either is much nicer than the cheap beers I used to drink. However, you still stick to the room temperature yeast water if I’m correct Dean and Sam. As for you Castiel, your grace makes it unnecessary to even try drinking unless you want a whole nother liquor store,” you turn slowly to look at the shorter hunter sneaking up behind you.

Dean had stopped his stride as you started to speak of him. Sam carefully made his way out from behind a bookshelf to your left. Castiel walked with his usual cadence from your right, out of the darkness.

Crowley gulped as you slowly moved back to look at the King of Hell. The brothers collected together on your left moving closer to the demon you were staring at. Castiel armed himself with an angel blade shifting to Crowley’s side.

“It’s nice to see I’ve sent you into such a panic, my King. But all four of you, here, in front of me, it truly seems all of my prayers have been answered.”

“What are your grievances toward us?” Castiel questioned, as he held his position as a warrior of the lord.

“What the hell did we do to you?” Dean asked.

You chuckled menacingly, “Hell is exactly right, Dean Winchester. As for my grievances, I simply can’t move past the fact that I was left here to rot.”

“We don’t even know who you are,” Sam said, trying to ease the tension of the situation.

“I assure you, you know exactly who I am.”

“What is it you wish to do to us for our mistreatment of you?” Crowley did not seem bothered by your accusations. He was in fact satisfied with his work, but only because he did not know whose face lay under the cover of your mask and hood.

“I’m simply going to take you to where all your darkest fears are going to come for you.”

Crowley scowled at this. Castiel raised his blade. “You can’t hurt me, angel, you promised.”

“I have only ever promised that to one-“ Castiel stopped speaking. The look of sudden and horrifying realization dawned on his face.

“Cas, Cas, what is it, who are they?” Dean asked as Sam tried to get Castiel to share the information he had just come to understand.

“Well, I don’t care who feathers promised to protect. This is my kingdom, no one threatens me,” Crowley pulled out his angel blade only making it a step forward.

“Really, Crowl,” your voice sounded as it used to, no longer holding the facade of an old and ancient demon, “when have you ever beat me one-to-one? We could make another bet, you’ll have to finally take me to that one restaurant you're always raving about and saying you’ll bring me to.”

His face fell immediately. “No,” it came out of his mouth with a hint of denial, but his eyes begged for what he was thinking to not be true.

It was your turn to smirk at the demon. You did so as you took off your mask and slowly removed your hood.

“Y/n,” Sam’s voice came out breathy. You were unexpected. Dean’s face whitened entirely, finally understanding Cas’s silence.

“We burned your body,” Crowley’s voice was breaking and eyes watering.

“You should have gone to Heaven,” Castiel stated.

“And I would have. If I hadn’t made a deal to save you lot from Lucifer,” your nostrils flared and your glare was directed at the Winchesters. “You were like brothers to me. I saved you! And you!” your gaze turned to Crowley, “I was given two goddamn years, by your crossroad demons. And my life ended up shorter than determined because I sacrificed myself to save all of you. And-and you, you let me rot in Hell.” Your voice broke on the last sentence you let slip.

Each of the men before you crumbled at the weight of your words. Not a single one of them could look you in the eye.

“Do it,” Dean said. No one spoke out against this. “Do what you need to do, make us pay. Just, please, let Sam out of this.” The begging was something your demon side liked, but the human part of you was sickened by it.

You walked forward, reaching out to cradle Dean's face in one of your hands. “No,” escaped firmly from your lips that were stuck in a hellish smile, fully displaying almost pointed teeth, like that of the many monsters you had all killed together.

The fear that followed your statement caught you off guard. Sam, Cas, and Crowley all flinched at your answer and Dean fell apart.

“Please,” the pleading returned. Dean looked about ready to beg you from his knees.

“I do not want revenge. I want justice. Congratulations, I don’t want to kill you any more than I want to kill anyone else at the moment. I want you to look at me and see what I am. I want you to know what you did. I want you to understand I screamed, and cried, and begged for each of you to save me. I want you to know that I held onto hope for so long,” the tears began to escape from your blackened eyes, “I thought you would come for me. I thought you cared! But you left me, never thought about me. You didn’t give any part of it a second thought. So this is punishment fit for the crime. I am a demon,” you looked at Dean, “I am not your friend,” you looked at Castiel, “I am not Y/n,” you looked at Sam, “and one day I rip this Kingdom from your grasp,” you looked at Crowley, and stepped back to view them all, “most importantly, none of this is personal. You left me behind, now I’m leaving you. You will forever recognize that you messed up and I will always be a reminder of your guilt. You are nothing to me, even if I am something to you.”

You began to walk off, reaching for the handle of the doors you had walked through earlier. You spared only one glance back before walking out, making one final blow, “goodbye boys.” After that, you simply disappeared.

—

“Your majesty,” the demon croaked out in fear.

“What?!” you snapped at your underling as you looked up from the scattered plans of hell and general paperwork. The demon shook under your gaze. It concerned you at times that your demons feared you so much. You were more of a force to be reckoned with than Crowley and he had been a demon for far longer than you had. The cruelty wasn’t what you wanted. You had hoped the damage done to your soul hadn’t changed you as much as it obviously did, but you supposed that was just your luck. “I apologize for my brashness, Anthony. I’m simply busy and stressed. Now tell me, what is the matter?” you looked at the demon before you with as much care as a demon can have for their personal assistant in a strictly platonic way.

“I’m afraid the Winchesters wish to see you. The short one is in the palace with his angel,” he told you still wary of your scrutiny.

“Here… in Hell?” you questioned. Anthony nodded, swallowing down his hesitance.

“They threatened to start killing your people if you refuse,” he said.

“Ahh, send them in then,” you told the demon, “make sure they know that if any harm comes to you I will be far less willing to even give them the time of day once they arrive.”

With another small nod, he walked off to collect Dean and Castiel. It had been a year since you had last seen any one of your old ex-friends. Hopefully, they would leave you alone if you showed little interest in their affairs.

As quickly as he left, Anthony seemed to return. Dean and Castiel were in tow, following behind the demon. You raised your brows at your loyal subject asking him if he was alright. As always Anthony kept it short with a brief nod before gesturing toward the door. You responded curtly back. Neither of you needed words to truly understand the other when it came to such dealings.

“You seem to be doing well down here,” Dean said, rocking on his feet, a telltale sign that he was uncertain and needed to calm his nerves somehow.

