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constantlyunlightening · 4 years

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Song Bird

Day 9: Cage with Keigo Takami

Other kinks/warnings: None, I think. Pretty straight forward

I cannot explain to you why I have decided to put more emotional baggage inside of a kinktober fic??? Idk. This one is a LOT sweeter than my Enji fic and I wouldn’t even call it angst. I just don’t know how to write Hawks without putting some of that inner turmoil in him. But for the most part, this fic is a sweeter kink one.

I just wanna flirt with Keigo, you guys. He’s my pretty bird T~T

Disclaimer: 18+ only to read. All characters are aged 20+

“Pretty sure it’s the bird that’s supposed to be in the cage, Keigo,” you folded your arms above your head, resting them against the golden metal of the bars that lined the cage. Where Keigo had gotten a human sized bird cage was beyond her, but it was pretty. It reminded you of one of those antique canary cages, just a whole lot bigger. It felt sturdy too as you leaned your weight against the bars, letting your gaze meet an amused Keigo who stood on the other side, twirling the ring of a sparkly key on his finger.

“Aw, come on now, I’ve been caged my whole life. May as well let me know how it feels to be on the other side of things for once.” A snarky grin was painted onto his lips as you made a show of rolling your eyes, pushing off the bars in front of you and instead leaning on the ones behind you. It was only a step or two back. It wasn’t completely restrictive by any means but you certainly didn’t have a ton of wiggle room in here. But the opening between the bars, although not wide enough to allow you to squeeze through, were spread enough apart that you didn’t feel too claustrophobic. "You look so pretty when I know you can’t fly away from me.“

A little extreme, but you were fairly sure he was joking. Keigo had a weird sense of humor once in awhile. He usually came off as sarcastic and casual, but sometimes he’d slip a comment or two in that would just feel… odd. But you were used to it at this point and you knew that a few awkward lines or dark moments didn’t make him a bad person. And so you took the time to give him a sweet smile, reassuring him gently. “As if I would ever want to,” you mused gently and you noted the little extra bit tug upwards on the corners of his lips. “But for real, birdie. Why’d you put me in here?”

When you had gotten home today, Keigo had excitedly pulled you into your room, showing off his latest splurge. You had been a little thrown off at first but your curiosity got the best of you and you had went in closer, inspecting the door, he made a show of pretending to accidentally bump you in there. You knew it wasn’t an accident with the little “whoops” that had melted off his lips, but as he shut and locked the door behind him, it was clear he meant to get you in here. You were just trying to figure out why.

The dark chuckle he sent you in response gave you reason to believe that whatever reason it was, it was something untoward of him. You were down. That low rumble of laughter had a way of melting your core the second you caught the vibrations.

“Spice things up a little? I don’t know. Sounded fun.” He shoved the key to the door in his pocket, hiding it from view before red wings contorted behind him as he slipped them out of his jacket before tossing his coat away, letting you take the time to admire the lean form of his arms. He wasn’t nearly as built as someone like Allmight or Endeavor but you liked the more toned-out look of Hawks anyway. Wasn’t built like a wall maybe, but he wasn’t lacking muscle by any means either. “I figured you’d look cute all trapped for me. And I was right. Makes me wanna play with you.”

He was right about something else too. It did sound kind of fun. In any case, it couldn’t hurt to try it out. But you were a bit too sassy to just give your birdie what he wanted. And, besides, he strived off getting control of a situation on his own. “Better be careful how many games you try and play or I might come out of here seeking revenge. I could just try to come and eat you up,” you hummed, flirtation lacing your voice. You didn’t miss the way marigold eyes darkened at you and he practically licked his lips.

“Don’t tempt me. Now I’m almost wondering if I should have been in the cage instead.”

“It’s not too late to trade out, pretty bird.”

“I said almost.”

He was up against the bars and you before you realized it, his arm shot out through the bar and he grabbed you by the neck, tugging you up to the front of the cage and giving a small squeeze around you.. He wasn’t actually squeezing hard enough to do much more than slow your breathing a little, but the action was enough to leave you staggering with the suddenness of it. His other hand was gripped tight around the bar to keep his face from smashing up against the cage as his eyes drifted to the claw he had on your pretty throat. “You’re cute when you think you’re in charge, but I feel like making it clear who’s calling the shots today.” A tighter grip for just a second before he loosened up almost completely now just using the hold to gingerly keep you in place. You could try and move away but both of you already knew who was faster. Your heart was moving faster now but a flood of heat had already started to blister through you and you met his gaze with a huff.

“When I think I’m in charge?”

“Yeah. It’s only because I let you be,” he retorted simply, and the way he shrugged his shoulders at you almost pissed you off, but as his hand slipped away from your neck and moved slowly down your body, tracing over the contours of your body with feather touches, your emotions were preoccupied. “But still, there’s something different about you being trapped here for me. Nowhere to run.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, his hands dragging up underneath your shirt, letting his hand feel the warmth of your skin as they crawled. “I could do some really bad things to you.”

It wasn’t his usual demeanor and you were torn between being heated and being concerned as he cupped your breasts over your bra, kneading your chest in drawn out motions. In the time you had been dating him, you had figured out that Keigo’s carefree demeanor wasn’t something that was actually all that carefree. There was a lot more anxiety that swam deep under the surface and he was starting to show it to you more and more. You never pushed - you weren’t going to force his feelings out of him - but you couldn’t help but be curious about the baggage he seemed to be holding onto. And the odd lull in his voice right now made you wonder if he was showing you some of that now.

Weird time to reflect, and an even weirder time to try and help as you were being fondled but still. “You could. But you won’t,” you clarified softly as you dragged your shirt up, only to put your hand on top of his, helping him massage your chest, locking your fingers on top of his even as your back arched.

His brows raised just a fraction, you almost missed it. But the way his voice came out with a laugh next, you felt yourself ease a bit. “You sound confident. Be careful, I’m a bad, bad guy ya know?” Another squeeze, this time pushing pressure upwards, before letting go and applying the same attention to the other side.

“No, you’re not. Not to me,” you were ready with your response, as clearly as before. Whatever heavy emotions he carried, you wanted to soothe them in the ways you could. And he seemed to enjoy that response as his wings fluffed out behind him.

That odd air about him was gone now, and he flashed you a smile so predatory that your thighs clenched even as he tugged his hand away, retreating it back to his side.

“Oh, no. I’m a bad guy especially to you.”

You’d didn’t mind this kind of bad at all.

“Take your clothes off for me,” he was cooing now as he folded his arms over his chest and simply waited. You resisted the urge that came to listen. You wanted this man to wreck you, sure. But attitude came first when he was feeling cocky.

“And if I don’t-”

Before you could even finish your words, a single feather darted in between the bars and you squeaked as it nimbly sliced the fabric of your shirt and just barely missed you. “I suppose I can give you some motivation.”

“Hey, I liked this shirt!” You whined even as suddenly you found yourself obliging, the threat of his feathers ripping off your clothes making you tingle. Maybe that’d be an idea for another day when you weren’t particularly fond of your outfit - or locked in a cage.

“Told you I was a bad guy. Now strip. All the way, my cute little captive.” He continued on with a sweet hum, his eyes burning into you as you discarded your wardrobe, letting it pile up on the floor of the cage. He had your body practically memorized and yet he took it in every time like it was the first time he ever got to see you. “Absolutely gorgeous."

When you kicked your panties off of your heels, that’s when you glanced back to Keigo to see him circling his finger, indicating you to turn around with a silent gesture. You weren’t sure how he would motivate you to move if you didn’t listen this time but you didn’t find out. Instead, your body spun to face the other direction for him and he whistled a little tune at the sight of your backside. "Now you’re listening? Cute. Keep it up and I just might reward you for it.” His hand was shot through the cage again and he reached around to grab the front of your thigh and dragged your entire body back so you were backed up against the bars. “Move to your side a little. There you go, right there,” molten heat welled in his voice as he guided you to stand with your center right between two of the bars, giving him a nice view of your ass - “spread your legs” - and your dripping cunt.

He went quiet for a moment, but a rustle behind you and the sound of clinking metal filled the silence. The sound of a belt, the sound of rustling fabric, then he was behind you, with something hard slipping between your legs and gently smacking against the most needy part of your body. “If you don’t wanna fall, bend over and grab the bars in front of you. Better keep that ass pushed back over here though,” he declared as he slid his length back and forth against you, playfully dipping against your hole before sliding back forward. You bit your lip, but in the next moment, you dipped at the waist, getting a grip onto the metal as you pushed the rest of your weight back into your heels, letting the bars make indents against your backside and you gave a whine as his cock sunk into you from between the bars. “I’m about to turn my pretty girl into a song bird.”

#hawks #keigo takami #keigo x reader #bnha smut #kinktober #i love this man so much #but anyway #if all goes to plan ill be double posting today #im thinking either aizawa or shoto #idk

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sunarinluvr · 3 years

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|| haikyuu boys finding you asleep on the couch after an argument ||

includes: kuroo tetsurou, miya osamu, & oikawa tooru

a/n- hello! sorry for posting so late, but this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and i was actually in the mood to finish it so i hope yall enjoy! oh and im not really sure about how i feel about it,,, might take it down later we shall see.

warnings: none ( lmk if there’s anything! )

KUROO -

last night you saw a post kuroo’s “work wife” had made on instagram with her kissing him on the cheek, and it didn’t make you feel the best, so you decided to bring it up to him the next morning. and you did, just as he was getting ready for work you talked to him about it.

you were standing in front of him filled with anger arguing about how it made you uncomfortable, “can you please listen?! i dont feel comfortable with your “work wife” kissing you?” you yelled. “Y/N it was on the cheek its not a big deal!” and to be honest you just wanted to cry.

finally, he walked past you and opened the door. “i don’t have time for this y/n, stop being so insecure! at least she wouldn’t argue over something so small!” and with that, he slammed the door and you stood there stunned. kuroo knew that he shouldn’t have said that, instant regret and guilt filled his gut.

but he already said it, he can’t do anything about it now. with a frustrated sigh, he went to work. hoping to fix everything when he gets home. you stood there speechless, as you realized you still had work so slowly you made your way to the bathroom.

after getting ready and grabbing a quick snack you were out the door with a heavy chest. once you get home, tired and feeling worse than before. you trudged to the couch and plopped down letting out a shaky sigh remembering the argument and the words he said repeating in your head.

you broke down crying, and before you knew it, the exhaustion from today took over and you were sound asleep on the couch. kuroo got home an hour later, he felt guilty and was already practicing how he’d apologize to you as he walked in.“y/n? kitten?” no answer.

he called out again, and was met with silence, he made his way over to the living room where he found you sleeping on the couch. gently walking towards you he knelt down, and saw your tear-stained face which made his heart sink. “i fucked up” he said to himself.

giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead he softly apologized and carried you to the bedroom. you ended up waking up when you felt his body weight dent the bed. “tetsu?” you said softly squinting at him. relief rushes through his body at the sound of his nickname. looking at you with guilt in his eyes

“im so sorry kitten, i shouldn’t have said that. i didn’t mean to hurt you” he said gently. at that tears started flowing again and he was quick to hug you and wipe your tears with his other hand. “it’s ok, i shouldn’t have been so insecure anyways”

he shook his head with a frown “no it’s not your fault ok? i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you so so much and i’m so lucky that you’re mine” you look up at him and gave him a small smile “okay” before cuddling closer to him. giving you a soft kiss on the lips he hugged you tighter as you both fell asleep.

OSAMU -

osamu was just having a horrible day, his head was pounding and the customers he had to deal with today were just plain rude. then he had to do most of the work since one of his employees called in sick, and for some reason, everything just annoyed him.

you on the other hand did not know about his day at all and thought it would be nice of you to make a surprise visit. walking in with a huge smile on your face stopping midway when you realize he wasn’t at the counter. “where’s samu?” you asked sweetly to the employee

“he’s in the back, i think he has a headache,” she says giving you a small smile. you can tell something was off by the way she spoke but decided to just brush it off and make your way to the back. “hi samu! surprise!” you exclaimed cheerfully as you make your way towards him

he just kind of looks at you, which you thought was weird, but you decided to hug him anyways. when he doesn’t hug you back and groan, you pull away and look at him “baby i heard you had a headache. i didn’t bring any medicine, but we could eat first and i-”

you couldn’t even finish your sentence since osamu just stood up. he was infuriated and had no clue why, usually loved listening to you but today he was just annoyed. “look y/n a don’t mean ta be rude, but a don't have the energy for this right now. please just go home.” he said coldly staring right at you.

“excuse me? i came here to surprise you and this is what i get??” you said in shock, voice a little louder this time. rolling his eyes “Oh wow am so surprised! now will ya please go home? a don’t wanna argue right now!” he yelled. with tears forming in your eyes you quickly wiped them and left. osamu knew he shouldn’t have said all that, but he was too mad to run after you in front of all the customers.

you rushed home and sluggishly made your way to your room to change into something comfier, making your way to the couch, curling up into a ball allowing your tears to fall, and somehow falling asleep, after getting tired of crying. he gets home a few hours later, guilt building up in his stomach as he mentally slaps himself for the things he said.

walking into the living room he opened the lights and you were the first thing he noticed. seeing you curled up into a ball on the couch made his heart drop to his stomach. you on the other hand woke up because of the sudden change of lighting.

gradually adjusting your sight you see him and switch your gaze onto the floor when you saw him look at you too. seeing your puffy eyes he walks towards you slowly and sits beside you giving you enough space. “am sorry, a shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on ya.”

you look at him with watery eyes and his heart sinks “yea i was just trying to be nice, sorry i didn’t warn you before coming” he opened his arms and you instinctively scooted closer to him, he sighs “no a love it when you surprise me a was jus having a bad day a love ya so much ok?” finally hugging him “okay i love you too” giving you a quick kiss he offered to make you food and of course you said yes.

OIKAWA -

you love oikawa, and you’re very supportive and understanding especially when it comes to his career. but he has an awful habit of overworking himself and as much as you love him you can't bear the fact that you couldn’t even see him anymore.

he goes home late at night -as in you’re already sound asleep late- and when you do stay up to see him, he’s too tired to even keep a conversation. then the next morning he’s gone before you could even wake up. you’ve spoken to him about this many times, but alas nothing changed.

you woke up to an empty bed as usual, but today was different though, you’ve planned a dinner for about 2 weeks now. you were very excited because it’s been so long since you both spent some quality time together and he promised to come home early.

getting up you send him a little text reminding him of your dinner tonight, with a smile you head on over to the bathroom to get ready for work. once work was over you made a quick visit to the grocery store to buy the ingredients you’ll need to make tonight’s dinner.

quietly humming to yourself while going through each aisle, and double-checking your list to make sure you’re not missing anything while checking your phone here and there. oikawa still hasn’t replied “he must be busy,” you say to yourself as you send him another text about the dinner just in case. after about 30 minutes you get home rushing since it was already late, and immediately getting started on dinner.

once you're done you sat down and waited, and waited, and waited. it's been 4 hours. dinners cold and still no sign of your boyfriend. you decided to call him pissed off that he couldn’t even show up to one dinner, “hello? y/n i can't talk right now i still need to practice”

he said as soon as he picked up. “tooru? did you get my texts? what about dinner, we’ve made plans for this 2 weeks prior! i even-” you were cut off “look just eat without me ok? we can eat again somet-” now it was your turn to cut him off.

“oikawa tooru, you leave the house while i’m asleep and come back when i'm asleep. i just wanted to spend time with you..whatever good luck at practice,” you replied as you hang up. his heart sank when he heard the crack in your voice rushing to his car on his way home to you because he knows he fucked up.

buying your favorite flowers for you on the way home cursing himself and the world for making it traffic at that exact moment. when he got home the first thing he saw was the food and you fast asleep on the couch. he felt a pang of guilt about being late.

“y/n chan?” he said while gently waking you up. you stare at him with red puffy eyes and he hugged you giving you the flowers “im sorry baby, i should’ve prioritized you and our dinner. i promise ill do better” you saw how genuine he was being so you accepted the flowers and hugged him tighter as he offered to reheat the food you made.

reblogs are highly appreciated!

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

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Misread Details: Robert

CW: Dehumanizing language, BBU blanket warning, serial killer/death talk, descriptions of death/abduction/murder, blood, whumper death, some real vague implied noncon references, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper

Part One: Nanda | Part Two: Brute | Part Three: Robert

The Dark Discovery in Robert Weber’s Basement: Box Boy Killer, Part 3

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee

3 days ago

After Part One, where we learned about the mysterious, but possibly entirely natural, death of Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson, and Part Two, where we saw Henry “Brute” Hanlon’s double life lead to his untimely gruesome murder, you see the single thread that connects these two men who otherwise never met, interacted, or even shared a single person in common… a nameless Box Boy, present at the death of Nanda even if he isn’t responsible for it, and the proven killer of Brute.

It’s my theory that this Box Boy may have accidentally killed his legal owner, Nanda, and then picked up a taste for the act and moved on to taking shelter with those he turns into his victims.

With Brute, he simply didn’t know the man had a wife and children and entire other life, and may have assumed no one would come looking for him or recognize his death. With our third individual, Robert Weber, it seems like our Box Boy Serial Killer got in over his head.

I give you… the Accidental Vigilante death of Robert Weber.

You decide if our unknown killer is simply the unluckiest guy in the world or a killer who even now may be somewhere living with - and earning the trust of - his next victim.

One bright and sunny day in the quaint, old-fashioned California town of Rancher’s Rest, Robert Weber was late for work.

Weber worked in a vehicle repair business owned by lifelong “RR” resident Randy Niles, who had known Weber since his childhood and had been his boss since Weber was eighteen years old and fresh out of high school.

Niles, who is now nearly seventy-five and still spends his days in the shop with an Australian Shepherd named Cody and a blind pit bull named Sue keeping him company everywhere he goes, stated that Weber had no living family he knew of beyond his sister in Vermont, and he was just about the closest thing Weber had to a relative just from having known him so long.

“He didn’t have too much to do with his sister,” Randy said in an interview with Unsolved Mysteries. (You can see the interview on the new Netflix reboot of the show! It’s a really good episode, definitely recommend. It’s how I got into this case in the first place.) “Or nobody, really. Just us at work, the guys at the bar, that kinda thing. He was quiet, kept to himself really. You’d never just strike up a chat around town or anything. But he got on just fine with the boys here in the shop. He was a bit of an egghead, too, always going on about this thing or that he’d seen on the news. Little… odd. Little bit off, you might say. But really, who isn’t? In any case, you know, I’d known him since he was a little boy, so he was just Bobby Weber to me.”