“Yes, I suppose us demons just have a knack when it comes to Hell,” Dean paled at the distance of your voice. It still destroyed him that this was you now. All he saw was your body, but it wasn’t you inside, not the you that had been like a younger sibling to him.

You asked Dean what he was doing here, but he did not respond.

“Dean,” Cas said.

“Yeah.”

“I asked what you wanted,” you said again, this time he was actually aware.

“Oh,” Dean was certainly out of it. Even Cas seemed to be affected by your voice. He tried to show it less, but Dean looked struck. If you had any empathy for them you would have felt bad. But you had none.

“Look,” you turned to actually face them, abandoning your work, “I’m not unreasonable, and I doubt this is a social call. I know that most of what you do tends to keep newer, larger, and more concerning players off the board. So what can I do for you so I can get back to my job and you can get back to yours?”

“We need help,” Dean replied.

“We need to find the angel tablet,” Castiel said. He seemed off somehow, even just slightly. He felt off too. It could have just been your new keen magic skills. You had recently been looking into seer magic and empaths.

“Oh,” you let out, leaning back into your throne, “Sorry, little above my level at the moment. I can get you a referral though. May I ask why you need this specific artifact?”

“So you’ve heard of it?” Dean pressed, stepping closer. Your eyes flitted black and he took a cautionary step back.

“I’m afraid I don’t let demon hunters and their angel friends too close, out of self-preservation. As for hearing of it, yes, I have. Let’s just say some information trickled down from Crowley’s kingdom.”

“Is this not all his Kingdom?” Castiel’s head cocked to the side.

“For the moment. It’s always healthy to have some respectable competition.”

“Who would this ‘referral’ be?” Dean used air quotes awaiting his likely disappointment.

“Ah,” you sighed, “I had a feeling you would ask that. Sadly, Crowley would likely know more than I would.”

“Crowley isn’t going to let us anywhere near him,” Dean argued.

“Well, that isn’t my problem. I’m not the one mucking around in other people’s business, now am I?”

“Y/n-” Cas started.

“It’s Belial or your majesty, angel,” you barked.

“I apologize, Belial,” Cas looked devastated. Fuck, what was that pang in your heart? Why did it hurt so much?

“He won’t talk to us. Not while he has the demon tablet,” Dean tried to present his case.

“Yes, and that has to be the one thing he is actually doing well at the moment, keeping it away from you, good for him. Now if that is all then respectfully, get out of my palace.”

“Thank you, Belial.”

“Cas we can’t just-”

“We can and we will, Dean,” the angel as always responded firmly and apathetically. Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder ready to fly out of your throne room.

“Castiel,” you said, your voice louder than it had been before that it echoed around the room.

The angel did nothing more than look at you expectantly. “Be careful, I don’t believe any of this is going to end well for you.”

“I will be fine,” he said.

“No, angel, I mean it. I have this feeling, watch out, please,” this was the closest you had ever been to who you used to be.

“Okay.”

—

“You, you helped me, why? I- you said you wouldn’t,” Crowley fumbled as you freed him of his restraints.

“Trust me, it’s not personal. You’re just easier to overthrow than Lucifer. So, as many say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” The locks clicked, releasing the demon crouched beneath you. You dropped the chains to the floor and pointed back and forth between the two of you, “This little alliance will only last till Lucifer is back in his cage. After that, I will go back to ignoring your existence, other than me trying to take over Hell.”

“Well, I can’t say that isn’t logical. I suppose I’ll make do,” Crowley rubbed his wrists.

“There is no making due. Neither of us wants Lucifer in charge of anything. That would be bad for both of us.”

“Why is that so bad for you?” Crowley looked at you with curiosity in his eyes, “You want to ignore me forever. You wish the same for the Winchesters and Castiel. So why would joining Lucifer and letting him kill us to be so bad?”

“I-” your loss for words was concerning to Crowley when it came to this form of you. The demon you was hard to throw off their game.

“Well?” He egged you on.

“How could you ever think that I want you dead?” your voice was low, as was your gaze. You avoided looking at him. Keeping your voice steady was harder than you expected.

It was Crowley’s turn to be at a loss for words. From the start, he had thought you wanted revenge as much as you claimed you didn’t. You were a demon after all, and you thought he and the others had wronged you. He fully expected you to fantasize about each of their ends.

Finally, your eyes found his face. He never thought he would see them as broken and hurt. The glossiness of your tears was begging to spill over. “You scare me. But never, ever believe that I want you dead. I can’t trust you. I can’t be around you, because I am afraid. Because I know if I have to I’d do it all again. Seventy-five years of torture to make me hate all of you, and only three to make me care for you enough to screw myself again. Fear is an incredible tool for motivation. So yes, I’m afraid of what Lucifer will do to me, but I am just as afraid of what Lucifer will do to you.”

——

“So you're the little demon ex-hunter Fergus is obsessed with?” the red-headed witch mewled.

“If you are asking rhetorically then you likely already know,” the answer was monotonous.

“I see why he likes you so much, this body of yours is most certainly a looker. You’re also far more mature and intelligent than the other demons.”

“Back off posh female Ron Weasley.”

“I’m afraid I don't know who that is.”

You rolled your eyes as she followed you like a dog seeking attention.

“Now, as I’m sure you’re aware, your son and I are not on speaking terms. Whatever he says to you about me does not pique my interest or concern,” you turned to walk away from the witch.

“What about the fact that there’s a human pregnant with Lucifer’s child,” her voice was smug, but her words made you stand straight. “I see that caught your attention, darling.”

“You have 10 minutes to tell me everything I need to know before I leave,” you growled at her, your black eyes attempting to bring fear into her soul.

“Well, that should be more than enough time. Once I finish with all the boring stuff, we can chat. My name's Rowena by the way. You should probably know that considering how much Fergus talks about you. With his enthusiasm I’ll one day be your mother-in-law.”

“I doubt it, considering,” you mocked her and gestured to your eyes. “Either way, as much as Crowley may talk about me, he most certainly talked about you.”

“All good things I hope,” she smiled at you. It was as if every gesture of hers and every action was manipulative by nature. You understood his hatred for her, she didn’t have a genuine bone in her body. You hoped for Crowley that would change, but at the same time, you wished she would finally let him go. He was far too caught up on the woman that never loved him the way she should have. But you would never tell him that, or anyone for the matter.

“Nope, even if there was any good to share, it would never have mattered, not based on everything else he told me about you.”

“Well,” she looked at you, for once appearing less devious, “I hope I can change that.”

“You can’t, and even if you technically could, it wouldn’t mean anything, because once more, I don’t care and I never will.”

———

Juliet nudged your leg. You were situated at the table in the bunker’s library. For the past year, you have riddled yourself with vigorous research and learning. You had been impressive before all of this, but with the extra reading and practice on spells, you were more powerful than you ever really imagined. You were more powerful than Sam, Dean, or Castiel ever expected you to become. It wasn’t necessarily healthy, but considering the track records of each of your respective companions, you were doing much better.

The gorgeous black-coated supernatural dog whined a little to fully grasp your attention away from the article you were reading titled, He-Wolf/She-Wolf: a Study of Werewolf Transgenderism. You had honestly been curious about the intersectionalities of the two, but after a couple of pages in the read became more of one for pleasure than one for research. As much as you found it interesting it didn’t aid you in any of your studies. Still, you thoroughly enjoyed it, even bringing it up in conversation with the Winchesters and Cas when they talked to you.

Placing down the paper you looked up at the adorable now one-year-old you had taken under your demonic metaphorical wing. Jack was the sweetest little antichrist you had ever seen.

“Hey kid, whatcha doing?”

He didn’t look happy, in fact, he looked unhappy and a little guilty. It made you sad to see him upset, after all, he was your one and only nephew, and you loved him dearly. He was the only reason you stayed around so much. The others you could care less about, but you’d damn yourself again for the boy before you. Juliet could sense his emotions as well, and ventured slowly over to the son of Lucifer. She gently brushed against the kid's leg. Without a thought, the boy petted the Hell Hound.

“Jack,” your voice was laced with concern, “is everything okay? Did something happen?” The boy looked away with sad eyes and the slightest pout, “come on kid it’s your birthday, you can’t wallow in your negative emotions with me around, not today.”

“Do you blame me?” he asked, looking back at you with tears in his eyes.

“Jack,” your voice broke as you stood up to embrace him, “of course, I don’t, whatever would I blame you for?”

Before you could reach him, he stepped back.

“Jack,” with every second you grew more worried.

“Because it’s my fault. Crowley would be alive if I had never been-“

“No,” you said firmly. But Jack only flinched. You didn’t waste time this go around, immediately engulfing him in a hug. “Don’t say that kid, don’t say that. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. I could never blame you, and either way, it wasn’t your fault. It was Lucifer’s and mine and Sam’s and Dean’s and Cas’ and Crowley’s. We all knew what we were up against, but you kiddo, you couldn’t possibly be at fault for anything that happened that day. I just got a little unlucky alright, the best thing that ever happened to me occurred on the same day that one of the worst things that have ever happened to me did. I love you, Jack, I love you, and I can tell you without a doubt none of it was your fault, but most importantly, none of it was your responsibility.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried into your shoulder as he gripped you right.

“Shhh, shhh, you have nothing to be sorry for,” you patted his head softly.

“I just-I just know how hard today must be for you. I know how hard it is for Sam and Dean to look at me- I”

You pulled away, but only slightly. With precise movements you wiped the tears in his cheeks away, “It could never be hard for me to look at you, unless,” your voice cracked, “unless something happened to you, I- I love you, Jack. You're my nephew, you're the person I care about the most, okay? You could never make me truly mad or upset with you.”

Jack nodded the tears in his eyes finally slowing down, “I never wanted anyone to get hurt.”

“I know, Cas knows, Sam knows, Dean is getting there, and he should have already gotten there okay? Dean- Dean just- don’t let him get to you kid.”

“He has every right to-”

“He has no right,” you said clearly to Jack, “he has no right.”

“Thank you,” he sniffled.

“Always, kiddo.”

“I um- I found these,” he showed you the old photos of you and Crowley before you had become a demon. You carefully took them from his hands, avoiding looking at the photos of the two of you. It was a mystery as to how Jack found these, considering that you hid them away from prying eyes because you yourself refused to look at them.

———

“Get off my throne,” you growled at the witch.

“Ah,” Rowena smiled brightly, “Y/n, I’ve been waiting for you to show up. How have you been?”

“I was doing fine until I heard you're quite non-demonic arse was sitting on the freaking throne of Hell! You are not a demon, Rowena, what in the name of my goddamn sanity are you doing?”

“Just filling in the position. No one else took a grab at it,” her nonchalance was really starting to piss you off.

“Fuck off, Rowena,” the witch gasped shocked at you and your words.

“That is no way to speak to your, Queen, or a friend for the matter,” she held a hand to her chest.

“Get off the throne,” you spoke through gritted teeth, eyes blackened, and voice course.

“Darling-” Rowena had yet to move.

“Get off his Throne!” your voice amplified at your outburst. Dark magic encircled you, inky black coils, spreading out from your body. Tears escaped your eyes with the same fervor and enthusiasm as Lucifer escaping the cage.

Rowena wasted no time bounding from the throne and to you. You were so lost, so without focus.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, Darling. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay, everything is going to be okay. Shush child, let it out, let it out,” she tried to soothe you. To your surprise, it somewhat worked. She had calmed your angered state, but you were still a sobbing mess on the floor. With careful and caring intent she gracefully brushed your hair with her fingers, humming sweet melodies.

It felt like hours, hours of Crowley’s mother combing your hair softly swaddling you and your grief. “It’s alright, Darling,” she cradled your face in her soft, deadly hands, brushing away stray tears that hadn’t been caught by the fabric of her skirt. “I suppose, well I suppose, Hell could always use another monarch, don’t you think? You would be a wonderful ally, you would make a wonderful leader.”

“Why couldn’t it be me? If I’d just- If I’d just told him that I, that I, that I lov-” your body broke down again, your throat aching for the sobbing to stop. Your eyes pleaded with you to stop mass-producing tears, but your heart couldn’t handle the hurt.

———

Your heart was doing better at handling it now. You sat beside, Rowena. Two thrones, two leaders of Hell, one King, and one Queen. All demons respected you, followed you, and were loyal to you.

You were the only demon that resented you for sitting on that damned throne. But that was only half the time. When you felt this way, it was often that those you still had around distracted you from those thoughts or blatantly told you how wrong they were. Sam often joined the both of you in Hell, enjoying his time with you and Rowena. Jack seemed to become like Rowena’s grandchild. She constantly taught him new things you had to reteach him about because of her adverse teaching style. Somehow out of the two of you, it was the demon that had the better grasp on morals. Castiel typically stopped by to grab Jack from your palace or frequented your palace with Dean. As always the two were as close as ever.