Then, of course, one day Robert Weber didn’t show up to work. Randy Niles immediately felt that something was very wrong.

“When nine, nine-thirty came and went and he wasn’t there,” Niles said, “I knew someone needed to go check on him. Bobby showed up for work right on time or ten minutes early, rain or shine, for twenty years. My first thought was maybe he’d had an accident at home, or some kind of, you know, health thing. Almost never called in sick, took one vacation a year, that kinda thing. So I drove right on over there. This would’ve been, oh, probably ten or ten-fifteen when I got to the house. Had my dogs with me, and they never did like Bobby much, but as soon as I opened my door and got out of my truck they just lost their damn minds. Barking, growling, Cody’s hackles were up like you wouldn’t believe. I know it sounds damn crazy, but I’m sure those dogs could smell that evil had been done in that house.”

On camera, Niles goes quiet, here, his gaze slipping away from the interviewer as he scratches at the side of his nose. When he looks back, the hint of good humor that seems to be an eternal part of his expression is gone.

“I didn’t know what Bobby had been up to all this time. None of us knew. I’ve known Bobby Weber his whole life, and I… I had no idea.”

Randy Niles was unable to convince his two dogs to exit the truck, and eventually rolled down the windows to give them some air and a way out if they chose (he is insistent on this point in the Unsolved Mysteries episode - “don’t you dare say I left my dogs locked up in a truck on a sunny day, I sure didn’t - Cody even knows how to pull a door handle if it’s the right kind”) and got out to knock on Robert Weber’s front door.

No one answered.

Niles knocked again. Still no response.

The front door was locked, but Niles was able to locate an unlocked back door into the garage, where he found Weber’s car neatly parked and nothing out of place. However, once he used an interior door in the garage to enter Weber’s home, what he found was so shocking he still struggles to describe it today.

“The, uh. The first thing I saw,” Niles says in the Unsolved Mysteries episode, wiping at his mouth with a handkerchief, “was a cage. Big old cage in the living room. Like a kennel for a big dog, Great Dane or something, except… except, you know, kennels’re usually mostly wire, not that heavy. You can fold ‘em up, put ‘em away. This was… geez. This was pure metal. Bunch of blankets all piled at the bottom, too. Here’s the-... you know, my mind just didn’t want to even make the thought, but I just, I looked at it and-”

In the episode, Niles has to take another moment, here. His eyes grow wet, and his voice is hoarse when he speaks again. “People cage. Bobby had a damn man-sized cage in his living room. That’s when my stomach just fell out. Even then, though, I couldn’t-... I just thought, oh, well, what people get up to in their own homes is their business. But still, I just. I just decided, find Bobby, figure the rest out later. So I kept walking around looking for him.”

Randy Niles continued to call out, hoping to hear Weber’s response, but received none… at first. The radio in the kitchen was playing a local public radio station (“Bobby always hated the country western and classic rock we played at work, he was a big news man, big into classical, jazz, you know.”)

Niles noticed, he says, that the cage next to the couch had a wooden top, as though it were meant to act as a side table, and on that table was a small woven basket. Inside the basket appeared to be several State IDs and Driver’s licenses. Niles took note of this but his first assumption was maybe that Robert Weber had stolen some IDs or something.

Which was technically true, just… not quite the way he thought.

The kitchen, hallway, and all three bedrooms were equally empty of life. Every room was clean, everything neatly in place. Empty bottles of Jameson whiskey, Weber’s favorite brand, were lined up like décor along the mantel, and one half-full bottle was next to two clean, empty glasses on the kitchen table.

Even the beds were perfectly made.

The only thing missing was any sign of Robert Weber himself.

The question of Weber’s whereabouts was answered when Randy Niles heard a sound coming from the open door to Weber’s unfinished dirt basement.

“Like a ghost,” Niles said in his interview. “Just this low moaning sound. Hardly even thought of it as human, you know. But I just-... I called out, ‘Bobby? That you?’ and the moaning got a little louder, like whoever it was was tryin’ to answer. I could still hear my girls in the truck just going nuts, probably worried about me knowing what they maybe could smell even out there. I figured… I figured I’d best call the cops and get them out here. Seemed like a plan. So I picked up my phone and dialed, and then I headed down those basement steps.”

What Randy Niles discovered in Robert Weber’s basement was a dying man, battered and stabbed eight times, lying in a half-dug grave.

Robert Weber had been beaten with the very shovel that had done the digging. The shovel lay off to the side, caked in dirt and blood. Police would find some of Robert Weber’s hair on it, too. Then, the individual who had beaten him had gone back upstairs - blood smears were found on the railing to the stairs - and taken a kitchen knife out of the knife block on the countertop. A bloody fingerprint was found on the side of the knife block. They had then returned to the basement where Weber was stabbed, almost entirely through the stomach and chest, twenty-six times, until the cheap knife simply broke from the force.

Randy Niles admitted in his interview that he became very ill at this time. “From the shock,” He elaborated. “I haven’t been able to smell much since I was in a car wreck when I was young, so I didn’t smell what-... what my girls prob’ly smelled from outside, and what the cops smelled. To me, it was just… just a little off, is all. It was the sight of it that got to me, not the smell. The sight of the-... the hand.”

Behind Robert Weber’s body, the hand of another person was sticking up out of the loose dirt, as though someone was trying to dig their way out.

“I remember… I remember her nail polish was pink. That’s when I got sick, actually, was when I saw that hand with the painted nails. That’s when it just hit me all at once what Bobby had done.”

Randy Niles went back up the stairs and waited for the cops to arrive. Rancher’s Rest is a small town where everybody knows just about everybody else, and Niles was on a first-name basis with every single police officer he spoke to that day and in the days after. He would learn alongside the investigation that Robert Weber was not simply the quiet, intellectual car mechanic he had always seemed.

Instead, Robert Weber was a serial killer whose potential final victim had managed a miraculous, deadly escape.

Robert Weber never answered a single question about his own murder - he never fully regained consciousness and died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. His injuries were simply too severe. His autopsy showed that the cause of death was a stab wound that went deep into his chest and that he was first stabbed only after the beating with the shovel had taken place. Like Brute, most of his stab wounds were applied post-mortem in a rage rather than as part of the killing itself.

Medical examiners also found scratches on Weber’s face and arms, indicating that he had attempted to defend himself - or someone else had attempted to defend themself from him.

So why was Robert Weber killed, and why was there already a body in his basement? Investigators would piece together the story over the following days and weeks from a crime scene that only seemed to become darker and more baffling as time went on.

Excavating the basement was originally thought to be something that would be brief, but after the first body was removed, another one was found beneath it. Then another off to the side of that. And another, although this was simply bones.

Every time the forensics team thought they’d found the last human bone, they dug a little deeper or in a new spot and found more.

Eventually, the remains of twenty-two individuals would be removed from the basement of Robert Weber’s home, not including Weber himself. The oldest located victim was identified as Melinda Traxson, an Iowa woman reported missing by her family after she ran away in March of 1996… more than two decades before Robert Weber didn’t come to work one day.

Investigators are still working to match up every body with a missing persons’ case. For nearly all of them, the cause of death could not be easily ascertained due to the deterioration of the remains, but some showed signs of skull fractures. Identified individuals so far include:

Melinda Traxson, 19, from Iowa, ran away from home in 1996.

Billie Mortimer, 21, disappeared from a day out with friends at Lake Tahoe one year later in the summer of 1997. Her friends went to get lunch from the car after a swim and when they returned, she was gone.

Matthew Ranger, 22, went missing during a road trip to Yellowstone National Park in 1997 (only five months after Billie). His car was found abandoned by the side of the road with a flat tire.

Karl Janssen, 24, a tourist from the Netherlands who was also visiting Yellowstone, disappeared a month after Matthew. Last seen by an employee of the park who witnessed him speaking with another young man and getting into the man’s car. The employee said that the two seemed to be friendly with one another and did not seem like strangers.

Hannah Pointer, 26. She was reported missing in 1999 by her mother after failing to return home from work in Reno, Nevada. This disappearance occurred more than a year after Karl Janssen’s. Investigators would later discover that during this time period, Robert Weber dated a young woman from his hometown and he may not have wanted to risk her finding out what he was doing.

Isaac Jackson, 26, a Rancher’s Rest resident who disappeared after going out to a local bar to see his friend’s band play in 2000. His car was found submerged in a small pond two years later. This is the first time Weber apparently killed anyone close to home. He was actually briefly suspected in Jackson’s death, as he was the last person noted to see Jackson alive, but was cleared of suspicion at the time.

Dustin Swill, 21, who was driving from Colorado to California to visit his sister who had moved to Berras to work for WRU in 2001. He was last seen in a gas station near Yellowstone, where employees noted he spoke to a man who was smoking outside, who gave him a cigarette. When Swill left, employees saw the man put out his cigarette and leave shortly after. They did not find this unusual or noteworthy at the time.

Maria Vargas, 25, a Rancher’s Rest resident who was reported missing in 2002. Her family is intensely private and have shared few details about her, but it is known that her boyfriend at the time suspected Weber, who had attempted to convince her to leave the boyfriend for him and had apparently threatened her. He remained a suspect but there was never enough evidence to charge him.

Jennifer Striker, 28, from who never arrived for an appointment with a realtor in 2011. The long pause between Maria Vargas’s murder and Jennifer’s appeared to be due to Weber keeping a man named Finn Schneider within his home for more than a year after abducting him, as well as Weber serving five years in prison for a violent assault on a man he believed had sold him a defective vehicle. (Schneider was no longer in the home before the assault and prison time.)

Riley Nievelt, 25, was staying at the Big Meadow Campground with six friends during a weeklong vacation in 2012. She vanished while on a trip to purchase supplies. Her cell phone was found on the ground in the parking lot of the Food Lion in Rancher’s Rest, a short and easy drive away. At this time, with multiple individuals vanishing after being seen in Rancher’s Rest or being residents of the town, police begin to suspect and start hunting for a possible serial killer.

Alexander Peterson, 29, was a long-haul driver who vanished while working. He was last seen at a rest stop in 2014 on the California/Nevada state line, and would likely have passed right through Rancher’s Rest on his journey. He was reported missing by his ex-wife in South Dakota when he did not return as scheduled for a custodial visit.

The most recent victim, and owner of the hand that Randy Niles saw sticking up out of the dirt, was Yolanda Pierce, 26. She was a Rancher’s Rest resident with a troubled relationship with her husband, who had stormed out after an argument and was never seen again. She is believed to have died the same day as Robert Weber.

More remains exist but have not yet been identified. If you or anyone you know has a friend or family member who went missing during this time period in or near Rancher’s Rest, Yellowstone National Park, or Death Valley, it may be worth looking into, as those appear to be Robert Weber’s “hunting grounds”.

Disappearances in Yellowstone and Death Valley almost always matched up with Robert taking one of his rare weeklong vacations from work.

When investigators located three large diaries hidden inside a locked box in Weber’s closet, the first two fully filled up and the third nearly two-thirds finished, they found an exhaustively detailed record of Robert Weber’s crimes.

In these records, they discovered Weber’s first three victims were killed within 24 hours of abduction, with the rest being kept alive for longer and longer time periods. It is believed all of them met their end in Robert Weber’s basement.

Diary entries included records of two victims who were not a part of the bodies buried in Weber’s basement, both of whom may still be alive:

Finn Schneider, 19, a German tourist who disappeared in 2003 during a visit to Death Valley. Until Weber’s journals were found, it was believed he had perished in the park and had simply never been found. Robert Weber also visited Death Valley during this time. No one linked the two together. Evidence found in Weber’s home after his death, including the aforementioned diary entries and photographs, shows that Schneider was alive in Weber’s home for nearly sixteen months. It is believed Weber purchased the “human cage” that Randy Niles noticed around this time. The last diary entry that mentions Schneider states that he was “traded” on June 16th, 2005, to an individual only referred to as “Mouse.” What Weber received in exchange is unclear, but he was seen driving a new, custom-painted truck around this time, which he said he bought “from a personal ad” when asked by Niles about it. Schneider has never been found. However, his mother did receive a phone call in 2013 from an individual she believes to be her son, telling her that “Finn” was okay and to stop looking for him.

Our Box Boy, 334235, purchased by Nathaniel Benson years prior, whose whereabouts had been unknown since he murdered Brute Hanlon. Weber believed the Box Boy to be in his early twenties, according to his diary entries, and mentioned that he had picked the Boxie up hitchhiking and had intended to kill him before seeing the barcode on the inside of his left wrist and changing his mind. His diary suggests the Box Boy remained in his possession for roughly a fourteen months prior to Weber’s murder. Police have not released the details of what the Boxie was subjected to during this time, stating only that it is not the public’s interest for this information to be known, and they would like to locate the missing Boxie and interview him about certain details.

Four murders occurred during the time the Boxie was kept by Robert Weber. Weber noted that “the dog helped” with either murder or burial, suggesting that he may have worked as Weber’s accomplice in his terrible crimes.

Is it possible that they bonded over a shared urge to kill? Did the Boxie start a captive and become a companion?

Weber’s diary contained other disturbing facts, as well:

Weber also noted three failed abduction attempts in detail, in 1998, 2004, and 2017. In each he described with incredible precision of memory the appearances and descriptions of each person he failed to capture. He also appeared to do intensive research using their license plates and other information to find out where they lived and who they were. The names of these individuals have been kept quiet for privacy reasons.

Other failed abductions were noted, about one per year, without much detail. Or at least not enough for police officers to know who they were. Nearly all these failures were in one of three locations: Yellowstone National Park, Stanislaus National Forest and nearby campgrounds, and in or near Death Valley.

The last entry in Robert Weber’s diary was penned the day of his death.

NOTE: Weber referred to the Boxie as “the dog” in nearly all his journal entries. His last entry went:

May 6th, 20XX: The dog is pissed about something again. He’s always pissed about something. I think the thing in the basement probably kept him up all night with her caterwauling. He never gets used to the noises they make. God knows I can’t sleep either, at least not well. I’ll handle her tonight, have a drink with the dog after, see if that shuts up his nonsense for a while. Note: missed NPR interview with Senator Carlotta Grant on new leg. about the bb prohibition act. Find that on website later.

Found in Weber’s home, in boxes under his bed, were a series of restraints made of leather, high-quality items that appear to be custom-ordered to specific measurements. These included “gloves” intended to keep someone from being able to claw or scratch in their own defense, five sets of cuffs, a body harness, a leather half-face-mask that police referred to as a “muzzle”, several gags, some of which were deemed to be “designed to cause injury to the inside of the mouth”, and “other assorted items for use in torture and torment”.

You can find some leaked police docs online that go into more detail, but suffice to say they pretty much match the kinds of “toys” found in Nathaniel Benson and Brute Hanlon’s homes, too. And apparently, if you really know where to look, you can find some blurry low-quality photos Weber took, too.

While the items are a bit salacious, they aren’t entirely uncommon in consensual relationships, too, so it’s really not clear if they’re evidence of the Boxie being held against his will or not.

The investigation of the crime scene suggests that at some point after writing his final diary entry, Robert Weber made himself a pizza, which he ate half of and put the rest away in the fridge. His shaving cream and razor were found out on his sink, and Weber’s body was clean-shaven, suggesting he shaved shortly before his death.

He then watched three episodes of Law & Order: SVU. We know this because he texted during this time with his only living relative, the sister in Vermont. Little is known about Weber’s family and childhood, beyond his sister’s recounting of a quiet, strained home life with an overbearing mother and her mention that Robert endured several head injuries as a child and adolescent, including one that hospitalized him for days.

After he finished watching TV, Weber entered the basement and murdered Yolanda Pierce. It is believed he took the Box Boy downstairs with him, either as accomplice or witness. At some point while he was disposing of Yolanda Pierce’s remains, the Boxie became enraged for one reason or another, beat him with a shovel, got the kitchen knife from upstairs and stabbed him to death, and then left the house.

A neighbor remembers hearing odd noises around 3:30 AM and looking out their window to see a shadowy figure walking quickly down the road, but they weren’t able to see well enough to say whether or not the individual matches the description and WRU-provided photos of the Boxie. It does seem reasonable, though, to assume that the neighbor witnessed the Boxie fleeing the scene of the crime.

The Box Boy has never been seen again.

Police are pretty mum about the active investigation into the Box Boy’s whereabouts. I was able to get ahold of one source closely related to a member of the investigative team who said that there’s just not a lot of urgency. “Weber killed nearly two dozen people, just that we know of,” The source said. “The cops are a little bit ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ about the situation. Unless the Boxie comes back to RR, they’re just inclined to let sleeping dogs lie.”

The sense of “let it be someone else’s problem” would be understandable… if this Box Boy weren’t responsible for one other direct murder, possibly two.

Police believe the Boxie has not left California, and is likely to be continuing to survive by engaging in prostitution or perhaps panhandling or some other hidden way of making money. Unconfirmed sightings have been located in three cities in central California, but all of these are unverified and should be taken with a grain of salt.

It’s also possible he hooked up with a pet liberation movement group, in which case he may be hiding out in a safehouse, protected from the consequences of his actions by the pet lib movement’s understandable insistence on total secrecy and anonymity for the Boxies they take in.

If he’s an innocent victim of circumstance, that’s fair.

If he’s a burgeoning serial killer with three victims under his belt and a taste for inflicting terrible violence on those who take him in… well… anyone who gives him shelter may be next.

Is our Boxie a purposeful killer or just supremely, almost incomprehensibly unlucky? Will he kill again? Was he Robert Weber’s accomplice or his victim?

Will he strike again?

Should there be an audit of WRU’s psychological testing on potential sign-ups to see if, perhaps, a Box Boy-wannabe with an urge to kill slipped through the cracks?

What do you think?

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary

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thewatermelloncat · 3 years

Text

The Show Can’t Go On

Summary: With strict parents Rosé is subject to going to theatre rehearsal while sick. Denali thinks it’s a stupid idea and takes matters into her own hands.

Author’s Note: I originally didn’t plan on posting this because I sometimes feel like I write too many sickfics but some lovely people on AO3 encouraged me to write more.