Those two and Sam were practically Jack’s three dads. Dean had finally moved on from what had occurred between Jack and his mother. The idiot even apologized to Jack after all the shit he put the poor kid through. Like the bright little ball of sunshine he was, Jack forgave him instantly, despite you telling him that he didn’t have to accept the apology right away or at face value. Jack let your concerns roll off of him, telling you he knew Dean was being sincere.

It took you longer to forgive Dean. The hunter even tried apologizing to you. It left you a laughing mess because you couldn’t fathom what warranted his empty words. You had heard Dean say it himself, that he often apologized to Sam without even meaning it. With time and patience, you moved past his ignorance, realizing some of your own. It was often demons get bitter, your negative emotions heightened, and your positive ones lessened. One day when he and Castiel had come to pick up Jack you extended the olive branch necessary to replenish as much of your friendship as possible. Dean gladly accepted your offer, stating he would love to have your help on cases, whether it be research or the actual hunt. With a smile on your face, your gaze moved to the incredible Nephilim you had helped raise standing beside his chosen father. Your only last hope for all of them being that Dean finally confesses to Castiel as well.

The smile remained on your face for the rest of the day. Despite not needing sleep you were preparing to go to bed. The cell phone you had been gifted by the hunter brothers rang throughout your room just as you were moving aside your covers. Reaching over you received a nice greeting from Sam. It seemed Dean had told Sam what you had said earlier that day. Snapping your fingers, your cozy fleece pajamas were swapped for your preferred choice of royal attire. A quick swoosh and you appeared at the library in the Men of Letters base.

———

You didn’t like this one bit. In fact, you dreaded this quite a lot.

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uwingdispatch · 2 years

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Notes: Cassian Andor/Reader, everyone lives au, post-rebellion, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, disabled reader, domestic fluff

CW: PTSD, chronic illness, disability, implied sexual intimacy, mention of alcohol

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

You were surprised when you woke to find Cassian gone, a note on the counter to let you know he had to go off-world for something unexpected. But that he’d be home tonight, tomorrow at the latest.

“This doesn’t sound good,” you say to yourself before the patio door opens behind you and you find that Cassian has left Kay behind.

“You’re awake,” Kay says. “Arseven and I were tending to the garden. The berries along the fence should be ripe soon—”

You cut the droid off “Where is he?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“He doesn’t want you involved.”

“And he left you home, what, to take care of me?”

Arseven comes through the patio door carrying a basket of fresh vegetables, which she hands to Kay before tapping your leg with one of her little arms, whistling and beeping: I take care of you.

Your heart is beating faster now and you pour yourself a glass of water if only to have something to do with your hands.

“Cassian said I wouldn’t be welcome where he’s going,” Kay says in his usual dry tone. “But I’m not particularly welcome on this planet either, am I?”

Like most days, Kay is wearing a scarf. This one is woven cotton, red and black—something you’d picked up at a local market. You’d given Kay his first scarf not long after you’d started dating Cassian. It was a way for him to signal his independence to the galaxy. To let folks know he wasn’t a danger to them.

“Where is he?” you ask again. “Do I need to be worried?”

You realize Cassian’s jacket—the one with the Rebellion starbird on the shoulder—is hanging on the hook by the door. Where it’s supposed to be. But he never hangs it there. It’s always slung over a chair or the back of the couch. You reach into the pockets of the jacket and pull out his com device.

You hold it up for Kay to see. “What the hell is going on?” you ask.

Arseven chirps at Kay, whistles low. Share why.

“You, too, Seven?”

“She only knows what I’m going to tell you,” Kay says. “A childhood friend of his asked for help. He didn’t know this person was even alive and is worried that it may be a trap. But he felt he had to try.”

“And you let him go?”

“I told him it was a bad idea.”

You feel tears in your eyes. Cassian has told you so many times that he’s not a soldier anymore. Not a spy. Recently you’ve realized he doesn’t even carry a blaster anymore—not most of the time. You go to the garage and punch in the code on the weapons locker, finding it nearly empty. Where could he be that he can’t bring Kay or his com but needs to be heavily armed? Cassian has seen some of the most lawless places in the galaxy, and your heart hurts to think that that’s the kind of place where he might be right now.

“Do you need a hug?” Kay asks.

You turn to the droid, almost as if to check that this is the same K-X droid you’ve been sharing your life with for the past several years. He’s holding his arms out, and it seems so unusual, this posture.

“Since when do you do hugging?”

“Cassian said I had to.”

But you do need a hug, so you let Kay wrap his metal arms around you.

“Can you contact him?”

“Cassian is currently out of range.”

You take a deep breath in, slowly let it out.

Arseven lets out a series of whistles and beeps. Need an activity.

“You’re right,” you say. “There’s something I need to finish, and today is a better day than most to get it done.”

Seven is already rolling into your office—a room that you and Cassian had recently transformed into a space that could almost also serve as something of a studio. Your sewing machine is out on one of the tables, and when you get to it, Seven is already pulling the pieces of your project from a drawer.

“When he does get home,” you tell Seven, “I’m going to be so angry with him. I’m already angry. But it will be worse for him, won’t it? Whatever he’s doing…it sounds overwhelming. Maybe it will be nice for him to have something soft, something that brings back good memories.”

Seven projects the photo of the stuffed bantha, one exactly like the one his mother had given him when he was young, a toy he kept into his adulthood, before things got…complicated. The events that transpired between when he left home and when he joined the rebellion weren’t something he ever really talked about with you. But a few months back, after a few glasses of wine, Cassian saw the toy in an old holofilm, his breath hitching slightly as he said he’d had the same one, that he kept it on a shelf in his room even after he outgrew plush toys.

Arseven pats one of her tiny arms on your materials and chirps: Perfect replica.

“I don’t know about that, Seven,” you said, holding the yet-to-be stuffed toy in you hands, your fingers aching to know if this was the right fabric to choose. Is it too soft? Not soft enough? “It’s not perfect. But it might be close.”

You were startled awake by the sound of someone pounding on your door, your heart already racing when you sat straight up on the sofa. You’d been reading a book last you remembered, maybe resting your eyes a little. And now it sounded like there was a tornado in the hallway outside your apartment.

“I’m coming,” you yelled, easing yourself off the couch as quickly as you could despite the stiff ache in your joints.