Warnings: None

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Being in the room feels uncomfortable. But Denali knows that no one there is as uncomfortable as Rosé. Which makes sense because it’s uncomfortable because of her.

Not that it’s her fault. The poor girl had taken the day off of school, struck down with a bad cold, only for her parents to bring her in after hours for theatre rehearsal.

There is no doubt that she should still be in bed, where she had texted Denali that she had wanted to stay as she was driven over. But her parents being very influential in the theatre community would have their daughter show up to every rehearsal, regardless of it only being a final read-through of the script – especially seeing that their daughter holds the lead role.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

School rules state that any student on campus should wear their uniform but their teacher hadn’t disciplined her when she’d come in a little late bundled up in hoodie with a jacket thrown over.

Rosé had mumbled a hoarse apology as she made a beeline for a desk at the back of the room. Denali had been a little hurt by her not wanting to sit in the desk she’d saved next to her, but she understood why she’d want to sit alone.

“How are you feeling, Rosé?” Ms Visage had asked her. Rosé’s parents having called to let her know the situation.

“I’ll make it through” she had tried to smile convincingly but it hadn’t worked.

Ms Visage nodded but looked even less convinced than Rosé. Though she said no more on the subject. Rosé’s parents being promenient benefactors of the school’s theatre program, she didn’t find it in her best interest to speak out against their wishes.

From across the room Denali had flicked her what she had hoped to have been a welcoming smile since she hadn’t seen her all day, but it ended up being a tight-lipped smile of sympathy.

Rosé had tried to smile back at her as she pulled out a chair, it was no more convincing than her first. Her eyes sad and tired.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After Ms Visage had outlined the plan for the afternoon and answered questions, they got straight into it, flipping open the pages of their script.

The majority of the cast had memorised most of their script by now and just had them as a backstop in case they forgot. It was light hearted with people laughing when someone messed up their lines before they were encouraged to try again.

Though no one struggles as much with their lines as Rosé.

The girl who could recite a paragraph back to you after only reading it once wasn’t in the room that day. Denali could tell how out of sorts she was, reading most lines from the script despite having recited them to Denali flawlessly without prompt a couple of lunchtimes prior.

Her voice wasn’t so great either. Cracking and at times barely above a whisper before she cleared it behind a fist before continuing through her lines. Though the cast could understand her well enough if they read along the script as a guide while she said them.

“… that’s nothing to sneeze at” –

“Hmpt’chh!”

A cast member’s line is interrupted as Rosé stifles a sneeze between her thumb and forefinger.

“I’m so sorry” she smiles sheepishly as she sniffles against the back of her hand and the room laughs at the irony.

As the laughing continues, Rosé is passed a box of tissues handed over through the cast from Ms Visage’s desk. She nods appreciatively to the last person who handed them to her before taking a few and blowing her nose softly.

“We all right to continue?” Ms Visage calls out when the room is settled. Mostly directed at Rosé who nods.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Really, she wasn’t all right to continue.

From there it only got harder for her to deliver her lines effectively. Sneezing and congested breaths beginning to interrupt her almost constantly. Denali could tell she was getting frustrated as she was forced to stop her lines midsentence to regain her composure.

“Now that’s a deal that seems worth taking” – Rosé pauses to sniff into the back of her hand. “But I guess… but I guess” she repeats the line before her breath hitches and she turns into her elbow, “hih’chh!”

She sniffs as she turns back to the page, immediately starting to read again. “I’ll leave that up to you” she barely gets the line out before she turns away to sneeze again. “Heh’mph,…” she stays shielded behind an elbow, waiting, before she convulses forward again, “hih’tchh!”

“Do you need a minute, Rosé?” Ms Visage interrupts the read-through, concern in both voice and expression.

Rosé nods quickly before pushing herself out of her chair, muttering out a quiet “thank you” as she swiftly exits the room.

Denali’s stomach twists uncomfortably as the door closes behind her and it’s a few seconds before Ms Visage gets the cast back on track.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Three minutes and Denali’s final line for a while goes by and Rosé still hasn’t come back. Worry starts to sink deeper into Denali’s stomach as she fidgets her fingers while staring at the clock. After watching the second hand tick past another minute her eyes move over to meet Ms Visage’s and she is fixed with a particular look.

Denali nods as she knows it’s her go-ahead to follow after Rosé. Without a word she gets up from her desk and makes her way out the door to the bathroom down the hall where she knows Rosé will be.

“Rosé?” she calls out when she steps into the tiled room.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be out this long. I’ll be back in a minute” Rosé explains quickly, looking away from where she had been staring at her reflection in the mirror.

“Rosie” Denali’s sympathetic tone invalidates Rosé’s sentence as she shakes her head at her.

“Denali” Rosé reflects, turning toward her friend with a helpless expression.

“You’re so sick, Rosie” Denali points out although it’s obvious.

Part of Denali had expected Rosé to shake her head and deny it like her parents had taught her to do. So, it shocks her a little as Rosé shakes her head for an entirely different reason.

“I don’t want to do this” Rosé bites at her lip.

“You shouldn’t have to do this” Denali steps forward as tears well in Rosé’s eyes. She’d seldom seen her friend cry and knows that it’s the illness and exhaustion getting to her.

Rosé sniffles as she steps into Denali’s embrace. “I feel really horrible” she admits quietly next to Denali’s ear.

“I know” Denali runs a hand up and down her back to comfort her. “I know.”

Rosé sniffles again as a tear splashes onto Denali’s shoulder.

“Do you think your parents would pick you up if you called them?” Denali asks then pulls away when she feels Rosé shake her head.

“They have some networking thing over drinks that they’re going to” Rosé explains to Denali’s expression of confusion. “They’re going to pick me up on the way back.”

“Do you have a key?” Denali asks.

Rosé nods, brushing the remaining tears from her eyes.

“I’m going to take you home.”

“Denali, we need to stay and” – Rosé is quickly cut off.

“Rosé, you” Denali makes a point of announcing, “need to be in bed.”

Rosé opens her mouth to argue but instead of her introductory breath turning into words, she turns to sneeze heavily into an elbow. “Hih’ishchew!” it bends her double and sets her immediately coughing into her sleeve.

Denali fails to bite back a quiet moan of sympathy. “That just proves my point.”

Rosé says nothing but sniffles as she walks over to the paper towel dispenser and pulls one out to blow her nose. With it thrown in the bin, she leans both her hands on the counter top, closing her eyes and breathing exhaustedly.

“Come on, we’ll go tell Ms Visage” Denali steps up beside her, taking her by the arms.

Rosé sniffles again, not raising her eyes from the floor, and this time listens to Denali and lets her lead her along.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

They step back into a near empty classroom, the rest of the cast let out for a brief intermission. When the door shuts behind them Ms Visage looks up from her desk and Rosé opens her mouth to speak but coughs behind her wrist instead.

“I’m going to take her home” Denali says before Rosé can try to speak again.

Ms Visage nods acceptingly and eyes Rosé worriedly.

“I’m sorry” Rosé rasps before sniffling, pushing both her hands into her pockets.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You did well for even trying to come here today” Ms Visage dismisses. “I’ll call your parents and let them know that I sent you home.”

“Thank you” Rosé says appreciatively, knowing that her parents wouldn’t accept her going home for any other reason.

“Go get your things” Ms Visage sends her off.

Rosé nods with a thick swallow before she makes her way to pick up her script and clear the tissues off her desk. Meanwhile Ms Visage talks with Denali about what she needs to go over in the second half of the script, while Denali grabs her own things.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” Denali nods a goodbye, shouldering her bag.

“I’ll see you then” Ms Visage agrees as the two students make their way to the door. “Oh, and Rosé?” she calls out, making them both stop in their tracks. “I’ll give you an extension for the drama assessment next week. Make sure you get some rest.”

Rosé can’t think of any words to say but she smiles appreciatively with a nod before she and Denali step out the door.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“All set?” Denali turns toward Rosé in the passenger seat as she sticks the key in the ignition.

Rosé nods as she clicks her seatbelt in.

“Hold on, look at me” Denali instructs, noticing a growing flush on Rosé’s cheeks.

She does and Denali reaches out to place the backs of her fingers against her forehead. Making a sound of pity at the heat of her skin, “you have a fever.”

Rosé purses her lips in tight smile as she looks away again.

“Are you cold?”

“Little bit, yeah” Rosé says faintly as if she is just realising the fact.

Denali nods and adjusts the heating at the control panel. “I’ll have you home soon.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Here we are” Denali announces as she pulls up against the curb beside Rosé’s driveway.

Rosé inhales deeply, taking her head away from leaning against the window as Denali slows to a stop and activates the handbrake with finality.

“Home sweet home, yeah?” Denali tries to get a smile out of Rosé and it only just manages to work.

Rosé nods tiredly as she unbuckles her seatbelt and slides out of the car, pulling her keys out of her pocket. With a shaky grip it takes a few goes to insert them into the keyhole and by the time she’s done it, Denali has caught up with her from locking the car.

“How long until your parents get back?” Denali asks.

Rosé stops in the doorway, pulling out her phone to check the time. “Maybe an hour?” her last word is choked out in a cough before she covers some more into an elbow.

“Inside” Denali prompts, whether or not Rosé hears her or not. Taking her by the shoulders and guiding her through the entryway into the kitchen.

By the time they reach the bench, Rosé has regained her breath and moves off to fill a glass of water at the sink.

“Are you crashing in your room or on the couch?” Denali asks as Rosé tentatively sips the contents of the glass.

Mid-swallow, Rosé doesn’t verbalise an answer but she nods her head in the direction of the stairs, signalling to her room. As Rosé puts her glass down, her phone buzzes from the bench and she picks it up.

Habitually Denali’s eyes travel towards the sound but she only gets to read Mum before the good angle of the screen is gone. Then her eyes move to study Rosé, her expression dropping further, before she clicks the lock screen and it goes black as she puts the phone down.

“Denali?” Rosé asks hesitantly and Denali already thinks she knows where this is going. “Can you stay with me… just until they get back?”

“They not happy?” Denali doesn’t even have to guess.

Rosé shakes her head in confirmation, averting her eyes away from her.

Denali purses her lips sadly. Rosé’s parents were a strange kind of strict, lovely people but a bit hard on their daughter when they shouldn’t be. Over time they’d found that they were less so when Rosé had friends over, so Denali’s answer is a no brainer.

“Of course,” she accepts and Rosé smiles appreciatively. “Let’s get you to bed.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She didn’t think they’d be angry, just disappointed, and she isn’t in the mood for a lecture. That is what Rosé had told Denali as she got her settled into bed and tucked beneath the covers. After that it hadn’t been long until she had drifted off to a fitful sleep, waking herself up coughing every now and again. While Denali had settled next to her atop the covers, reading a book that she had found lying at the end of the bed.

True to Rosé’s estimate it was around an hour before the sound of a car pulls into the driveway. At the covers moving beneath her, Denali looks down at Rosé beside her, eyes now open as she shifts nervously.

“It’ll be alright, Rosie” Denali assures her softly. “I’m right here.”

The words of reassurance seem to work as Rosé hums quietly and her eyelids slowly fall closed again. Though they don’t stay closed for long.

A minute later after the sound of footsteps stop climbing the stairs, the door pushes open and more light floods into the dimly lit room.

“Rosé?”

At the sound of her mother’s voice, Rosé opens her eyes and shifts her head to look at her standing in the doorway.

“I know you were worried about your voice not holding out, but you could have stayed to observe” and there is the tone of disappointment Rosé had been expecting.

Before Rosé can even think of a reply, coughs bubble up in her chest and she raises a fist out from her blankets to shield them behind. At her friend sounding so miserable, Denali places a hand comfortingly on her shoulder, tracing small circles with her thumb.

“Oh Denali, didn’t know you were coming over” Denali’s sudden movement is met with a tone of surprise.

“Hi, I’m not staying. Just until you got home” she says brightly before speeling off a partial truth, not taking her hand away from Rosé. “She really isn’t doing well so I wanted to make sure someone stayed with her. I’m surprised it took Ms Visage so long before she sent her home.”

At Denali’s words Rosé’s mother seems to reassess. “Why didn’t you tell us how bad you were feeling?”

“I did” the amount of bite in Rosé’s tone just breaches over subtle.

Her mother cocks a brow at the tone but moves onto address Denali quickly. “Did you want to stay for dinner? It’s a bit late but we’ve brought some back.”

“No, it’s okay” Denali dismisses, shuffling off the bed. “My mums got some waiting for me at home.”

“If you’re sure?”

“I am, but thank you” Denali smiles as she picks up her keys from Rosé’s draws.

“Nali, stay” Rosé begs weakly.

“I don’t want to be a hassle” Denali says hesitantly, but still places her keys back on the draws.

“We wouldn’t offer if we didn’t mean it” Rosé’s mother says and Denali smiles but bites back a laugh, knowing that Rosé would have been about to say the exact same thing.

“Text your mum and I’ll bring something up” the decision is finalised before Denali can speak and Rosé’s mother leaves back down the stairs.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Before Denali knows it, she’s holding a bowl of noodles, sitting cross-legged on the bed, making small talk with Rosé’s mum as she sits at the edge of the mattress. Waiting for the thermometer to beep so Rosé can finally get her dinner which she hadn’t been allowed until her temperature had been taken.

At the shrill tune the thermometer is taken from Rosé’s mouth before she can move and her mother announces “38.2°C.”

“It’s not bad” Rosé notes quietly.

“It’s still a fever, Rosé” her mother warns seriously. Raising a hand to her forehead before Rosé bats it away. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone” she relents before she stands and leaves the room.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Rosé asks Denali, not really in the mood for making conversation.

“Yeah” Denali says, reaching down to pick Rosé’s laptop off the floor beside the bed. “What one?”

“I don’t know, you choose.”

Denali nods as she types in Rosé’s password which she had told her awhile ago and she somehow still remembers. “This one?” she asks, hovering the mouse over a movie that she thinks they’ll both like.

Next to her Rosé nods and Denali presses play.

While the movie plays on the screen Denali has no problem quickly polishing off the rest of her dinner while Rosé slowly chips away at hers. When she’s done, she places her bowl on top of Denali’s on the bedside cabinet before leaning tiredly against Denali’s shoulder. Feeling her friend’s arm wrap around her.

“Sometimes I wonder if people in movies have brains?” Denali mentions after a character makes an obviously bad decision.

“Hmm” Rosé hums as she shifts to pull away from Denali, who won’t let her. “Denali, I’m gonna sneeze” Rosé warns and Denali finally lets her go.

“Hih’akshew, ik’shew... ik’sheww” Rosé directs into a handful of tissues she just had time to pull out from the box beside her. She sniffles congestedly before blowing her nose. “I’m sorry, this is so disgusting.”

“You’re sick, Rosie” Denali says, wrapping her arm back around her. “You can cough and sneeze as many times as you like.”

“Except I don’t like any of it” Rosé sniffles before they settle back into silence.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Should we switch it off, Rosie?” Denali suggests, noticing Rose’s eyes fighting to stay open.

Rosé would have protested because the movie is nearly over but she knows she isn’t going to hold out much longer, so she nods instead.

Wordlessly, Denali stops the film and closes the laptop lid. Then helps Rosé pull the blankets over her shoulder as she settles down before hoping off the bed and grabbing her keys from the draws.

“Thanks for dropping me home, Nali” Rosé mumbles half into her pillow as Denali makes for the door.

“You know it’s not a problem” Denali stops walking for a second. A sympathetic smile appearing on her face as Rosé’s eyes slip closed. “Sleep well my Rosie.”

#rpdr #rpdr fanfiction #rpdr 13 #rosé #denali #fluff #sickfic #rosénali #rosenali

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gameofdrarry · 3 years

Text

Wizards Hearts Recs: Established Relationship

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 Malfoy Meet Muggle by PenNoire Rated: Teen Words: 25,326 Tags: Animagus, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humour Summary: Draco Malfoy is surprisingly happy in a comfortable relationship with Harry Potter. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't brought up doing things the wizarding way, and if Draco wants to make this work, he's going to have to learn to integrate the magical with the muggle. Really, how bad can it be? ❤️ Read on AO3 or FFN

📜 A Nightmare Waiting to Happen by triggerlil Rated: Explicit Words: 21979 Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Claustrophobia, Eye Trauma, Eye Gouging, enucleation, Childhood Trauma, Vomiting, Choking, Unreliable Narrator, Horror, Body Horror, Clones, Abuse, Nightmares, Zombies, Cannibalism, Sectumsempra (Harry Potter), Legilimency (Harry Potter), Hospitals, Character Death In Dream, Antagonist James in Dream, bug horror, Snakes, Moths, Child Death in Dream, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Established Relationship, Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Attempted Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Corpses, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hurt/Comfort, Curses, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Protective Draco Malfoy, Husbands, No Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobic Language, Sexist Language, Bullying Summary: Draco sat beside Harry's bed as the man breathed deeply; his eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids, and every so often, he would twitch or part his lips. Draco couldn’t imagine what was going on in Harry’s mind, but he clutched his husband’s hand, wishing he could take his place, do anything to help. Harry Potter is cursed into a nightmare-verse—escaping one nightmare only causes him to fall deeper through the layers of his subconscious—will he be able to free himself, or will his deepest fears swallow him whole? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Age is just a number by gnarf Rated: Teen and Up Words: 1555 Tags: Old Age, Humor, Fluff, Established Relationship, Dementia, Plot Twists, Shoplifting, Just Add Kittens, Muggle London, HP Fluff Fest 2020 Summary: Married for decades, their life is perfect. Until Harry gets a call and hears the following words "Mr Potter, we caught your husband stealing ten large packs of King Sized condoms." ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Our Dreams, Our Pride by ahhhnorealnamesallowed Rated: Mature Words: 10319 Tags: Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healer Harry Potter, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Holidays, a very british coach holiday, Ireland, POV Alternating, Swearing, discussion of sex and sexual acts, Slice of Life, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, (or very little plot), Magic University - Freeform, Post-Secondary, Getting Together, Established Relationship Summary: For six years, Harry has promised Draco a 'big thing' for their anniversary. This year is the year Harry is going to make it happen, even if he does so in a very Harry Potter way. Including last-minute vacation planning, some very sassy old people, a coach bus, and less anniversary sex than expected. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 No Wizard Is an Island by Novaa Rated: Mature Words: 50009 Tags: HP:EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Ensemble Cast, Slow Burn, Quidditch, Getting Back Together, Established Relationship, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Auror Ron Weasley, Auror Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Apothecary Draco Malfoy, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Slice of Life, Harry/Draco Big Bang 2018, Community: harrydracobang Summary: For a life is made of the people living it, and no wizard is an island. A twenty-years journey in the intertwined lives of Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Draco and Harry. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Arrangement by RurouniHime Rated: Explicit Words: 65746 Tags: From Sex to Love, Established Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Domestic, Requited Love, Making Out, Jealousy, Falling In Love, Angst, Confessions, Moving In Together, Introspection, Pining, Community: help_haiti Summary: It's worked for years. Why change it now? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Training Exercises by spookywoods Rated: Explicit Words: 1313 Tags: Auror Draco Malfoy, Blindfolds, Hand Jobs, Married Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, It's Curry Night at the Malfoy-Potter Residence!, so you know it will be hot, Terrible smut and terrible puns, here all week Summary: Harry comes home from work to find Draco sitting in the dining room in the dark, wearing a blindfold and little else. “It’s for training,” Draco says. “Training?” “Sensory and environmental magic.” “I could help you train,” Harry says. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Take a trip into my garden by Andithiel Rated: Explicit Words: 5974 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Porn with Feelings, Established Relationship, Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, First Time Bottoming, Draco in lingerie, Bisexual Harry Potter, Rimming, Anal Sex, Really there might be too much feeling for it to count as pwp, As usual when I write, Enthusiastic Consent Summary: Harry has only been dating Draco for about two months, but he’s already obsessed with the git. And he knows that today, Draco has something special planned, something that includes him being dressed in skimpy lingerie. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Forget-Me-Nots and Narcissus by triggerlil Rated: Mature Words: 14430 Tags: Piano Player Draco Malfoy, Wand Maker Harry Potter, Summer, Domestic, Work partners - Freeform, Established Relationship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Wakes & Funerals, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Gardens & Gardening, Panic Attacks, apple picking, Wandmaking (Harry Potter), Classical Music, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary: His long pale fingers travelled across the keys, the sound of the piano cresting and falling, one moment soft and enticing, in the next fast and sure. The first few buttons of his white shirt were undone, revealing a pale chest and thin lines of scars; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal strong forearms, one marred by a smudge of black ink. Or in which Draco is overcome by grief, and Harry is there to keep him afloat. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Through the Window, Clear Skies by tackytiger Rated: Mature Words: 1415 Tags: Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Moving In Together, Boyfriends, Domestic, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Emotionally Repressed, True Love, Mention of wanking, mention of fucking, but mostly just love, Engagement, Drarry Discord Writers Corner Drabble Challenge Summary: What would happen if Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy moved in together, too soon after they started kissing and then fucking and not hating each other anymore? Will Draco insist on a wine rack? Or: Domestic Drarry with a bare hint of angst. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Sweet Nothings by vivi1138 Rated: Mature Words: 1985 Tags: Major Character Death, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Loneliness, Hallucinations, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, POV Draco Malfoy, Established Relationship, Hopeful Ending, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Muteness, Terminal Illnesses, Physical Disability, Loss of strength, Bodily Fluids, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Missions Gone Wrong, Auror Partners, Minor Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Afterlife, Mental Health Issues, hopelessness Summary: What do you do when you lose the one you love? After a raid goes wrong, Draco navigates the waters of his grief and may very well lose himself in the process. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Love Found by peachpety Rated: Explicit Words: 7500 Tags: Double Agent Draco Malfoy, BAMF Harry Potter, Hogwarts Sixth Year, love realizations, Boys Kissing, Legilimency (Harry Potter), Occlumency (Harry Potter), mind connections, Intense Emotional Action Sequences, Canon Dumbledore Death, Established Relationship, Teenage Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Non-graphic Mentions/Recalls of Offscreen Sexual Activity Between Consensual Minors, Magic and Emotions Conveyed as Color, Threats of Physical Violence and Intimidation, References to Past Forced Submission, Killing Death Eaters, Eventual Happy Ending, Minor References to Past Snape/Lucius Summary: During Harry’s sixth year, Draco Malfoy joins the Order as a double-agent and continues with his task to get the Death Eaters into the castle as assigned by Voldemort. Draco succeeds with his mission the evening Harry returns from the caves with Dumbledore. The boys reunite on the Astronomy Tower and, with the Death Eater’s arrival, are forced to engage in a fight, driving Harry to come to terms with his feelings about true friendship and romantic love. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Christmas Is For Sex (and Love), So Give It To Me by GoldenTruth813 Rated: Explicit Words: 53218 Tags: PWP, Established Relationship, Christmas, Bondage, misuse of frosting, making gingerbread houses, coming without touching, Blowjobs, Fingering, anal penetration, Rimming, misuse of fairy lights, Praise Kink, Nipple Clamps, erotic massages, Lingerie, Harry in Lingerie, Butt Plugs, Masterbation, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Topping from the Bottom, Ice Play, misuse of snowballs, misuse of brandy custard, veritasium, Public Sex, misuse of christmas candles, Wax Play, floating blow jobs, bubble baths, Candy Canes, misuse of candy canes, sex with feelings, Clubbing, naughty letters, babysitting teddy, Edging, healing past trauma, really so much more than sex, but lots of sex too, spiked hot cocoa, Drunk confessions, Anal penetration with a foreign object, french!draco, Switching Summary: Draco buys Harry an Advent House, intent on helping Harry create all new holiday memories, and have a lot of great sex in the process. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 there’s a trick with a dragon I’m learning to do by curiouslyfic Rated: Explicit Words: 20000 Tags: Politics, economics, social commentary, international relations, mature characters, complex relationships, intellectual comradeship, working together to achieve a common goal, sharp dressers, snark, banter, armchair sex, wall sex, desperate kissing, orgasm denial, playful biting, Machiavellian intrigue, wizard banking, Potterverse ghosts and goblins, pursuit, subtle seduction (i.e. life-saving and/or political acts that can be interpreted as courtship), and frivolous decadence Summary: Harry’s live-in’s a workaholic being courted — harassed — by an array of weeping minions and an assortment of overprivileged pricks. Harry’s bloody portraits are being harassed — courted — by, well, an assortment of things Harry doesn’t even want to think about. Harry’s had a long week already and so far, his weekend’s not looking much better. At least he can say with certainty there's no place like home... ❤️ Read on Dreamwidth

📜 Last Offices by tackytiger Rated: Mature Words: 6737 Tags: Major Character Death, Character Death, Blood and Injury, Memories, Unhappy Ending, Wakes & Funerals, Falling In Love, Sad Harry Potter, Preparation of a body for burial, Non-Linear Narrative, Flashbacks, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Happy Memories Summary: It didn't seem fair that Malfoy was dead, and Harry was supposed to just keep on living without him. He had lost enough people to know that he probably would keep on going—his stubborn heart was still beating, after all, even though it felt like it was going to break. But first, he had to get through the laying out of the dead—those old Pureblood funeral rites—even if every time he touched Malfoy's too-cold body, he was reminded of how things used to be, and how things might have been. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Love Is by xErised Rated: Teen and Up Words: 26529 Tags: Emotional Roller Coaster, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Post-Hogwarts Summary: Aurors Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are presumed dead during a mission gone wrong. Their partners — Draco and a pregnant Hermione — refuse to believe that they're gone, even after a year of their absence. A tale of loss, longing and love, with a happy ending. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Making A List and Checking It Twice by blithelybonny Rated: Explicit Words: 20758 Tags: Porn with some plot, Established Relationship, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Dom/sub, Making Out, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Dirty Talk, Spanking, Frottage, Rimming, Sex Toys, Butt Plugs, Subdrop, Aftercare, Bathing/Washing Summary: ON HIATUS - WILL BE COMPLETED -- A life-changing event is headed Draco and Harry's way - what better way to celebrate than by checking a few things off the old sexual bucket list? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Dreams That You Dare to Dream Really Do Come True by Drarrelie Rated: Explicit Words: 11751 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Established Relationship, The Burrow (Harry Potter), Birthday, Harry Potter's Birthday, Birthday Party, Birthday Presents, Birthday Sex, Birthday Smut, Sexual Fantasy, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Secret use of sex toys in public, Internalised Kink Shame, Praise Kink, Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Porn with Feelings, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, Dom Harry Potter, Sub Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, Power Bottom Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Don't copy to another site, Fanart Welcome, Podfic Welcome Summary: Today, Draco’s new boyfriend turns nineteen and the annoying tosser has refused to present a wish list. It’s not Draco’s fault if he felt compelled to get a little creative, right? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Up the Duff by CorvetteClaire Rated: Explicit Words: 86755 Tags: Mpreg, Magical Pregnancy, Fluff, Smut, Light Angst, Wizengamot, Unspeakables (Harry Potter), Snarky Malfoy-style Humor, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Harry's Thing with Walls, Adorable Toddlers, Pregnant Draco, Protective Harry, Desperate Malfoys Summary: Draco Potter is hugely pregnant and (much to his surprise) enjoying himself. He loves having Harry fuss over him and looks forward to adding another Potter to their little family. Unfortunately for Draco, his parents have found out about their impending grandchild and have no intention of letting him separate them from this child, as he did from Bob (Felix). Their attempts to force their way into Draco's life may bring down even greater troubles on his head when the wizarding world at large finds out that Draco Potter, née Malfoy is up the duff! Or The fic that answers the burning questions... How many servings of McDonald's french fries can a pregnant wizard eat in a single day? Just how adorable and persuasive can a quarter-Veela toddler get before his fathers sell him to the Goblins? Is it possible to conceal a pregnant belly the size of a Hogwarts carriage under a glamour? What could be more ruthless and dangerous than Malfoys in need of an heir? Will Harry and Draco ever agree on a name for their child? Are girls really easier (and will our heroes ever find out)? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 what the body wants is coolness by lastontheboat Rated: Teen and Up Words: 13428 Tags: Day At The Beach, Established Relationship, First Time in Public, draco overthinks things, harry is affectionate, Beach Quidditch, no smut just fade to black, HP Drizzle Fest 2020, Community: hp_drizzle, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE Summary: "Are you done primping yourself yet?" Draco asked, feeling mulish. "We can still meet your friends on time if we leave now, but we'll have to walk quickly." Harry rolled his eyes. "It's a beach day, Draco," he said patiently. "Not a pureblood society event." "Yes, well, not all of us have the goodwill of the rest of the wizarding world to fall back on when we commit acts of social barbarism." ~~~ Draco and Harry have been seeing each other for months, and Harry decides the best way to tell their friends is to bring Draco to a group beach outing. Draco's given up enumerating all the ways this plan could go wrong. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Memorable Speech by Samunderthelights Rated: Teen and Up Words: 1300 Tags: Drarropoly: A Drarry Game/Fest, Drarry, Fluff, Silly, Weddings, Established Relationship, Short & Sweet, Don't copy to another site Summary: Harry is asked to give a speech at Teddy's wedding, but when he gets flustered, it becomes a speech the wedding guests will remember for a long time. ❤️ Read on AO3

#established couple #established relationship #drarry #drarry recs #game of drarry #wizards hearts #wh masterlist

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hockeyblogg · 4 years

Text

brat - f.andersen

A/N: I wrote this in like two hours, by far the fastest I’ve ever written lmao, but I really hope you enjoy !!

Warnings: Smut, Language.

Freddie couldn’t lie, he loved the idea of public sex, and if he weren’t the starting goalie for the Toronto Maple Leafs, you both would have fucked in nearly every restaurant or club in this city, but he had a lot at risk, and so did you. He didn’t want to give you both a bad name, so he refrained. Little did he know you have been thinking the exact same thing, but you’re less competent and also less patient. Public sex intrigued you; the possibility of getting caught excited you to no end and you had tried on one or more occasions to get Freddie to cave in to his desires, but he was keen on standing his ground.

That’s why tonight you decided was going to be the time you finally got what you wanted. The leafs have a banquet tonight to raise money for a couple of charities that the organization is partnering with and the entire team is required to go, of course.

Your plan was very simple, since Freddie was very protective and possessive over you, all you had to do was flirt a little with a couple rookies, you meant no harm obviously but your goal was to get Freddie mad, that way he would have no choice but to punish you in a secluded hallway or an empty broom closet, maybe even one of the bathrooms. That thought alone had you squirming.

You smooth out the dress you had on and take one more look in the mirror, hearing Freddie call you from downstairs. You grab your matching purse and head down, also carrying your heels. As you get down you hear Freddie let out a whistle, “damn baby, do a twirl for me.” you do as he says and spin around, hearing a “whoo!” coming from him, you giggle and look up, seeing him recording you on his phone, “Freddie, stop ittt!” he laughs and ends the video and you see him typing, then hear your phone ding.

You take it out of your purse and read the notification, ‘frederikandersen31 mentioned you in a story” You gape at him, “Why did you post it?” He smiles and grabs your hand in his, leading the way out, “because you’re beautiful, now come on.”

It was a quick drive to the hotel where the banquet was being held and as Freddie gave the valet the keys, he grabs your hand in his other and you both walk inside, making a right, straight into the banquet room. You immediately spotted Mitch and Steph and tugged Freddie’s hand to signal the way. He flicks his head toward them in greeting and when you reach the couple you’re pulling Steph into a hug, “Hey girl, nice to see you. You look so beautiful.” She smiles back at you, “You look gorgeous as well hun, come on, let’s get you a drink.” You laugh as she pulls you away and both boys smile at your retreating forms.

___

It’s been about an hour and you’re fairly buzzed and haven’t seen Fred around since you’ve arrived. Knowing he’s probably mingling about with some charitable men and women, you walk around the room and spot Nicholas at the bar, you smirk to yourself and walk up to him, ordering yourself another small drink and turning to face him, “Hey Nicky.” He shyly smiles at you, “Hi Y/N.” you giggle, “You don’t have to be shy, it’s just me.” He meekly nods and gestures around the room, “Yeah I know, this is just, taking some getting used to.” You nod in understanding and glance to your side, and right on cue, Freddie is standing a few feet away from you, talking to an older couple.

You look at Nick again and glance at his drink, “What’re you having?” He tips his glass, “Just a Smirnoff, you?” You hum, “Same.” You look him up and down and give him a flirty smile, “You look really good tonight.” You see his eyes widen and he nervously glances around the room and you presume it’s to look for your boyfriend, “You know, we haven’t really gotten to talk a lot. You’re doing really well so far this season.” His ears perk up and he gives you a grateful smile, “Really? Thank you, I thought I was doing terrible but so far everyone has been wishing me well and stuff, so maybe I’m doing something right.”

You nod along to his words and take just a step closer, “Everyone is nervous during their first year, but you’ll get the hang of it, you’re a talented kid.” He’s practically beaming now and you coo at the pride in his eyes. He really was a great kid, and you kind of felt bad for making him this nervous. He probably thought you had ill-intentions which isn’t what you were trying to do, but he’ll realize soon enough.

You step closer to Nick and place a hand on his suit jacket, rubbing the material in between your fingers, “Wow, is this velvet?” He stutters and nod, “Uh, ye-yeah, I just got it today.” You hum and lean into him, “I bet it feels good on your skin.” His eyes widen and he coughs, “Um, yeah I guess.” You raise an eyebrow and peer up at him, “You okay?” You look away and back at Freddie, not waiting for a response and you see him glance your way and shoot you a smile but he does a double take and his smile falters but picks back up when he sees you’re with one of his teammates. He goes back to speaking with the couple and you pout, trying to think of a way for him to look at you.

As if on cue, Gauthier and Sandin walked up to you both and you greeted them, “Hey guys, it’s good to see you.” They do the same and pretty soon you’re all drinking together in your little group. You haven’t been drinking a lot from your glass, yet you still take this as an opportunity to lean on Freddy while laughing at a joke that Sandin had told. He respectfully keeps you up right and asks if you want him to get Freddie, you shake your head and lean up to speak in his ear, “I’m okay right here.” He smiles and nods at you and continues the conversation.

Meanwhile across the room is your boyfriend, who saw your little smirk as you whispered in his teammates ear. His brows furrow and his lips form a scowl, he instantly knew what you trying to do, reading you like a book. He’s trying his best to focus on the lady in front of him but he can’t keep his eyes off your antics, watching as you throw your head back and slyly move your hand on Fred’s forearm. His jaw clenches and the grip he has on his glass tightens but he stays with the guests, giving you a little more time to straighten out and stop testing his patience.

Unfortunately for him, it takes about fifteen more minutes of watching you flaunt around his three teammates and he’s finally wrapping up the conversation and excusing himself, stalking toward you with a harsh glare on his face. As soon as he’s in reaching distance of you, he’s gripping your upper arm and pulling you away from the group, not even sparing the boys a glance. He’s dragging you out of the banquet room and into one of the bathrooms, walking into the biggest stall and slamming the door shut, pushing you against it with your cheek pressing into the door.

“Think you can just come here and flirt with a bunch of my teammates? That isn’t why I brought you here.” He has one of his hands gripping your hair, the other on your lower back, and you can feel his stomach press into you from behind, you squirm, “Well then why did you bring me here, I haven’t seen you all night, I needed attention from someone.” He chuckles into your hair, “Oh so that’s what you wanted huh, attention? cause you’re such a whore for it?” You gasp at his words, and he smirks, “Say it.” You shake your head and try to resist his grip but he only tightens it. Yanking your hair back, you whimper at the pain on your scalp and let out a few breaths, “Fuck it...I’m an attention-whore, I want it, I want it from you.” He spanks you over your dress, “Of course you are, look at you, getting turned on and I’ve barely touched you, what if someone were to walk in here, hm? They’d hear your dirty little sounds and I bet your panties would be dripping at the fact you’ve been caught, isn’t that right?” You whine because of course he’s right. What you would give for someone to walk in right now and see you and Freddie in such a provocative way, a way no one has ever seen you before.

Despite your age difference and the maturity of your relationship, you’re known as the innocent couple, or rather the most reserved with that sort of stuff. Freddie never told the guys about your sex life and you haven’t told any of the girls, you’d both rather keep your fantasies and kinky thoughts within the relationship, and maybe that’s why you both got off on the thought of public sex. If you were to get caught, everyone would find out what you both are really like, how dirty you two really were.