When you opened the door, you found Cassian looking disheveled in a hoodie and jeans. He swept you into his arms, kissed your forehead, squeezing you tight as he said, “Thank kriff, I was so worried.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Last night you told me you were feeling strange,” he said. “So when you weren’t answering your com—it’s not like you. I couldn’t stop thinking that maybe you were hurt…or that maybe something—”

“Slow down,” you told him. He released his grip, perhaps just now realizing how tightly he was holding you, giving you the space to take his face in your hands. You swept his messy hair out from out of his eyes. “Look at me. I’m okay. My com link has just been acting up, remember?”

“I remember now.” He pressed his forehead to yours and sighed.

It had only been nine months or so since you’d met Cassian, and there were times when this kind of intensity was a lot for you. But today you didn’t mind. And you lead him to the sofa where you wrapped a blanket around the both of you, cuddling into his chest.

“I just need a new com device,” you said. “And I’m going to get one after I finish work tomorrow.

You sat in the quiet for a while, the sound of children playing outside your building the only thing you could hear other than his heartbeat.

“You get dizzy when you panic,” he said. “When I was on Coruscant for work last month—”

Your anxiety had spiraled after a difficult doctor’s visit followed by a bumpy cab ride home and you’d ended up fainting in your kitchen. It had only been for a second but the way you’d crashed into a chair had left a nasty bruise on your hip.

“I can’t control it. When my body starts in that direction, I just have to try not to fall.”

“I know it’s not your fault,” he said. “I know what it’s like. But I have Kay.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “My heart, I never want you to be hurt and alone ever again.”

“You know, I’ve been alone for a long time, Cass.”

“Not anymore,” he whispered.

He kissed you softly, cradling your jaw in his hand. Something unwound in you as you threaded your fingers through his soft hair, a letting go of trepidation, somehow knowing that if there had ever been any turning back from falling hard for this man, that offramp was no longer an option.

“I never thought I’d let myself get this close to someone again.” Cassian said.

“I’m glad you did,” you replied.

“I should explain.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he said, stroking your cheek. “There were a lot of times that I should have been there for people. People who cared about me even when I was at my worst.” His voice was low and he took a deep breath as he almost unconsciously began to caress your sore back. And then he laughed—a familiar laugh not of joy but discomfort. “I think sometimes about how my mother wouldn’t even turn the heat on unless I was home to make sure she did. And there were a lot of times when I wasn’t home.”

You laid your head back down on his chest and he wrapped both arms around you. Neither of you was particularly good at this kind of conversation. So you listened to the steady beat of his heart as he kissed the top of your head.

“It’s terrifying, isn’t it?” you asked.

“What is?”

“This closeness. How you’ve allowed me to really know you, and to have you. But I know some of the things you did during the war. I try not to think about it but there are definitely beings out there who wish you harm. You might have Kay, but every time you go off-planet I worry that something—”

“Listen to me, my heart” he said. “There is no one in this galaxy that could keep me from coming home to you. Do you understand me?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I will make it that simple.”

When you saw the look in his eyes, you believed him.

It’s after dark when you hear Cassian’s landspeeder pull into the garage, the back door clicking shut, a bag dropping with some weight to the floor. You’re in your office cleaning up, but Cassian is apologizing while he’s still in the kitchen, an ache in his voice apparent as he calls your name.

“I know you’re upset with me,” he says, “but I’m ready to make it up to you, if you’ll allow it.”

You’re standing in the hallway when he sees you, stopping abruptly, beginning his nervous habit of running a hand through his hair only to find he’s tied it back. Even in the dim evening light, you spot an oil stain on the henley he’s wearing, a tear on the sleeve near his elbow that, upon further scrutiny, looks like a blaster burn.

“You were shot at today,” you say.

He rolls up the sleeve and peels back a bacta patch to reveal a small wound that’s mostly healed. “Just a graze,” he says. “My heart, I promise, it’s over.”

“Don’t,” you say. “Not tonight.”

Cassian nods, averting his eyes, eventually saying softly, “I understand.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “Come here.”

He sweeps you into his arms, kissing your hair, your cheek, your neck as he cradles your head against his shoulder. “If there had been any other way.”

“I know.” It’s hard to be angry when you’ve also spent your whole day afraid for him, and now he’s here, holding you tight, an injury perhaps his own natural consequence.

“Where’s Kay?”

“You know how he gets when he has to keep secrets from me—I sent him and Seven on an errand. He’ll be back soon, but you should let him know you’re home if you haven’t already.”

“Right,” he says. “Let me go get my com.”

You settle into the sofa, doing your best to hold back tears. As hard as this is for you, you don’t know what it’s like to have everyone you love taken away from you over and over and over again. To feel like you are responsible for this loss. Cassian has done so much work to heal over the last ten years. But he’s still a man. Whatever he did today, he is carrying it and so much more with him right now.

When he sits next to you on the sofa, he has a blanket with him—it looks like the one he usually keeps for you on his U-Wing.

“You took your own ship today?”

“No,” he says. “But I know how much you love that blanket, I thought you might like one for the house. So I made a stop on the way back, found that artist’s stall.”

He’s pulling you toward him, the blanket wrapped around the both of you when he sees what you’ve set on the living room table for him to find.

“Where did you get that?” he asks, almost panicked for a split second before remembering where he is

“The toy?” you ask, “I made it. It’s not exactly the same, but—”

He reaches for it, taking it in both hands, his fingers running carefully over the different fabrics, the little button eyes.

“Thought you might need a nice memory tonight,” you said. “Even if I’m angry. I know this probably wasn’t an easy day for you.”

“You made this today?” He asks, not taking his eyes off of the plush bantha in his hands.

“I started it a while back,” you said. “But I needed a project today, so I finished it.”

He has tears in his eyes when he looks at you and asks, “I know today was hell for you. Why are you so good to me?”

“Cassian,” you say, “even on our worst days, you’re still everything to me.”

“This is…so much,” he says, struggling for words. “This means…just so much.”

“We’ll talk about today when you’re ready. Right now—”

“Right now I hope you’ll just let me take care of you,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Have you eaten?”

“I thought we could order something when you got home.”

“Okay,” he says, putting the little bantha back on the table. “I’m here. And I don’t care if you want dumplings from Tatooine. You will have them.”