You feel your dress being hiked up and Freddie grabs your ass before moving his fingers to your core, you close your eyes tightly as he rubs your clit, “You’re wet baby, such a naughty girl.” he places kisses onto the nape of your neck and bites harshly on the spot behind your ear, “You want me to fuck you elskede, hm? Wanna feel me?” You nod frantically and try not to be too loud, even though you want to be so bad. “Fred please, need you badly, inside.” You can’t even properly speak but Fred’s always one step ahead of you, and so you immediately feel his thick length sliding inside your cunt and you sigh.

He moves his hips fast, not wasting anytime in getting you both to your highs, he’s grabbing you everywhere and anywhere, your hips, ass, neck, hair, arms, anything to get him to move his hips faster into you and he’s loving every sound you make; every whimper, whine, moan of his name gets him closer and closer and soon he feels his dick begin to twitch, so he moves one hand around you to rub at your clit, “Come on baby, want you to cum for me, and you’re not going to be quiet about it either.” He pants in your ear and you whine and move your hips with his fingers, getting yourself closer, and finally feeling the familiar knot in the pit of your stomach.

“Fred, I’m gonna cum...” you all but moan out, your voice bouncing off the walls of the stall, and he lets go of your hair to wrap it around your neck, pulling you back and biting your earlobe, “Cum for me baby.” Your high catches you off guard and his name falls from your lips quite loudly, but he doesn’t cover your mouth nor does he tell you to be quiet. He’s still moving his hips and he asks, “Where do you want me to cum?” You move your hips back into his, “Inside me, please Freddie cum inside me.” You don’t usually ask him to do so, not liking the mess it leaves, but it’s so damn hot how he has you pleading for him in a bathroom stall only a room over from all his teammates, important sponsors and all the media, who can possibly hear what you’re doing right now and you’re still so wet, nearing your second orgasm of the night that you just don’t care, you need him inside you, and you want to feel his warm cum coating your walls, and that’s exactly what you tell him.

Freddie groans at your filthy words, his dick twitching one last time before he’s spilling into you and it feels so good and so naughty at the same time, your toes curl as you cum, and the force has your knees buckling but Freddie has his arms around you, holding you to him.

The bathroom that was once filled with your moans and the slapping of skin, is now filled with your and Freddie’s heavy breathing, trying to calm down. Freddie is the first to recover and he helps you to pull your panties up, keeping his cum from dripping down your legs and straightens your dress out, also helping you to stand up straight. He noticed that he’s left a bite mark but he quickly hides it behind your hair, “You alright elskede?” You nod and fall into him, still breathing hard, “You know I was only flirting with the boys to get you mad, right? I only have eyes for you.” He lets out a laugh and wraps his arms around you, “Of course I did elskede, you love being a brat don’t you?” You nod and curl into him as best you can, but he pulls away, “Come on, let’s get you home before you fall asleep on me.” He gently leads you back out of the washroom and looks around for any sign of people and is grateful when he sees nobody. He’s walking you both out of the hotel when out of the corner of his eye he sees a younger guy, around your age, who by the look of his uniform was a bellhop, and when he gets a good look at him he smirks at his blushing face.

Guess you were a little too loud.

#frederik andersen #frederik andersen imagines #Frederik andersen x reader #freddy andersen imagines #freddy andersen x reader #freddie andersen imagines #freddie andersen x reader #toronto maple leafs writings #toronto maple leafs imagines #toronto maple leafs #nhl imagines #nhl writing #nhl x reader #my writings

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unsettledink · 3 years

Text

Gotcha Chapter 6!

(Trying something new and posting the full text here as well as AO3? It feels too long, but I’ve posted longer things here before, Idk.)

Read on AO3

Peter: sorry im on my way!

Peter: iswear im just running late

Peter: i will be there supr fast!!

Peter: sorry!

Quentin stares down at his phone and somehow, manages not to sigh. It’s a full ten minutes past when they were supposed to meet, and he doesn’t even want to be here in the first place.

Quentin: Don’t worry, it’s fine.

Peter: im sosorry

Peter: my alarm got set for tomorroow instead of today

Peter: i dont even know how

Peter: adn i just woke up and i dont even sleep this late like ever

Peter: but i willl bet there soon i promise

Peter: sorry!

Quentin: Really, it’s fine! There’s no hurry.

Quentin: We’re not exactly on a schedule or anything.

Peter: its so rude tho

Peter: for once it wast me losingt rack of time!!

Peter: im still sorry!

Quentin had given himself a little extra time this morning, just to remind himself of all the many, many reasons he is doing this, in this particular way. Had spent that time summoning up every bit of patience he could find to get through this day, because he had a feeling he was going to need it.

It feels like he’s already used half of it.

And of course he won’t be able to comment on Peter’s lateness, not even as a joke.

Peter: im like hafway there already illl just have to chagne and then ill be there!

Peter: seriously i am so sorry

Normally he’d be all for hearing Peter apologize, but it keeps happening every other word, Quentin will lose his mind.

He’s already losing his mind.

Well, he’s not going to just stand here until Peter does show up. He glances around for somewhere to sit; there’s a coffee shop just across the street. Perfect. He’s going to need that.

Quentin: Hey, don’t rush!

Quentin: I’ll just grab a coffee okay?

Quentin: I’ll be over at Kaldi’s, it’s just across the street. Can’t miss it.

Quentin: You want anything?

Peter: you dont haveto!

There’s no stopping the sigh this time. God.

Quentin: Not what I asked, kiddo.

Peter: um

Peter: suure?

Peter: someting with carmel i dont care mych

Peter: ill be there realy soon tho!!

Quentin: Then we can just sit for a bit.

Quentin: You’ll probably need it if you just woke up.

It’s a little funny how… drastically downgraded Peter’s texting is when he’s apparently still half asleep. Or maybe it’s just that he’s in a hurry. Or—

Quentin nearly stops in the middle of the sidewalk. He— surely, Peter isn’t—

Quentin: Are you texting AND webswinging?

Peter: …maybe?

No wonder he goes through phones so fast.

Quentin: You’re going to drop your phone

Peter: hey! imst icky! i wont drop it!

Quentin: Then you’re going to fall from being distracted

Quentin: And I won’t feel sorry for you.

Peter: :(

Quentin: I’ll laugh

Peter: :( :( :(

Quentin: You brought this on yourself.

He spends the time until Peter gets there reviewing Lynn’s newest plans for the miniaturized drones; they actually aren’t too bad.

Of course, they’ve probably had them sitting, waiting, for months, what with how they’ve harped on and on about how this should be a priority.

It won’t do to let them get too full of themselves, so along with the praise he sends back plenty of potential revisions. Even brings up some entirely new bits for them to consider; should keep them busy for a bit.

“Hi!” Peter says, flinging himself down across from Quentin. He’s flushed and still out of breath, his hair sticking up. “I’m here! I’m so sorry!”

Quentin allows himself a slightly amused smile. “Hi,” he says. Pushes Peter’s drink—some sort of ridiculously sweet caramel flavored thing that’s barely coffee at all—across the table to him. “Sit. Drink. Relax a bit, okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, running a hand through his hair and only making things worse. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry, though. I’m just… it’s really embarrassing to be that late when this was my idea in the first place and—”

“Peter,” Quentin says, cutting him off. “Breathe! It’s fine, I promise.”

For once, Peter listens, and takes a deep breath, holding it in for a moment. Lets it out and relaxes the smallest bit, and grabs his drink. “Oh,” he says. “This is good! Thanks; you were right about me needing it.”

Quentin watches while he unwinds; Peter’s latest idea regarding ‘things they could do together’ was to show Quentin around Queens, so today they’re wandering. Quentin’s thrilled.

It could be worse. Peter had been all set up to take him to the most popular, well known, touristy spots, and Quentin had barely been able to hide his dread at the thought. It’d taken a little work, but he’d manage to convince Peter that Quentin would much rather see Peter’s favorite places. Even if they were nothing fancy or exciting, or little hole in the wall type places, or silly.

Even if they bored Quentin to tears.

Not that he can let Peter see even a hint of that. There’s a special kind of… vulnerability in sharing the smallest things you like, something different than exposing the larger, more damaged pieces of yourself. Something oddly hopeful about showing someone the unexplainable, intimate things you like and waiting for them to enjoy those things as well. Or at the very least, not reject them, in a way that suggests they’re rejecting your tastes as well.

Not rejecting you.

He’s started to prove to Peter he can handle the bigger things, the superhero stuff and the feelings nearly suffocating Peter; time to show that he can be trusted with the little things too. That Peter can come to Quentin with anything at all. Anything. Everything.

“So,” Quentin says. “What’s first?”

He was right; it is pretty boring. Not… awful, surprisingly, but not Quentin’s sort of thing at all. Peter’s apparently decided to try and cover as many miles as he can in one day, dragging Quentin from one end of Queens to the other. And then back; Quentin’s going to take tomorrow off for sure. Peter just has so much energy.

Has so much enthusiasm, Quentin thinks, as they poke through a small used record store that isn’t nearly as hipster as he expected from Astoria. So, so much enthusiasm, for the smallest things. It just bursts out of him once he gets comfortable and isn’t second guessing every single word he says.

Once Quentin has seemed interested in the first few things Peter shows him. Peter’s nervous about it, trying to explain away any shortcomings before Quentin’s even gotten in the door. He’s just desperate for approval, for acceptance. For Quentin to like him.

It’s not that hard to, actually.

It’s never been that Quentin dislikes Peter. Sure, Peter’s causing him grief and can be incredibly annoying, and sure, about half of what he feels for Peter is pity, but those can exist alongside the fact that Quentin kind of likes Peter.

Has liked him, ever since he started compiling research on him, ever since he’d met Peter as Mysterio and shook his hand and watched him get so excited over the existence of multiverse. It’s harder not to like Peter, not even a bit. He’s ridiculously smart, and stupidly good-natured, and—

He throws himself into everything he does; goes full out, with his heart on his sleeve. It’s no wonder he gets anxious as hell, if his first impulse is to practically flaunt all his soft spots, open and eager and expecting the best. It’s going to go poorly more often than not.

Must have, judging by the way Peter pulls himself in and hides, overrides that instinctual reaction so quickly it’s just a flash, a glimpse Quentin keeps catching again and again. He’s been taught to second guess himself somewhere along the way, by someone—probably a lot of someones—who saw those tender spots and couldn’t help poking them, taking advantage of them.

Just like Quentin’s doing; Peter should be better about spotting that sort of thing by now.

It’s almost a shame to fix Peter just to tear him apart completely, to have to use him like this, but… well. In the end, Peter’s nothing but another obstacle scattered in Quentin’s path. There are far more important things to worry about than the fate of one kid.

Peter grins at him when Quentin admits that this dinky little secondhand bookstore in Jamaica was worth a stop, even if it’s just for the most comfortable couch Quentin has ever sat on. Smiles when he points out a mural he loves on the way to the next attraction and admits he’d actually webbed up someone who started to tag it.

Straight up laughs at Quentin’s face when Peter shows him the most supremely creepy things in some huge thrift store, full of weird antiques and vintage crap. God, it’s disturbing that the things Quentin had as a kid, even as a teen, are considered vintage now.

“Jesus, Peter,” Quentin says after he has to look at a one hundred percent haunted taxidermied squirrel. “Why would you make me see that? I’m going to have nightmares.”

“For that exact face,” Peter says. “Oh my god, you look like you think it’s going to bite you!”

“It might,” and it’s unfair that Peter just laughs harder. He glares at Peter, but it might be slightly put on.

He’s allowed to like Peter a little, Quentin decides, watching Peter nearly double over with giggles. It’ll make having to deal with him easier, if nothing else, and it’s not as though liking someone has ever stopped him from using them—even disposing of them—in the past. It sure won’t this time.

They wander some more, Peter chattering on and easily filling the silence as long as Quentin remembers to make the appropriate listening noises occasionally. Every now and then, Peter hesitates, a nervous stumble in his words, something throwing him off, and Quentin reengages fully. He can’t afford to let Peter get too caught up in his thoughts.

But a few questions—carefully designed to make Quentin seem far more interested than he is—are enough to get Peter going again, bouncing from place to place until Quentin suggests they could use something to eat.

“Oh my god, yes,” Peter says. “I’m starving and didn’t even realize it. Ooo, last time we were down here, Ned and I found this awesome truck that does crazy good Korean barbeque, you’d love it.”

“No,” Quentin says without thinking, the sweet tart burnt smell so strong he can nearly taste it, can feel it stinging when he draws in a breath.

He twitches, shrugging it off, and tries to walk back how sharp that had come out. “Uh, I’m not big on sweet sauces and meat?” he says. “Got another recommendation?”

Peter drags him to a place that has the weirdest chimichanga combinations—and normal ones too, thankfully—and once again, attempts to pay.

“You know,” Quentin says as he pokes Peter out of the way, immensely irritated that Peter is still pushing him on this. “I didn’t realize your memory was this bad.”

“Hey!” Peter says. “It’s not! What are you talking about?” like that doesn’t prove Quentin’s point exactly.

“I seem to remember a bet I won,” he says, “relating to this exact situation.”

Peter opens his mouth to protest, and then closes it. “Um,” he says.

“Yeah,” Quentin says,raising his eyebrows.

“Okay,” Peter says, “okay, you can’t blame me for trying!”

“Hmmm,” Quentin says, passing over one of the foam trays. “You’re forgiven. This time. Just don’t do it again.” It’s always a good idea to get Peter into the habit of following Quentin’s rules, of remembering not to challenge Quentin too much.

Of remembering that Quentin will forgive him anything, easily.

“Fine,” Peter says through a mouthful, so mature.

They eat on the way to the next stop on Peter’s little tour; Quentin had been hoping they were approaching the end, but when Peter looks at him and asks, so hesitantly, if Quentin is tired and wants to call it a day—

Well he can’t say no.

Quentin finds himself dragged on to little half hidden shops, with any signage and down stairs that Quentin has to ask how Peter could have found in the first place. To statues Peter likes, to places he feeds pigeons—why he’d want to, Quentin doesn’t know—places with great views of the Hudson.

And, over and over, once Quentin catches on and starts pushing it, places to eat. Because Peter’s metabolism is a thing of wonder.

It’s interesting watching Peter banter back and forth with an older man about his sandwich; Quentin had gotten the impression Peter was uneasy around strangers, all his awkwardness amping up. But the way Peter’s interacted with people today is much more relaxed, much easier. Peter has a sharp sense of humor that Quentin has only started to see, as Peter gets comfortable around him.

Why do all these strangers get it right off the bat?

He watches Peter dart over to help get a stroller over a curb and— they’re not strangers. Not really. It’s not just that everywhere they’ve gone is somewhere Peter has been again and again, to the point where he knows people.

This is Peter’s home ground. His comfort zone, and the people in it— they’re his people. And when he’s helping them, his nerves disappear. His awkwardness becomes a tool of its own, disarming, downplaying the threat Peter could so easily be.

This is what he wants to be when he’s Spider-Man; the guy on the street, helping in a hundred tiny ways.

That’s fine with Quentin. Perfectly fine; now how does he get Peter to stay there, with EDITH looming over his head?

He can practically hear that in William’s voice, ugh. He’s working on it.

They wind up in Kissena late in the afternoon, almost early evening, really. Peter steps off the path once they get into one of the more wooded areas, and there’s a grassy spot past a few bushes, with a truly massive tree near the center, smaller ones scattered around it. It’s well hidden.

“Alright,” Quentin says, as he has with every other place, “what's the story behind this? How’d you find it?”

“So, when I got bit, when everything changed?” Peter settles down at the base of the tree, cross legged. “One of the things that was like, a huge pain, was how all of my senses got crazy amplified. Everything was turned up to eleven, you know?”

Quentin sits across from Peter, stretching his legs out as he leans back. Ugh, grass; he’d better not end up with bug bites. “Okay,” he says. “Sounds like that was pretty overwhelming.”

Peter groans. “You have no idea! It was really hard for a while, because even once I started to get used to everything being too loud and too bright and too smelly and— things tasted weird and my clothes made me feel like my skin was crawling and it was—” He stops, tipping his head back against the tree and looking upward.

“It was a lot,” he says. “Eventually I sorta started being able to deal with all that sort of… feeling stuff? I mean, physical, sensory, not like feeling feelings.”

Coherent; Quentin does not roll eyes through sheer force of will.

“But I was still really struggling with the, um,” Peter frowns, tips his head back further until Quentin can’t really see his face. “The stuff in my head. Actually doing things, thinking about things or even focusing on one thing was all so hard. It was like…”

“It was like what?” Quentin asks, after a few moments have passed.

“Everything was a distraction,” Peter says, slowly. “That’s still not right, because normally, before, I’d get distracted thinking about something else I wanted to do, or I’d be daydreaming, or, um, just, good stuff? Stuff that I’d want to focus on, just not right that second.”

“This wasn’t like this.” Peter looks down and starts to fiddle with a bit of grass, pulling up blades one by one. “This was like so much noise inside my head, like every little detail about every single thing was right there, grabbing my attention. I’d be trying to do one thing and all that would be clamoring at me nonstop.”

He closes his eyes, scrunching his whole face up. “People talk about wanting super sense a lot,” he says, “but it sucked so much at first.”

“People generally don’t think through those kinds of wishes very much,” Quentin says. Honestly, for the most part people don’t think at all.

“I’m pretty much okay now,” Peter says. “I figured out how to filter things most of the time; when there’s a bunch of stuff at once I can get so caught up in trying to ignore it that I ignore everything, and then that’s it’s own problem.”

“I noticed,” Quentin says, dryly. “Makes you pretty jumpy.”

Peter huffs, almost a laugh. “Yeah,” he says, brushing the ripped up grass off his pants. “I’m still working on getting the kinds of focus right?”

Quentin leans further back on his hands, crossing his legs. “You said something about focusing on me that one time,” he says, and Peter goes faintly pink. “That the sort of thing you’re talking about?”

“Something like that,” Peter says. “If I have one thing I can focus on, almost completely, then I can make it into… uh, white noise, I guess? Or it makes everything else into white noise. If that makes any sense at all.”

Not one bit, but whatever. He can press that later. “Sure,” Quentin says, waving his hand. “I’m following.”

It’s actually something to consider— if Peter manages to function better in difficult situations by focusing on one specific thing, what happens when that thing is taken away? Is ripped away from him, in fact. Would there be a moment of disorientation they could take advantage of? Maybe they could set Peter up to focus on what they want; he’s already using Quentin as a focal point, apparently.

He’ll have to watch Peter, Quentin thinks. This fumbling little explanation leaves a lot to be desired, but he doesn’t have much faith Peter actually could explain it better even if he tried.

“That helps,” Peter’s saying, “but it’s still really exhausting after a while. Sometimes I want to just… stop. Just not feel it at all, not have to try not to feel it.”

He glances at Quentin, and Quentin nods. Peter looks oddly shy, so he’d better pay close attention to what he’s showing.

“I’ve found a couple of places like this, but this is probably my favorite,” Peter tells him. “I can come here and actually relax. If I stop trying to block things out, or stop focusing on one thing, it doesn’t matter.” He tips his head back again, looking up at the tree.

“It's quiet here, pretty much all the time,” Peter says; the light through the leaves is diffuse, dappled on his face. “Even the noises that I get are like, soft things. Leaves and wind and things walking on grass. People talking, yeah, but that’s more distant and almost like background noise. It’s still shadowy in here when it’s super bright out, and there aren’t any super gross strong smells either. Just dirt and water and uh, green stuff.”

He darts a glance down at Quentin without moving his head. “Don’t laugh at me!” he says, and it’s right on the edge of plaintive. “I don’t know what else to call it.”

“I’m not,” Quentin says. He understands; it’s not something a city kid would be around that often, would probably even notice without senses like Peter’s. “I wouldn’t. I know what you mean, Peter.”

“Okay,” Peter says. Looks back away from Quentin and then closes his eyes. “It’s nice. And when I have to go back to the real world, it’s not quite as hard to handle.”

Quentin watches him. Watches as he slowly, slowly unwinds. Peter doesn’t move, aside from his head tipping slightly to the side, and Quentin—

He’d thought, earlier, that it was interesting how much Peter loosened up around people he felt comfortable with, places he felt safe. He’d thought it was a large degree of relaxation—and it was—but it was nothing compared to this.

Nothing compared to the way the tension drains from him with each passing second, from every single bit of his body, until he looks calmer than Quentin has ever seen.

Happier.

If this is how he looks when truly relaxed, the level of stress Peter must carry with him every day, everywhere he goes—from the physical tension to the mental, the anxiety, the constant background level of effort that other people don’t have to think about—must be ridiculously high.

He doesn’t want to say anything, do anything, that would break the stillness that seems to have spread over the entire glade. Poor kid. He might be doing a great job at being a pain in Quentin’s ass, but he isn’t cut out for this superhero shit.

Everything Quentin sees just convinced him further that taking EDITH from Peter really is doing him a favor. He’d never intended for that to be true, but— it’s not a terrible byproduct.

Peter sighs eventually, a barely there breath of a thing, opening his eyes halfway. He looks dazed, almost half asleep.

At least, until he notices that Quentin is watching him, and then he flushes. Looks down, the moment dissipating. “Anyway,” Peter says. “It’s— it’s a nice place for me,” like he’s admitting something embarrassing.

“I can tell,” Quentin says, offering him a small smile. “You deal with a lot every day, don’t you.” He shifts against his tree, trying to get more comfortable without Peter noticing and getting all fussy about it.

“I guess,” Peter says.

He picks up a leaf, twirling it through his fingers absently. “It’s getting really frustrating,” he adds. “Because it’s been almost two years, right? So I should have a better handle on this! I shouldn’t still be getting tripped up by such little things. And—” he makes a face, shoulders starting to hunch again.

“So I have this… this sense? Uh, I call it a spidey sense— I know, it’s kind of stupid. It sort of warns me about things? Like someone poking me, or shouting that something bad is about to happen.”

“Mmm, you mentioned that once,” Quentin says. “Sort of like a limited precog?” Honestly, he’d dismissed it— not fully, it wouldn’t do to completely dismiss anything about Peter. But it hadn’t seemed like it did much for Peter in Europe.

And it hadn’t picked up anything about Quentin, so how good could it really be?

“Oh, huh,” Peter says. “I hadn’t really thought of it like that? Maybe, but it’s not very exact. Sometimes it’s super obvious, but others it takes me a while to figure out what’s wrong. And lately, especially, it’s been— it’s gone kinda nuts? I don’t feel like I can trust it anymore.”

“Like, like right now?” he adds. “Right now it’s just going off like something really big and bad is happening, but come on!” He throws his hands up, exaggerated. “We’re just sitting here talking! Nothing, literally nothing bad is happening. It’s freaking out for no reason.”

Fuck.

Maybe he really shouldn’t have dismissed it, Quentin thinks, trying to stay as relaxed as he was a moment ago. Maybe he really fucking shouldn’t have, because some part of Peter knows that Quentin’s not good news. Knows that Quentin is something dangerous, is a threat.

And apparently knows it very, very insistently. Oh, fuck, this is the last thing he needs. Why now? Why is Peter’s sense losing its shit now and not at any time in Europe? What has he done differently to set it off?

God, what if it had been going off then too? Could that be why Peter had backed off at the last second in the bar, EDITH almost in Quentin’s hand? Has Peter been feeling this the entire time?

It’s a good thing he doesn’t seem to be listening to it, but that could stop at any second. At any time, Peter could decide that maybe his stupid ‘spider sense’ isn’t wrong, and that would be— that would be bad. That would be so bad.

Quentin has got to figure out how to make sure Peter keeps dismissing what it’s telling him.

“It’s so annoying,” Peter’s saying. “I wish it would stop, would just shut up already. It’s like this constant thing lately, sort of fading in and out but almost always there, but not a single thing has happened!”

Oh, that’s really, really not great. Almost always? In and out? How long will it take before Peter starts to realize it’s linked to Quentin?

No. No, he can fix this. He can nip this in the bud, before Peter has even a hint of suspicion. Peter’s already trying to ignore it, already annoyed by it. Quentin can use that.

“Maybe it’s just confused?” Quentin brings one knee up and rests his elbow on it, letting his arm dangle oh so casually. “After all,” he adds, “I’m hardly a bad thing, am I?”

Peter smiles, all that irritation gone in a second. “No!” he says. “Of course not! You’re like, the least bad thing that’s happened in a while.”

Quentin grins back at him. Yeah, keep thinking that, kid. “Well that’s a relief!” he says. “How finely tuned is this thing anyway? Could something have… I don’t know, damaged it? Hmm, screwed up its baseline, maybe? How do you even recalibrate it?”

“I have no clue,” Peter says. “I mean, it’s not like I can’t really test it or fix it or whatever. It’s practically useless now.”

Perfect; he wants Peter distrusting this sense. Wants him not thinking about it at all, avoiding the topic entirely— ah.

If he can get Peter thinking his damaged sense has something to do with the fights he’s been in, these bigger battles, that would be ideal. Peter’s already trying hard not to think about those; tie this sense to them as well, and he’ll just have even more reason to avoid both

“Could something have overloaded it?” Quentin asks. “Just completely swamped it, and it hasn’t recovered yet? If it got used to there being danger nonstop, on all sides, maybe it can’t stand down.”

“…maybe?” Peter says. “But I don’t know what would have caused that, or even when. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

What.

Really, Quentin thinks, really? Peter can’t think of anything that would fit? Why wouldn’t he think of that? “Nothing?” he says, quietly.

Peter frowns. Takes a moment, and when he opens his mouth, Quentin is almost sure he’s made the connection; but Peter hesitates. Shrugs. “Not anything that’s like, major or a big deal or anything,” he says.

Does Peter— has he really managed to convince himself that all the fighting he’s done is nothing? Or at least, been trying to, because that hesitation says a lot.

He should have expected this, with the way Peter’s consistently downplayed himself so far. He really should have, but somehow it still annoys him. No wonder Peter isn’t willing to admit how scared and screwed up he is, if he thinks he’s completely overreacting to ‘no big deal’.

“Well,” Quentin says, and he’s watching Peter carefully. He doesn’t know quite how this will hit. “You were at war, on a battlefield. More than once, even. That can really mess you up in all kinds of ways.” Remember, Peter, he thinks. Remember that you were hurt, that there’s a good reason to be scared. To run.

“I— that—” Peter stares at him. “I wasn’t in a war,” he says. Dammit. Looks like downgrading it in his head is exactly what Peter’s been doing, and that is exactly the opposite of what Quentin wants.

“No? What would you call it?” Quentin asks, raising an eyebrow. He pushes himself more upright, uncrossing his legs. “It sounded a lot like war to me.”

Peter shakes his head, fingers crushing the leaf he’s been playing with. “It was just a fight,” he says, strained. “That’s all!”

A fight. Just a fight, like it was nothing more than a little spat, was nothing at all. Has someone been telling him this, reinforcing it? Fury, maybe, or even Tony before that?

He knows Fury wants Peter to think he can handle things, but has he also been trying to convince him that what he’s been through so far was small enough Peter should have been able to handle it? Should be able to handle the aftereffects? That he shouldn’t be upset about it, that he’s overreacting?

That’s not good; Quentin doesn’t need Peter doubting he can handle things. He needs Peter to be certain he can’t, and more, that it’s perfectly normal. Acceptable. Not something horribly selfish at all.

“Peter,” he says, “it wasn’t just a fight.”

“It was! It was just one— it wasn’t a war!”

“It wasn’t— Peter,” Quentin says, and sighs. “It was a lot more than that. You’ve been dragged from fight to fight to fight the past couple of years, without anyone helping you after; from what I hear, you really could have used some after that thing upstate.”

He huffs, too sharp to be a real laugh. “And that’s just what I know of,” he adds. “I’m not stupid enough to assume that’s everything.”

Peter sucks in a sharp breath, his hands fisted on his thighs. Blinks, and then looks at Quentin intently, his brow furrowed. “How do you even know about that? About— about other fights?”

“I spent some time talking with Fury,” Quentin says. “He wasn’t big on details, but I got enough that I can fill them in on my own. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t even know every fight you’ve been in, though I’m sure he’d like me to think so.”

He’d been talking with Janice, more like. God, she’d been such a find; seething about having had Tony himself be an ass to her, more than once, but willing to stay where she was to pass things on. She’d had access to so much confidential information, and every time SI and SHIELD decided to bury another thing, shift the blame and throw money at it until it all went away—for them, at least—she’d gotten a little more resentful.

It’s true that they might not have the finer details—it drives him nuts how sparse the info about whatever it was that crashed SI’s plane into the beach is—but he has enough to know that Peter’s been involved time and time again.

“Oh,” Peter says, looking down, losing some of his ire. “You probably didn’t hear much good, I bet. But— it doesn’t matter if it was more than one fight, cause they were all different. All like, spread out and about other stuff. It’s still not war.”

“What do you think war is, then?” Quentin asks, actually curious.

“I don’t, uh. War is… more?” Peter stumbles along, and he’s being incredibly stubborn about this. “More than that, than any of those. Worse. Way worse. You don’t— you weren’t there, you don’t know what it was really like. It wasn’t like that.”

“I think,” Quentin says dryly, “I have a pretty good idea of what war is.”

Peter looks absolutely horrified. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. “God, I didn’t mean— I’m sorry, I didn’t think— I just, just meant that you were in a war. In a real, horrible, endless one and this…” He shudders. “These were just fights. It’s not the same, it’s not anywhere near as bad.”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter says. Looks at Quentin and then drops his head into his hands, knees coming up as he curls in on himself. “Fuck, I’m so sorry Quentin, I didn’t mean…”

This is really not what he was going for. Shit, he shouldn’t have said it like that; Peter’s too sensitive for him to be even a little sharp.

Quentin sighs, very softly, though he’s sure Peter still catches it. Pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to Peter, who doesn’t even look up. “I know you didn’t mean it like that,” Quentin says. “It’s okay, Peter.”

Peter just shakes his head a little; Quentin thinks of sighing again but—somehow—manages to restrain himself. He sits down next to Peter, his back against the tree.

“War doesn’t have to go for a long time to be real,” he says, not looking at Peter. “It doesn’t have to drag on and on for it to still be awful, for it to still affect you,” and Jesus, he’s had to hear shit along those lines so many times. Had to sit there and listen to people be told over and over that what happened to them is worth being fucked up over.

Even if it isn’t. There’s a lot of reasons he never opened his mouth at those meetings, and his disgust at everyone else was the biggest. What a waste of time.

Well. Maybe not. It did give him the material to work Peter over.

“It doesn’t have to be some huge, dramatic battle to qualify,” Quentin says. “It still counts. Pretending it doesn’t doesn’t get it out of your head.” Come on, he thinks, let it be bad, be a nightmare. Admit that there’s a good reason, a real reason, for you to be scared, and then you can back down without shame. Come on, Peter.

“It doesn’t feel like it should count,” Peter says, a bit muffled, head still in his hands. “It wasn’t— lots of people have dealt with so much worse. Something like this, it’s not— it’s not an excuse for, for…”

He doesn’t finish that thought, but Quentin doesn’t need him to. An excuse, hmm? He turns his head toward Peter, just a bit. “Why don’t you want to call it a war?”

Peter lifts his head, arms sliding down to cross across his chest. “Why does it matter to you what I call it?” he asks, and there’s a hint of sharpness in there. Maybe even anger. “Why do you even care if I admit— if I think it’s a war?”

Nice little slip there; isn’t that interesting. Peter does know it was more than a few little fights. He knows, he’s just trying as hard as he can to pretend otherwise. Trying to redirect, as usual, turning the question back on Quentin. Why does it matter, Peter wants to know, and there are so many answers Quentin could give.

It matters because you need to see yourself as badly damaged. Because you need to acknowledge that this is something huge and overwhelming and frightening. Because I need you to start accepting what I say as right, start accepting me as an authority. I need you to not question me.

So many reasons, and he can’t tell Peter any of them. Ugh.

He turns further toward Peter. “Because I think you’re doing yourself a disservice,” Quentin says, tightly, irritation rising up in him. “When you sit there and insist that it’s nothing more than a little fight, when you play it off like it’s nothing— you’re devaluing what you did, and that’s wrong.”

“Don’t act like what you went through, what you did, doesn’t count,” Quentin says, and Peter’s looking over at him, startled. “That it wasn’t brave as hell, and terrifying as hell too.”

Peter stares, his eyes very wide. “I— it’s not like I did more than anyone else there. Than, than anyone else would have.”

“It sounds like you did more than enough,” Quentin says. “And— it doesn’t matter, Peter. It still messes you up. War fucks everyone up. Maybe it didn’t go on long enough for it to really warp your thinking, your morals or empathy or capacity to even feel, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t damage you.”

Peter jerks, sitting up straighter. “I’m not damaged!”

For fuck’s sake.

Quentin has to dig deep for a bit more patience. “Sure you are. Hey, Peter— wait,” he says, watching as Peter shuts down all over again, hurt. “That’s not bad, kid. It’s not an insult. It’s just… you gotta admit that before you can get better.”

Or not, if Quentin gets his way; admitting it might lead to Peter actually getting over his fear and stepping up. But with Quentin around, guiding him along? Peter’s never going to take that admission as anything other than a personal failure.

As just another reason he can’t, and someone else should.

“I don’t know,” Peter mutters. “It doesn’t feel like it should count.”

Quentin watches him for a minute. Leans in, his shoulder bumping against Peter’s. “You’d agree that I’ve been in war, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And that I’m able to judge what is and isn’t war. Right?”

Peter can be smart, sometimes. He sees where this is going. Sighs. “Yeah,” he says.

“Will you—” Quentin pauses, waits until Peter is looking at him. “Can you trust me here, and believe that I mean it when I say what you went through was war?”

Peter blinks, his eyes dropping. He’s silent, and Quentin can feel the muscles of his arm moving as Peter fiddles with something out of sight. “I’ll think about it,” Peter says, which is not quite the response Quentin was hoping for. Still, it’s not another denial. Baby steps.

“I’ll— maybe,” Peter says. “I guess you would know, even if you weren’t there.”

“You should listen to me,” Quentin agrees, leaning a little harder against Peter. “I do know!”

You should listen to me, and only me, he thinks. We’ll get you there, kid.

Peter huffs softly, pushing back against Quentin’s shoulder. “Maybe,” but he’s smiling faintly.

Quentin smiles back; he can accept a maybe, for now.

He’ll get a yes soon enough.

#mysteryspider #spiderio #quenter #quentin beck x peter parker #quentin x peter #mcu #spiderman #gotcha #wip #my work #fanfiction

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sasserenitysykingcollector · 3 years

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Moon Child :Namjin: Chapter One

A/N hello! im going to start posting my fanfictions here! a lot of them were written a year or so ago so they are short and maybe a bit confusing! but im planning to start working on them! please stick around!

Chapter one:

Chapter word count: 1596

It was a rather cloudy day in central Seoul, the rising sun covered by a thin layer of grey clouds that foreshadowed rain. But for the students of the most prestigious college in the country, life continued on as normal. The clock tower rang out eight times, echoing off the many buildings that comprised the campus of Seoul National University. Slowly, the walkways and roads came to life. Students walking to breakfast with friends, teachers making their way to class to prepare for the day, and café workers opening the doors for the breakfast rush.

One café, in particular, was already full of customers, most of whom were women wanting to see the attractive co-owner of the establishment. Kim Seokjin, A fine arts and literature student at the university, often dreaded all the attention he received from the ogling guests. But he smiled and greeted each one the same, “Good morning miss, what may I make for you?” sometimes the customers would slide him a napkin with the money that had their name and phone number, to which he smiled politely and threw away once they walked away.

His male classmates called him the “Woman Magnet” to which he smiled, even though he knew he was the last person who should attract women. When he was fifteen, he had the biggest crush on his classmate Yoongi, it was a defining moment in his life. He had never felt any kind of attraction to women, sure some were cute, but he never thought about them as a potential partner. He wanted to tell his parents but could never bring himself to do it before he left for college. So whenever his mother calls asking about his love life, he always responds with “I’m in a committed relationship” and he never elaborates.

Luckily, his Fine arts class is mostly men, so he doesn’t have to worry about turning down women then, but it’s a double-edged sword. Some of the men in his class are attractive, and Seokjin often catches himself staring, mentally scolding himself every time. Being openly gay in Korea is risky, while there are no laws against it. The idea of loving the same-sex had only started to spread a few years ago. And Seokjin being a respected student at his college had decided to keep his sexual preference to himself.