Cassian had come to know your kitchen as well as he knew his in the last few months and was now sautéing vegetables on your stove, having insisted on making you dinner. You’d been a bit surprised the first time he’d cooked for you—he hadn’t seemed like the kind of man who would know how to follow a recipe, let alone work without one. He’d made a quick trip to the local grocer and come back with ingredients for one of your favorite comfort meals.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help?” you called from your cozy spot on the couch. “I don’t think I’ve even done dishes this week.”

“It’s taken care of,” he said. “After scaring you like that it’s the least I can do. Your neighbors probably think I’m a maniac.”

“They can think what they want. I know who you are.”

He added the vegetables to a large pan, which he then placed in the oven before joining you on the sofa.

“You do, don’t you?” he said.

You took Cassian’s jaw in your hand, caressing his short beard. And he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours for just a moment before kissing you, delicately at first, his lips capturing yours like a promise, before the kiss deepened with a hunger you felt as well, a need to be as physically close as possible to this man.

You ran your hands along the hem of Cassian’s shirt, soon letting your fingers wander over the warm skin of his stomach.

“Right now?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you said. “How long do we have before dinner?”

“Long enough.”

He stood, then pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the sofa and you threw your arms around his neck as you both started down the hall, discarding items of clothing as you went, finally in you bedroom, throwing back the covers and sliding into the sheets together.

“My heart,” Cassian said, his warm brown eyes almost sparkling as he looked at you, almost like he could see your every desire. “I love you so much. And it does frighten me. But I need you to know that there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know,” you said, lacing your fingers through his hair. “I love you, too, Cassian. More than anything.”

When you wake, for a split second you’re on the edge of panic, sitting straight up as you come out of a nightmare with the gut feeling that you’ve found yourself in an empty bed again, Cassian gone, perhaps never coming back.

But then he’s there, his hand gentle on your shoulder as he eases you back into bed. “I’m right here,” he says.

“What?” you ask, still foggy from sleep.

“You were calling my name,” Cassian says, his sleepy eyes looking straight into yours. He pulls you close. “You feel feverish. Were you having a nightmare?”

“It’s a blur,” you say, “but…you were gone again.”

“I’m so sorry, my heart.” He kisses your forehead. “Yesterday…it won’t ever happen again.”

“Can you promise that?”

“I think so.”

“Okay,” You say. “That’s good enough for now.”

When Cassian kisses you, sweet and soft, a calm washes over you and you let yourself melt into him, snuggling back under the sheets as he holds you close.

“Did you find your friend, Cassian?”

“Yes,” he says. “I did.”

“Is he safe now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“But I’d rather focus on you now,” Cassian says, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips. “I am yours. All day. Whatever you want to do.”

This, of course, is a hint that he’s not ready to tell you about his friend, or what happened the day before. Your tuck his hair behind his ear, smoothing out his bedhead, caressing his face before running your fingertips over his shoulders and along his bicep. Recently he’d had a feather tattooed along the inside of his left arm, covering an old injury. It was a feather from a bird native to Kenari—a bird that was likely extinct now along with most creatures from the planet where your husband was born. He is a survivor, and with that, you know, comes a heavy burden.

“I'm just so glad you’re here,” you say.

“So am I, my heart,” He says, easing your head onto his shoulder, kissing your forehead. “The weather has been so nice lately. Do you want to take a picnic to the park? Maybe see what’s going on downtown? I think the waffle cart is open on weekends now.”

“That sounds perfect,” you say, even though a part of you wants to stay in bed with Cassian all day, your bodies close and unshared with the rest of the world.

But soon you’ve found the same grassy spot where Cassian proposed to you all those years ago. It’s early fall in your quadrant of Ralltiir, and it’s hard not to notice the butterflies that are everywhere, stopping in your city briefly on their journey south for the winter. One has perched on Cassian’s knee, and he’s frozen in place so as not to disturb it as it flexes its wings open and closed. You offer the butterfly your finger and it quickly climbs on. You bring it closer to your face so you can better see its colors.

“Is there a creature in the world that doesn’t trust you?” Cassian asks.

“You should have met the tooka-cat when I first took him in,” you tell him as the butterfly takes off into the wind. “He hid in the cupboard under the sink for two weeks. Wanted nothing to do with me.”

“But he came around,” he says.

“So did you.”

You lean into Cassian’s embrace as he tips your chin toward him, kissing you like you’re not in a crowded park. Like it’s the first night he kissed you, just inside the doorway of your old apartment, already perhaps knowing this would be the first kiss of so, so many down the years. With your arms around his neck you run your thumb along your wedding ring, thinking only of how complete your life feels with this man in it, even on the days when he exhausts you.

When he rests his forehead against yours, whisps of his hair tickling your cheeks, he says, “My heart, from the moment you let me in, there was no turning back from you.”

“You’re an extraordinary man, Cassian Andor,” you say. “And you owe me a dessert waffle.”

“I owe you so much more,” he says, rising to his feet and then helping you up off the ground. “But if what you want right now is a waffle, I can make that happen.”

With his arm around your waist, you make your way to your favorite waffle cart, parked just down the street. As you’re about to get in line, Cassian kisses your temple, whispers in your ear, “Thank you for being my home.”

And before you can reply, he captures your lips with his, the smile in his eyes also present in his kiss, and you throw your arms around his neck laughing, the smell of sugar in the air, knowing that whatever unfinished business Cassian is dealing with, whatever lead him to take off without warning yesterday—it will be all right. It might take some time to sort out, but you’ve both seen each other through hard things before. One more hard thing won’t break you.

★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much for reading! I really wanted to write something that somehow incorporated some of the elements we have from the first 5 episodes of Andor. I’m sure episode 6 will break my headcanon again, but that’s fine.I’ll just…edit. I hope this fic makes you feel seen and loved!

I have a taglist now! Sign up here if you want to be tagged in future fics. (And choose if you only want to be tagged for certain characters.) In the meantime, I’m tagging my taglist as well as some folks who have been reblogging my fics. Love y’all!

@writingbylee @waterpancakeao3 @zinzinina @princessxkenobi @aerynwrites@belfry-bat @phoenixhalliwell @r1-sw-lover @laserbrains @darthanakn @lovedbyth3sun @usernamesarebitches @maul-ologue @operation-spot @writeforfandoms @akgracemk @littlemousedroid @strwrs @saveatruckrideoptimusprime @galaxtic-writings @mintpurplemnm @multifandom-fic-rec-blog @septimaseverinafavfanfic @feyredarling92 @againstacecilia @elasticreality @zombiedixon89 @forresway @diaryofkali @alistocats @favficss @themandadolorian

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scotianostra · 11 months

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Happy Birthday Scottish actor Richard Madden born June 18th 1986 in Elderslie.