The library became his safe place, specifically the mythological section. Mostly because no one ever goes there. But he had grown attached to the books and their contents. He liked to get lost in the worlds the books built for the reader. Sometimes, he would be there for hours at a time. Once he had to be told by the librarian that he had to leave because it was time to close.

His favorite book to read was called “Guardian of the moon children” it depicted a being who had no set species. It came in many forms, to young children it often appeared as a white or grey dog who guided them to eternal rest. When as for adults it appeared as a youthful young man who was described as having a deep but soft voice and soft skin. Not only did the being guide human souls to eternal rest, but it also was seen during the birth of someone who would do important things in their life. While Seokjin knew this was just fiction, he wanted it to be true.

At the end of his morning shift, Seokjin would head back to his apartment to shower and change his clothes. After which he would prepare a clean uniform for work and put it in his bag, before sitting at his desk for an hour to study before he had class. He only had four hours’ worth of classes a day, except for Fridays when he had six. So he always finished right before lunch. He would rush back to the café and change into his uniform before eating a quick snack. Normally, he would have ten to fifteen minutes to relax before the lunch rush began. Much like in the morning, women would stare and attempt to hit on Seokjin. It was something he never looked forward to. Part of him thought that if people knew why he worked three shifts a day, they would feel much differently about him. Seokjin had a loan to pay off, a hefty one at that. He had taken the loan out when he moved to attend the university. He had to pay for a place to sleep and the fees that were a result of schooling. At the rate he was making money, it would still be more than two years before he would have the loan completely paid off.

Something Seokjin s parents had told him since he was young was the reason he worked so hard, “if you do something, take responsibility. No matter how big or small the consequences are, never lie about something you did” those words were engraved on his mind, always haunting him, a reminder that the debt will never go away unless paid off. But he accepted it. After the lunch rush. He would make his way home. Working on the pile of homework he was assigned from the day’s classes. If he was able to finish before six, he would go to the library and read before his dinner shift. This was the way he lived.

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

“Morning Seokjin, did you have another late night?”

Seokjin bowed slightly out of habit to the café owner, Minseok. Quickly standing straight, Minseok had told Seokjin to treat him as a friend, meaning he should call him by his name and not treat him as he normally would someone older than him.

“Yah!” Minseok exclaimed in exasperation, “I told you not to bow!” Seokjin smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Making his way behind the counter, Seokjin grabs his apron, tying in with ease. “Do you want me to open today?” he asked. “Go ahead” Minseok replied.

As usual, a line of people had already formed outside the door following Seokjin's arrival to the café. He smiled and waved politely before flipping the switch that then lit up a “yes! We are open!” sign.

As the line slowly shrunk and the smell of coffee and fresh pastries faded from the display that hosted an array of freshly baked goods, a deep voice greeted Seokjin

“Good morning sir” Seokjin squeaked out, surprised that he was able to keep his voice steady, albeit slightly higher pitched. “What can I get for you?”

“Ah, I’m new to this area but I saw the long line so I assumed it must be worth the wait, and I can assure you is was.” The man responded looking Seokjin over with his eyes, before meeting them directly.

Seokjin stared for longer than he probably should have, the man's eyes had stars in them, literal stars that floated and shone throughout his pupils, small specks that hypnotized him.

The clearing of a throat snapped him out of his trance, “s-sorry!” he apologize slightly louder than he needed to, causing a few heads to turn in his direction. “W-we are fairly well known for our crumble scones” he spoke nervously, gesturing to the half empty bake-case. “We have a f-few left”

“How perfect, I just so happen to love scones” the man replied running his fingers back through his hair. “And I’ll also have a (joon coffee) with that scone” Seokjin nodded and put the order into the register. Silently, Seokjin hoped the man would pay with his card so he could get his name.

“That will be 7100 Won please” When he looked up he spotted the exact amount in cash on the counter as the man tucked his wallet back into the inside pocket on his suit jacket. “Can I have a name for the order?” He asked. Even Though normally the café went off a number system he thought he would ask.

The man paused in thought “φεγγάρι” (Pronounced fen-gar-e) Seokjin jotted down the name, quickly realizing the name was the Greek word for Moon. He had taken Greek for his language the year before. Though, he never thought it would come in handy.

“You have a Greek name?” Jin asked as he sat the cup to his side and went to get the scone from the display case. “You know Greek?” the man asked. “Uh, y-yeah” Jin said shyly. His cheeks going red when he looked up only to realize that the eyes of the customer were glued onto his own.

“Oh!” Jin exclaimed as he stumbled and dropped the scone that slid on the floor.

Gasps filled the café as the man had caught Jin from falling, “w-wait how?? You were- now you're here?!” he spoke to himself as the man helped him stand up. “I'm going to have to cancel my order for now” he said as he walked towards the entrance, Jin stood in shock along with the other people in line.

Whispers continued throughout the day as Seokjin apologized and cleaned up the mess, he ended up dropping more drinks throughout the day as his mind was trying to deduce how the man made it to his side of the counter when the door to the back was locked, he couldn't remember if he saw the man jump the counter, but that would be impossible. Not a thing was out of place.

Seokjin had one thing in mind all day long, “where can I meet him again”

A/N: Hope you liked it! ill try and update regularly!

#bts namjoon #bts fanfic #bts jin #namjin #fanfic #bangtan

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shiny-procrastinates · 3 years

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(re)Watching Magia Record S1 - part 6

part 5 here

Hello everyone, welcome back! Today, we will be watching episode 6. Last time, some really weird (well, weirder than normal), pre-established rule breaking things happened to some of our girls. How come? Is Kaede going to be alright? Will Yachiyo fill Iroha in on what happened? We'll have to watch to find out.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story: Magia Record S1 episode 6

We open this episode with a, uhhh... alluring...? Witch show. A group of unknown magical girls is hunting this witch. Seeing the amount of familiars, the girls in front decide to revise their plan, but the girl called Felicia just barges right in, forcing her team to follow after her.

Seems this girl has a real beef with witches.

Hey, Tsuruno's now in the opening!

Rather than continuing the scene before the opening, we are now back to Iroha, who stayed over at Yachiyo's place after the events from the previous episode.

The two eat breakfast, and we learn that Yachiyo's place used to be a bording house. That explains why it's so big.

Iroha thanks Yachiyo for cleaning her Soul Gem, to which Yachiyo is like "?" for a moment before connecting the dots. As it stands, it seems like Iroha doesn't know what happened and Yachiyo's not telling her either. On the one hand, that seems like a bad idea, on the other, well, we saw Kaede's reaction.

Yachiyo changes subject to Iroha's plans for today.

...thanks, Takarazaki Milk, for reminding us where Iroha's from.

Iroha's going to be investigating Kamihama some more, so Yachiyo advises her to keep being a magical girl a secret as best as she can, particularly if she's going east beyond Chuo Ward. Wonder why the direction matters.

...not really important, but I'm bothered I can't remember what this place is.

Iroha takes a walk around Sankyo Ward looking for Ui, finally arriving at a weeeird part of town.

Other than telling her not to walk around at night, maybe Yachiyo should've told her not to enter places that seem out of a horror movie. Also, maybe Iroha's just so used to witch Labyrinths this doesn't even register as bizarre to her anymore. (It's probably just Shaft being Shaft).

This... really is almost a Labyrinth, isn't it.

This couldn't get more suspicious if it tried. It might as well have someone screaming "scam!".

Iroha is offered a bottle and hesitates to accept until she sees

the kid berserker from before drinking it.

Still, I get Felicia, but did your parents not teach you not to accept things from strangers, Iroha?

But well, for the moment, the water itself seems to be fine, other than it being drugs. No way this'll blow up on their faces or anything.

In any case, Iroha goes back to her wandering. It seems she's in Kosho Ward right now.

Now, not only did Iroha accept things from strangers, she also did the one thing Yachiyo warned her about: she got outed as a magical girl.

Good thing the Soul Gem rings work as name tags too. It's written "Felicia".

Iroha's now being extorted by a 13 y.o.

Not that she's that much older, but still.

Thankfully(?) she's saved by a witch appearing.

This witch seems a bit like the one on the start of the episode. Felicia, of course, doesn't even need Iroha's help, she just wrecks everything with her big ol' hammer. Rather, it's more dangerous for Iroha herself to be there lol

Look at that cute smile.

Felicia goes right back to extorting... I mean, asking Iroha for payment. Iroha makes the fair point that she didn't ask for her help, but Felicia makes the even fairer point that a weakling like her would be dead if she hadn't, so Iroha finds herself with no choice but to pay up... in ice cream. Seems her allowance's running dry from coming to Kamihama every day.

The two go for some ice cream and start bonding. This girl is Felicia Mitsuki, and she makes a living as a mercenary who takes on jobs from other magical girls.

While Iroha's out doing ill-advised things and making new friends, Yachiyo's dropping by the Coordinator's and happens to overhear the team who had hired Felicia before, and...

Oh my god Mitama what have you done this time. This is blasphemy towards food, you know.

Alas, a wanted sign is kinda too much for a simple warning, don't you think?

Seems like Felicia's (un)famous for her berserker tendencies.

Yachiyo came here to hear some new information about the rumors, but first she has to deal with a new guest.

Ohhh talking about food, look who's here. It's Kyoko!

Apparently, Kyoko came here due to the decrease in witches in the surrounding regions. She expected she'd get into trouble hunting witches in another magical girl's territory, but Yachiyo says it's fine as long as she doesn't pick a fight with anybody. She's let down by how easy it was but says she'll just do whatever then. While she's at it, she also pokes at the same thing Mami said about someone gathering witches, but Yachiyo shoots her down right away. Did Kyoko hear something from Mami or did Kyuubei tell her this?

Back to Iroha and Felicia, the two are still on their lucky strike. Hey, seems the Lucky Owl Water wasn't a scam after all!

The two just keep on winning and winning (also who let kids into casino) and as expected Iroha's starting to get suspicious about their unnatural luck.

"I still got a dupe"

After winning amounts of money that would probably make broke college student Yachiyo jealous, the two go out to have lunch.

Felicia compliments Iroha's guts to enter the east like that, and Iroha takes the opportunity to ask her if she knows her sister. (not related but the way the table is set gives a great sense of the difference in age and tastes between these two. Iroha's a simple and responsible girl, so her food is only japanese cuisine and problably only as much as she can eat, while Felicia is a kid who probably never had this amount of money, so it looks like she just went ahead and ordered everything she wanted to eat.)

Felicia offers making an exclusive contract with Iroha, and Iroha asks why is Felicia even a mercenary at all. Felicia says if she doesn't work she can't eat, so Iroha asks where are her parents, to which Felicia responds, well...

They're dead. They were killed by a witch. That explains why Felicia's got a thing with witches.

As if she had guessed the uncomfortable atmosphere, Yachiyo calls. Iroha glances hesitatingly a moment at Felicia before answering. Seems Yachiyo has information about a new rumor.

...wait, isn't Lucky Owl Water the thing Felicia and Iroha drank just earlier? So it was a scam after all!

Perfect fashion sense there, Tsuruno.

Iroha and Felicia go meet up with Tsuruno and Yachiyo. Tsuruno knows who Felicia is, and Felicia knows who Yachiyo is, but has no idea about Tsuruno. While Tsuruno protests this, Yachiyo scolds Iroha for failing her one job, and warns her about Felicia's berserker tendencies.

Yachiyo confirms that Iroha has drank the Lucky Owl Water, and tells her the contents of the rumor about it. So basically, once you drink it, 24 lucky things will happen to you and after these 24 things are over a barrage of bad luck will follow. Yachiyo doesn't know what that "bad luck" actually entails, but she has found that even magical girls have gone missing this time.

Felicia thinks all this is a bunch of nonsense so Yachiyo tells her to just go away then. Felicia does just that, but kind-hearted Iroha stops her from going away by hiring her.

Felicia names her prices and Iroha's about to pay, but Yachiyo tells her to make it something besides money, so Iroha offers making Felicia dinner instead.

Look at her, Felicia really is a nice kid. Not only did she half her price instead of doubling it if it's not a witch, she's totally fine with being paid in food. I mean, there is the fact that she needs to work to eat but... she's not cut out for running a mercenary business.

Still, for the moment, Felicia's not part of the team.

Iroha and co. go back to where Iroha drank the Lucky Owl Water and, although everyone's still blissfully unaware of how bizarre this place is, it seems they now can see the familiars(?) as familiars. Is it that thing? The one where you can only perceive what you are looking for?

Felicia picks a fight with the... uh... Thing, please give us a name anime, and it disappears. Yachiyo chides Felicia for jumping the gun, and the two start fighting.

*Kaos noises*

Tsuruno appropriately cuts in, and Yachiyo theorizes that, just like the previous times, they'll have to find and beat the rumor's true form in order to undo it. Preferably before Iroha and Felicia's luck runs out.

Aaand Kyoko was listening in on them.

Iroha and co. start investigating the rumor. Seems the storyteller from the scenes explaining the contents of the rumors aren't just for show, they actually exist, though the girls hearing the rumor from it don't seem to notice it's not human.

Oh, there. That'd explain why Iroha and Felicia didn't notice the Owl Water the first time... still doesn't excuse them from accepting things from strangers though, lol

...look at Yachiyo's cool composure as she pins down poor Felicia. Brutal.

The girls chase after the storyteller familiar. Now peeps, if you've been paying close attention, you'll notice this episode has been counting down Iroha's and Felicia's luck ever since they drank the Lucky Owl Water. Neat, right? I won't post all of them since 24 is a lot, but did you guys catch it?

Anyways,

while chasing down the familiar, the girls are surrounded by a group of weirdos in hoods. Managing to string together a sentence with their impeccable coordination, they tell our girls they are obstructing the Magius's plans, whoever that is, by chasing the Rumor. It's just for a moment, but the screen flashes that one paper slip that's slapped everywhere there's rumors involved. I'm also pretty sure there's one inside Yachiyo's notebook too.

The group continues their speech and Yachiyo conveniently translates for us: they're saying they'll give them the water everyday, as long as they keep away from the Rumor.

Tsuruno protests that there are magical girls who got caught up in this rumor, but the group continue with their talk of Magius and telling them not to interfere.

I really like the panning in this one shot. You clearly get a sense of how while the older girls, Yachiyo and Tsuruno, know something's up and are willing to bonk the weirdos, Iroha and Felicia are in doubt about what these girls are saying. Their mind spaces are so different separating them just with the shadows wasn't enough: they had to be in different frames altogether.

...I don't think the person who decided on this thought that far, but still.

Anyway, Felicia bites their bait and asks about the "all witches will disappear" part. The weirdos, who know about Felicia, say they'll hire her. The reward? The elimination of all witches.

Too bad Iroha, seems your handmade dinner wasn't an appetizing enough reward.

So! Felicia decided to go with these weirdos, the Wings of the Magius, who say they know a way to get rid of all witches. Well... that'd better be a more efficient method than the one Suzune thought, or else they're not getting anywhere.

Going by what they said, these girls have something to do with the rumors... or rather, Rumors, because that's not confusing at all. They also said something about salvation, so they probably have something to do with the rampant dream-ads that the magical girls outside Kamihama are having. How rude. I wonder how much would you have to pay for one of those?

Jokes aside, with this, we finally have a new lead on the weird things going on in Kamihama. And not only us, either. Kyoko also learnt something about the Rumors. Which brings up the question: where is Mami? She should be investigating Kamihama, but she hasn't shown up since she tried to shoot Iroha. Weird.

Well, the only way to answer the obscene amount of questions this show likes to bring up is by watching, but before I finish this up I'd like to write down the numbers on this episode:

24-23: Felicia's ice cream's package; 23-22: raffle ticket; 22-21: raffle drawing; 21-20: falling coins; 20-19: slot machine's label; 19-18: bet nº; 18-17: fever!; 17-16: Magireco's game currency (lol); 16-15: the table's number; 15-14: the paper one of the familiars is holding; 14-13: formed by the light on the ground.

Nothing lucky happens after that one, so I think these are the ones in this episode. I feel this was the first time in all my rewatches I caught the one on Felicia's ice cream and the one the familiar was holding, so maybe I got some of that luck too, haha.

This ran on longer than I thought it would for Felicia's introduction episode. I'll be releasing you people from this barrage of text now, so I hope I'll still see you next time when we watch episode 7. Have a good morning/afternoon/evening! Bye-bye!

#Magia Record #Puella Magi Madoka Magica #magireco #pmmm magia record

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oldmishmesh · 4 years

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two.

masterlist

Prompt: Hanahaki disease is a rare illness which only one in every 500M people have. That goes to say, not a lot of people have it. It is also called ‘Lovesick-parasite’, in which unrequited feelings send a special kind of harmful chemical from the brain that is commonly found in flowers, thus leading to the person vommiting blood with flower petals and the like. The cure for it? Undergoing a surgery, but in the process, all feeling for the person who they love will be lost.

Y/n L/n, a famous youtuber with over 300k subscribers, who posts music covers, original songs, medleys, mashups, and the like, just so happens to have Hanahaki disease. And who’s she crushing on? Iwaizumi Hajime who was also her next-door neighbor before she moved to Tokyo. Now in Nekoma’s vbc as their manager, and keeping in touch with Iwaizumi, feelings become deadly.

notes: this might look short but originally i had part two planned out but then i realized ‘oh shit this is too much for only one part’ imo and i like.. cut it in half, so double updates today! anywho i’ll go post part three soon after this uploads

taglist: @tobioswifey @apricotjihyo @kalesveggietales @chaelysian @supahumbreon @cuddlesslut (want to be added? send an ask or a dm! i love interacting with new people! 🥺💞)

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disconnected-from-reality · 5 years

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Fanfic Rec: 00Q Part 3

It’s been more than a year! I have totally been procrastinating in doing this if I’m truly honest. A lot of things happened in my life as well! There are good and bad things, but what matters most is that I still have a number of fics to recommend for you! I haven’t stopped reading, don’t worry.

Also I think it’s a good time to post my list. The next Bond movie has released its trailer and the 00Q crumbs we got from the trailer got a lot of shippers back on board. If you’re that person, you might want to check these fanfics out!

To see the other parts, click here for part 1 and for part 2.