Richard was raised by his mother, Pat, a classroom assistant and his father, Richard, who worked for the fire service. He also has two sisters, Cara and Lauren.

His parents were “hippies”, he says, and their house was pretty open, with friends always piling in for big vegetarian meals. Madden spent a lot of time outside, in the woods behind their house. He has several injuries: he shows me where he shot his dad’s old air pistol and blew off part of his finger, then managed to wreck the same finger when he nailed a wooden plank to his skateboard, then crashed it, so apart from the Hippie parents it was much like most of our own days as bairns.

Despite growing up wanting to be an actor, Richard was very shy during his childhood. To overcome this, at age 11, he joined Paisley Arts Centre’s youth theatre program. In 1999 he was given the lead role as Sebastian Simpkins in BBC1’s children’s TV comedy series Barmy Aunt Boomerang, that’s him aged 12 in the first pic with co-star Toyah Wilcox.. By 2000, he’d made his feature film debut in the Iain Banks adaptation, Complicity.

After high school he was accepted to the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in Glasgow, Scotland and in 2007, he graduated.

Less than two years later, Richard had a recurring role as Dean McKenzie on the 2009 BBC series Hope Springs. Soon after, he landed the role of Ripley in the 2010 movie Chatroom, a film about a group of teenagers who encourage each other’s bad behaviours after meeting online. In the same year, Richard played punk band Theatre of Hate singer Kirk Brandon in Worried About the Boy, a TV film about the life of British singer-songwriter Boy George.

In 2011 Richard landed his breakthrough role as Robb Stark in the HBO fantasy-drama series Game of Thrones. Also in 2011, he played gay paramedic Ashley Greenwick on the short-lived British comedy-drama Sirens. During hiatus from filming Game of Thrones in 2013, Richard was cast to star as Prince Charming in the 2015 Disney film Cinderella.

Richard won his first Screen Actors Guild award in 2014 for the Discovery Channel mini-series, Klondike. He played Bill Haskell, one of two adventurers who travel to Yukon, Canada during the Klondike Gold Rush in the 1890s. He further enhanced his reputation as a good actor when he appeared in the BBC drama Bodyguard in 2018, the following year he played Lieutenant Joseph Blake in the film 2017 and was Elton John’s manager/lover in the biop of the star Rocketman.

In January 2019 Madden won a prestigious Golden Globe for his role as war veteran David Budd in the BBC show Bodyguard. He also appeared in the 2019 war movie 1917.

We last saw Richard in the movie, Eternals, which was okay, but nothing great, he is one of several actors being touted as the next James Bond,

James is currently in the Amazon Prime series Citadel, I've watched the first three episodes and am not really impressed with it,I think he does pull of the American accent well, but I noticed there have been people saying he doesn't pull it off, Madden revealed he spoke in the accent for two years straight to prepare for the series. The show has been earmarked for a second series. Richard is set to appear in the feature film Killer Heat next.

In July 2019, Madden received an honorary doctorate from his alma mater, the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. When asked about his personal life during a New York Times interview following speculation about his relationships and sexuality, Madden stated: “I just keep my personal life personal.”

Madden was recently named one of ‘Scotland’s Sexiest Men' following a new study that identifies the most attractive features for men, he has competition though, also in the running are Bathgate’s David Tennant and Glasgow’s James McAvoy,

#scotland #scottish #actor #television #cinema #happy birhtday

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mask131 · 7 months

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Another Shining post - this time about the history and past of the Overlook Hotel.

I am one of those people that think the novel and the movie complement each other very well (and we do not talk of the mini-series here). They are two approaches to a same story that do thinks very differently, and in both cases it works. And the point of the past of the Overlook Hotel proves that.

In Kubrick's movie, the past of the Hotel is left purposefully blurred, unclear, untold. We are given in the beginning a few clues and base lines: the famous facts, a possible origin for the hauntings/curse, and the most recent events - but they are not even told by a reliable narrator, rather by a character that was not there and merely retells what he knows. And the movie does not try to make us understand why there are ghosts, or who these ghosts were in life - we do not know how the room 237 got its ghost, we never know who the man performing sexual acts with a person disguised as an animal is, we don't understand why the elevators pour out blood, we are not even sure who these twin girls are supposed to be since they only ambiguously match the description of the Grady girls... There is definitively a history of the Overlook Hotel. There are definitively things that happened and that left their mark on the hotel - the "burned toast". But we only know of the very recent Grady case, and the rest is only hinted at by visuals, context, sounds - the banners hinting the New Years Party, the focus on specific time periods with the outfits and music of the ghosts, the final picture... We feel and instinctively know SOMETHING happened of enough importance that it left a stained on the Overlook, and that this hideous past is surfacing again...

But we do not know what this past is. We are never told what were the crimes perpetrated in the Overlook. We are never told how the ghosts died. There is the rule of "what is untold is even worse and scarier", because you find yourself in the realistic setting of someone stepping by accident onto a ground of unholy and supernatural evil - you don't try to understand where it comes from or how it shaped itself, you mostly try to understand what it is now and HOW TO ESCAPE IT WITH YOUR LIFE. This is all part of the building of the "mystery of the Overlook", because this is what Kubrick's Hotel is, an entire mystery in the most frightening sense, with its ghosts that might be hallucinations due to madness, and its impossible architecture...

Stephen King's novel does the opposite of that. We are given a full and complete history of the Overlook Hotel. We know all the important events that marked it, we are told the identity of almost all the ghosts inside of it, we can make a full chronology easily. And this is actually not just mere exposition but an integral part of the plot, as Jack's madness and obsession with the Hotel in the book relies in his fascination for the Hotel's glorious past, his investigation on the numerous scandals and deaths of the Overlook, and his ambition to write a book about the place. This is a key part of the character's slow and steady fall into madness - and it also serves as a slow preparation for the reader. First we are given spooky visions and creepy jumpscares, then we are slowly being sunk into the dark history of the Hotel and we understand the extent of its curse and corruption - and then it all bursts out as the Hotel "comes to life" for good. The whole explanation of the story serves as a perfect pivotal point between "This is creepy but we don't understand anything" and "Now we know the whole past, and we have to confront what's in the present".

Because this is also very important as to WHY the Overlook's history must be given to us. This allows us to see the corrupting effect of the Hotel over those who "die" there, and makes even more obvious the "absorbed by the hive-mind" logic behind it all. By giving us the full background check of all the Overlook ghosts, King isn't just acting as a "haunted house historian". He also prepares us in understanding what the Overlook does to people: we are given the full story of the woman in room 217. And what do we have of this story? A lonely, sad, depressed woman who wanted to be loved. No angry spirit, no revenge to take, she was no criminal or psycopath. She was just a depressed woman who killed herself because she couldn't face aging, rejection, the betrayal of the one she thought loved her... This is a very sad and dreadfully "mundane" story. And yet what is the ghost waiting in room 217? A being of pure hatred and malevolence, a perverse and frightening rotting entity only concerned with killing a little child in a slow and terrifying way. By giving us the ghost's origins, King actually shows us that the ghosts in the Overlook aren't just the doubles of the person they were in life... But that they are puppets filled by the Hotel's malevolent will - or rather, the "masks" of the Overlook. (This also works for Roger but I'll come back to this later)

And beyond all that - both ways of treating the Hotel's history serves perfectly well the "nightmare confusion" of the Overlook's ghostly apparitions. "Nightmare confusion" as in, the feeling of confusion one gets when in a nightmare. In the movie it is easily done - because the ghostly apparitions throw you within a context and setting you know nothing about, and that yet seems to know and include YOU for some reason, and that has little bits and pieces of things you vaguely know, enough to cause a slight familiarity muddled in the strangeness and foreigness of it all. To those that let themselves sink into it, like Jack at the party, it all instinctively makes sense even though we don't know the how and the why ; to those that refuse it, like Wendy wandering through the halls of the hotel, it only becomes a carnaval of nightmarish and freaky visuals without rhyme or reason.

While in the novel, the confusion comes from how we are perfectly a perfectly organized, very detailed, absolutely complete history of the Overlook with every little era and every important character in their little box... But inside the Overlook it all is swept away in a storm of anachronisms and improbable encounters. Part of the fright of the Overlook's ghosts is that they exist in this strange out-of-time otherworld where people from various decades and time eras suddenly find themselves together, co-existing and participating into a great party that took place before they were even born, or playing the roles of people that had no relationship to them in any way. It isn't just Grady becoming somehow a waiter for Derwent's grand ball ; but it is also this scene where Jack gets confused upon seeing the woman of the room 217 and the gangsters of the Presidential Suite drinking side by side in a bar - the same way the Overlook warps and twists the identities of the spirits inside of it, it also completely discards time and space to only keep the most essential and noteworthy elements that made its being, and all keeps them together, mixed and mashed into one impossible "golden age" or rather "golden night" that never truly existed. To exist outside of time and space is part of the allure and seduction of the Overlook... but it is also one of the frightening aspects of the hotel's dark power. You are invited to a party that never ends... but that you can never leave.

This change when it comes to the storytelling of the Overlook's past is especially important to notice when looking at Kubrick's decisions and focus when adapting King's novel. In the early treatment of the movie, in the first drafts of what would later become the script and was just a very long and detailed plot, in this first shot and first draft of the movie, there was still a very intense focus on Jack researching and discovering the history of the Overlook Hotel - through the "white book". It was lifted from the novel, and such an emphasis was placed on it that the original idea for the movie ending was all about this part of the plot. The original ending was that the white book about the Hotel's history had been left on Jack's table - and as the camera zoomed in, a mysterious white-gloved hand closed the book and took it away. But already in this early treatment there was a decision to still focus on Jack searching the history - but keeping the viewer in the dark about it. For example, there were supposed to be lines and brief views of newspaper articles about the mafia shoot-out at the hotel... without ever explaining or telling why it happened, who was involved or where it took place. There was already this effort of "We are telling you some things... But we are not telling you more." to leave the viewer with the sense that something happened, and the knowledge that something happened, but an incapacity to tell exactly what. This was then taken further in ulterior treatments of the script, as the whole "white book and Jack's research" subplot was cut off - though the white book did survive as a visual Easter egg. You can see its prop on Jack's table next to his typewriter when he is working on his manuscript.

[Note: I wanted originally to make a whole segment discussing "Before the Play", but since this post is already way too long, I'll stop here and keep it for another day.]

To conclude, I will point out one final thing. About King's treatment of the Overlook history. There is a reason why the over-explaining of the hotel's past does NOT kill the mystery of the Overlook in the novel, and that's because King did a perfect imbalance between two things. On one side, the origin of the ghosts and the "haunted house history-check" - explained in every little detail possible. But on the other... the origin of the hauntings? The first incident that kicked it off? How the malevolent consciousness of the hotel appeared? We are never told anything about this. We are told the origin of every vision, every ghost, every trick of the Hotel and yet... the Hotel stays the biggest mystery by the end. Because we are never told when the horror and hauntings began. We are never told what exactly is the nature of the Hotel's "life" and "spirit" - did it formed itself out of all the bad things in it? Did it pre-existed the deaths? Maybe it even was there before the hotel itself... And this is strongly implied by Doctor Sleep - which points out there is something vile and corrupted within the ground itself, but one important thing to remember is that the "Indian burial ground" line of Kubrick's movie is ONLY in the movie. There is no Indian burial ground or Native American anything in the novel. The hotel just happened to be built onto a nice little patch of land nobody had apparently ever lived in or got near... And there was no "big incident" or "start of curse" for the Hotel. Bad things simply started to happen out of nowhere, and ghosts started appearing, and the... thing that gave life to the hotel started its activities. It just happened, and we will never know the how or why because nobody actually has an answer - even the True Knot doesn't know anything about the Overlook's true nature. This was a rule King kept insisting upon in his early days of writing: Sometimes, bad things just happen for no good reason, and that's what makes them even more terrifying. This was perfectly illustrated by his short story about a finger appearing out of the sink of a man one day, all while a TV show keeps repeating again and again the impossible question: "Why do bad things happen to good people?".

And so, in a paradoxal way, Kubrick's movie, by telling us barely anything about the hotel's history, multiplies the possible explanations (First Nation curse, deal with the devil, isolation madness), while King's novel, by over-explaining everything that happened in the hotel, leaves us completely in the dark about what exactly the hotel is or why these things happened, making it even more eerie. You can document and retrace anything concerning human activity... But the Overlook's force is beyond all human records.

#shining #the shining #the overlook hotel #overlook hotel #king's shining #kubrick's shining

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