Let Love In by dhampir72 [Words: 21,437 | Teens and Up Audiences] They're still learning that love is more of a journey and less of a destination. [A series of interconnected vignettes].

Ulysses by girlbookwrm [Words: 89,065 | Teens and Up Audiences] “Paperwork for the new head of Q-Branch,” Tanner said. “Of course.” The words were like glass in his throat. Smoke inhalation was a bitch. His brain felt slow and foggy, like it was full of smoke too. “Who shall I take them to?” M lifted one white brow. “They’re for you, Quartermaster.” Bond and Q are drawn together by names, work, and a certain Aston Martin. In which Q is kidnapped once, Bond is poisoned twice, and Eve is a badass on at least three occasions. AKA that time I tripped and wrote 80,000 words of 00Q. All titles unapologetically stolen from Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

Espionage is a Family Affair by nagapdragon [Words: 78.403 | Mature] It's common knowledge that angels make good weapons and terrible soldiers. They're hard to kill, hard to catch, and leave a swathe of destruction wherever they go. That's why MI6 likes them. James Bond, Agent 007, is one of the most devastating weapons MI6 will admit to having. Explosions follow his every whim and he's nearly impossible to kill, despite the best efforts of terrorists worldwide. He's second only to the weapons MI6 pretends don't exist- archangels are only a theory, after all. Aren't they?

Bond to You by therunawaypen [Words: 5,749 | Mature] Bond isn't a name. It's a rare breed of people that have designated soulmates, to whom a Bond will be eternally faithful to. Every child dreams of being a Bond's Chosen soulmate. James uses his status as a Bond to seduce many a mark into thinking they're his Chosen, while deep down he resents his identity because he has been unable to find his Chosen. Then he meets Q that fateful day in front of that painting.

How Q Hacked Online Dating by JayPendragon [Words: 23,836 | Explicit] “How does that lead to…?” Eve waves her hand at the mess behind Q’s back. Q feels his expression morph into a sly grin. “I have a new plan. I’m going to stay on these dating platforms, but I’m going to treat them as databases. Rather than waiting for an algorithm to set me up, I'm going to try reverse-engineering this entire system.” In which Q works in the private sector, still winds up friends with Eve, and applies science to his love life. Obviously, Eve gets involved.

Leading Edge by Batsutousai [Words: 7,251 | Teens and Up Audiences] All fae-born were raised on stories of how cruel dragon-borns were, how they had no care for anyone outside themselves and their greed, that they would sell their own mother's soul to the devil before allowing themselves to be hurt. They were told that all dragon-borns were to be killed on sight, and taught spells that would do just that, if ever given the chance. It would be just Q's luck that one of his agents was dragon-born.

Pen and Paper by Salios [Words: 5,300 | Teens and Up Audiences] Q wrung his hands anxiously, teeth gnawing at his lower lip. It was a bad habit, biting his lip, but he couldn’t help it when he was nervous. And he really did have reason to be nervous. Well, excited to the point of nearly crippling nervousness, actually. Today he’d finally get to meet his boyfriend of three years. For the first time ever.

people can surprise you (or not) by pdameron [Words: 10,538 | Teens and Up Audiences] “I’m not you, Bond. I don’t exactly have a technique for getting rich strangers to like me.” “Just do your naive cute puppy thing, and they’ll be doting on you in no time,” Bond replies as he pulls up to the grand estate. “My what?” Q asks incredulously. Bond doesn’t answer, simply giving him an indulgent smile. The fucker. (or: 00q meets Gosford Park. Except not really.)

A Common Solution by SailorChibi [Words: 17,654 | Teens and Up Audiences] Bond has been ignoring his biological needs. Boothroyd is retiring and MI6 is in need of a new Quartermaster. What do these two things have in common? They both have an easy solution... if only M can get Bond to extract a certain hacker NOTE: This does not have the “James Bond/Q” tag, but I’ll add it in my list anyway.

Taken by Nana_41175 [Words: WIP | Explicit] Or, the cheating fic that *nearly* is! Q is engaged to be married, but not to Bond. Excerpt: Bond blinked. “Boyfriend? What do you mean, boyfriend?” “I mean exactly that,” said Moneypenny. “Honestly, what’s the matter with you? Q’s been seeing someone for over a year. And if I’m not mistaken, Daniel is going to pop the question on him this evening. Dan asked me for advice on the ring, after all.” NOTE: This is currently a WIP fanfic, but it’s almost done with 2 chapters left to be posted. Would be a bummer if I don’t add it, right?

His Keeper by Nana_41175 [Words: 45,482 | Explicit] Protecting the Quartermaster entails a special set of circumstances, and Q is the last one to know. Excerpt: “Your identity has been compromised,” M said as he leaned forward in his chair, his features grim even as his tone remained even and calm. “I am standing you down from all your duties in Q branch. Kindly hand in all personal computers and devices. I am placing you on administrative leave, effective immediately. You need to disappear for a while, Q, for your own safety. Think of this as the holiday you never had these past two years. We will get down to the bottom of this and repair the damage done; otherwise I shall have to ask you to step down. ”Q gaped at him, finally speechless. “At any rate, quartermasters are entitled to double-O agents as bodyguards, when the need arises, and he personally volunteered,” M continued as though he’d not just dropped the equivalent of a bomb and a death sentence through slow torture rolled into one, “and I do agree that under the circumstances, 007 would be the best choice as your bodyguard.”

Daddy and Uncle James by 1MissMolly [Words: 26,115 | Teens and Up Audiences] James Bond can remain cool and collected in the most trying of circumstances. He is an expert at hand to hand combat and marksman with numerous weapons. He can seduce any woman or man he chooses. He has the highest success rate at achieving his goals, and he has his sights on the young Quartermaster. The only thing standing in his way is the only thing that will surely defeat him. A six year old girl named Elizabeth Park. Bond's planned seduction of Q is interrupted by the arrival of Q's daughter, Lizzie.

Treason, Traitors, and Treachery by Kryptaria, zooeyscigar [Words: 63,230 | Mature] All James Bond wanted was a quiet holiday on his luxury motoryacht on the Costa del Sol. Time to recuperate and think about his future with MI6. But his plans get hijacked when a traitor to the crown returns, bringing news of an even greater threat to MI6. And the traitor isn't working alone.Thankfully, neither is James.

Playing the Part by ElektricAngel [Words: 23,116 | Teens and Up Audiences] James Bond comes into Q Branch after a mission with all of his equipment accounted for and in tact, and a complete mission report in Q's inbox. Q is pleasantly surprised and more than a little suspicious. Rightly so, as it happens, because Bond makes an unusual request of him. And yet, his license to kill is not the only thing that makes the man difficult to say no to...

Breathe With Me by Flantastic [Words: 7,575 | Explicit] When James Bond goes back to MI6 following his disastrous relationship with Dr Madeleine Swann, Q wants nothing to do with him. Then there's an accident in Q-Branch...

Bittersweet by dr_girlfriend [Words: 14,229 | Explicit] The first time Bond flirted with Q, it was purely out of self-defense. The second time Bond flirted with Q was largely manipulation. The third time Bond flirted with Q, he just wanted to feel something. The fourth time Bond flirted with Q was out of sheer boredom.Somehow, flirting with Q became something of a habit for Bond.And then, it became something else.

A Bond of Matrimony by enigma_kar [Words: 12,691 | Mature] The one where Bond’s next mission involves going undercover with Q. Includes: banter, fake marriage, espionage, car chases, life-or-death situations, and Moneypenny taking far too much delight in the whole affair.

as permanent as stone cathedrals by pdameron [Words: 6,002 | Teens and Up Audiences] Q has been in love for two years, six months, and twelve days when James Bond walks away, leaving him with a bleeding head and a broken heart on a dark and noisy London bridge.

just like old times (please don’t ever change) by Rosslyn [Words: 5,173 | Teens and Up Audiences] Sometimes when Q is alone in his workshop and there is an experiment that needs to be supervised and he can’t go home and he can’t sleep, he watches Bond’s vitals.

How Much Love Can the Weight of Water Carry? by 00QEros (Dassandre) [Words: 39,549 | Explicit] Though Bond returned to MI6 after his ill advised jaunt around the globe with Madeleine Swann, Q still struggles with his own feelings for the agent in spite of the fact that Bond is clearly not the same man as the one who walked away from their friendship on Westminster Bridge. James regrets having left London and MI6, but it is nothing in comparison to the remorse he feels for abandoning Q. However, James has made repairing their friendship his primary goal in the hope of gaining something he never realised he needed as badly as he does. But Bond really hasn’t had a good time of it lately. Breaking his leg in a freak accident, James camps out at Q’s flat when the white-washed, soulless walls of Medical become too much for him to tolerate. Unfortunately, his leg is only the beginning of Bond’s health problems, and Q is conscripted into being James’ caretaker. Confined to the close quarters of Q’s flat, the Quartermaster finds himself opening back up to the agent, but will the two men find their way to one another as they should have done years ago, or is time no longer on their side?

So I guess that’s it for now! I still have a couple in my belt, but most of them are still WIP so I’d keep them for now. I’ll be adding them once they are finished.

#00Q #James Bond #Q(James Bond)#fanfic rec #fic rec

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doof-doofblog · 4 years

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"You And Me, We're Done, For Good!"

Double Episode Catch-Up

Monday 1st March - Tuesday 2nd March 2021

Hello again everyone! Hope your week is going well so far! I've decided again today that in a desperate attempt to catch up, I'm going to do another post reviewing two episodes. I feel my last post went well and the way I wrote it felt really good, so I'm hoping this one will be the same. So I'll be reviewing the episodes of Monday and Tuesday this week,

Wow, wow, wow!!! An emotional dramatic roller-coaster that's for sure! Okay so I feel there are two main things to focus on, but before we start on them I'm going to start with Whitney and Gray. So after Valentine's Day it looks as if Whitney and Kush have been having a secret fling. Their romance hasn't come to knowledge for everyone yet, as they appear to be enjoying each other's company, Whitney is ushered away as Gray contacts her to look after the children. Of course, being how kind, caring and understanding Kush is, lets her go to do her job at childminding. Whitney goes a out her day looking after the kids, but when Gray comes home asking where the children are, Whitney informs him that they're playing with Raymond over at Denise's, now I get Gray would be concerned as Lucas has returned, but he has no knowledge about Lucas, plus the children wouldn't be there unsupervised, Denise wouldn't allow that considering what she knows, so I feel Gray getting angry with Whitney was completely unnecessary - but then again, when has Gray ever done something which is necessary?! Something tells me if he flips about Whitney letting his children go out to play, how the heck is he going to react when he learns she's been building a relationship with Kush?! It's been known that Gray has hold a spark for Whitney, but it looks as if she just sees him as a mate - I fear what's going to happen when Gray learns about Whitney and Kush, what do you guys think?!

Awwwww Isaac and Lola?! I wasn't sure I was going to enjoy this relationship? I always did love Lola being with Jay, but I'm beginning to think that this could really go somewhere! It looks as if Isaac really does have strong feelings for Lola and after recent events of confronting his Mother to deal with his diagnosis, he's ready to tell Lola about his condition. As they enjoy another date, they were discussing movies and I have to be honest, I loved this moment, I enjoyed how natural it was. The banter, the laughing, genuinely getting to know each other more, but the interesting moment when Lola tells him to reveal something to her that she doesn't know about him, he does look a bit scared, a bit hesitant to tell her the truth, but eventually he admits that he has schizophrenia.

Now understandably, this would worry Lola. But I think she dealt the news brilliantly! Very understanding, caring - almost as if it didn't matter. She's still willing to go on dates with him and even move further into a relationship. However when she's back home after the date, maybe just to put her mind at rest, she tries asking a type of "Alexa" whether schizophrenia is dangerous, but it looks as if it doesn't work and the device doesn't respond. Just then, Isaac arrives with desserts with huge happy smiles across his face, but Lola kind of digs herself a hole when the device has a delayed response, informing her about schizophrenia right in front of Isaac. I do feel this was a little awkward, predictable maybe, but it made for brilliant viewing. Even Isaac finds the funny side and admits that he understands her concern and reassures her about any worries she may have for the future. Even the following scene where they're enjoying their dessert together, I love how Isaac is reminiscing about his teenage years and informing Lola of the time he told a friend about his diagnosis, I found it really really moving.

As I explained in my last post, I don't know the full detail when it comes to schizophrenia, I had to do a bit of research to understand, but I'll be interested to see if Isaac's condition deteriorates or becomes worse. Isn't it a bit predictable? Isaac finds happiness with Lola, only for his illness to escalate and go out of control? This is EastEnders after all, nothing is ever simple or easy and happiness doesn't last for very long. I'll be interested to see if they do an episode which focuses completely on Isaac and his mental health, as they've done with Stacey and Bobby in previous episodes, I think it would be great for the viewers to learn and understand what schizophrenia entails for those suffering with it.

Okay so finally I know the name of character, it's Stas!!!!! After how many episodes now? Three maybe? His name is pronounced loud and clear! (Also thank you to a few subtitles!). Okay so this story regarding Ben, Kheerat and Stas kind of makes sense. So Ben and Kheerat have joined forces in a way to do business with Stas. Did anyone else feel for Vinny though? I felt bad the way Vinny was dragged into all of this. I think Vinny hesitates when he learns that his brother is doing business with Mitchell's but also states that it'll be a bold move to get their family name out there and heard of.

Things seem to be going well for a Panesar's, that is until a dodgy shoplifter is spotted in their shop, both Kheerat and Vinny take it upon themselves to lock the shoplifter in the shop and confront them. Can I also just mention how brilliant Kheerat was in this scene, it was a strong and powerful performance from Jaz Deol. I don't know why I loved it so much, but I felt like it was a type of speech that we've never seen before, well maybe apart from Masood a few years back. I kind of see Kheerat as a younger version of Masood in a way, what do you think?! Eventually a plan is put in place for Ben, Kheerat and Stas to meet at the Arches. As far as I can make out, Stas is expecting for receive his money - money for what, I don't know? But either way Kheerat tries to reassure Stas that his "Dirty money" will be delivered. The one moment that did grab my attention though is when Stas basically insulted Ben about his sexuality, I mean - how dare he!

As time drags on, Stas seems to get a little impatient for his money and from the looks of things, Vinny is meant to be the one who's delivering the money. Stas starts to lose his temper and pulls out a gun, in an attempt to hurry things along he puts on some music as a timer for when he wants his money to be delivered, but unbeknown to everyone, as Vinny is rushing to get the money to the Arches on time, he gets approached by the shoplifter along with a huge gang, cornering him in his path. It's far to say that as the music is continuing to play, both Ben and Kheerat are fearing for their life as Stas threatens to blow up the building as a he points a gun to a gas canister. Poor Vinny is trapped, he tries his best to fight his way out of the brawl, backing into the Vic. Luckily as he enters the pub, he sees Callum sat at the bar, in a desperate attempt to get away safely, he asks Callum for his help. But little does Callum know what he's getting himself involved in, especially considering his job role.

Only, how Callum does help Vinny remains to be seen, as we don't see exactly what Callum does. But eventually, Vinny makes it to the Arches, even though he's late and music has stopped playing, both Ben and Kheerat have managed to talk Stas round in the meantime. Ben admits to his ex-business partner that he had called him "Mad" in the past, but that does not mean that he's stupid. I have to admit watch all this drama unfold, it was pretty exciting stuff, dramatic and very suspenseful. Eventually, Vinny arrives safe and sound with his money still all in tact in the bag, I guess you could say Kheerat and Ben are more than relieved to see his appearance. Kheerat mentions that everything can be forgotten if Stas leaves with the money now and he'll make sure that Stas is given his money every month. As things begin to settle down and Stas leaves with his money, everyone else returns to the Panesar business, Kheerat questions Ben as to whether Stas has always been so erratic in his ways, to which Ben admits he is. Has Kheerat got himself in too deep? As Ben turns his attention to Vinny and questions why he was so late, Vinny reveals to them that he had to ask Callum for help, which completely sends Kheerat in a panic! Considering Callum's job role, who knows what would've happened if Callum had found out the truth? Kheerat voices his disappointment in his brother, claiming that if anything comes back to haunt them, then it's on his head! I do kind of feel for Vinny at this point as well, and when he bumps into Callum later on in the street, it looks as if he's beginning to question his involvement in his brother's business. Does he really want to be handling dodgy deals with his brother and Ben Mitchell? Does he perhaps want to take a different route and do something different with his life? Even Callum admits he could become a police officer, PC Vinny Panesar - who knows?

As Ben returns home after his eventful day, he bumps into Stas for one last time. Showing a bit of interest, he questions who it was who told him the Mitchell's were backstabbing him. It's then that Kat is seen leaving the pub, Stas clocks on to her and informs Ben that it was actually her who blabbed. But the interesting is, how is Ben going to react when he learns Kat has been sleeping with his Dad?! THAT I am looking forward to seeing! Are Phil and Kat actually a serious thing? Or simply just a bit of fun?

Okay, so we have to talk about Ruby don't we? Poor Ruby! I think I'm beginning to feel more sorry for her as time goes on. I don't condone the lying and scheming that she's done, but no one deserves to go through losing a baby, it's the most heart-breaking thing anyone can go through. It's the day after her miscarriage and it looks as if she just wants to carry on, heading to work might even take her mind off of a few things, but Martin tries to persuade her to stay at home. But as Ruby is adamant she wants to go to wrong, she gets an excruciating pain. As Ruby is rushed to hospital, it looks as if Stacey is at home feeling nothing but guilt, does she fear that it's her fault that Ruby lost her baby? I mean, she didn't do anything to harm her, but due to all her stress, could that have caused Ruby to have a miscarriage?

It's eventually revealed that Ruby has suffered a haemorrhage after her miscarriage and they need to empty her womb. I have to say the performances from both James Bye and Louisa Lytton have been brilliant during these episodes, having to watch a young couple grieve for their lost baby, it's devastating! Poor Martin doesn't know how to console his wife, he simply can't find the right words to comfort her. He returns home to get her some more comfortable clothing when Stacey approaches, of course she's riddled with guilt and remorse, she deeply apologises to Martin. I think after everything she and Martin have been through, they know each other better than anyone, so when Martin admits he doesn't know how to be there for Ruby, Stacey tells her ex-husband that all Ruby needs is for him to talk to her, to know how he's feeling, it'll give her some comfort that she's not having to go through this all on her own.

Returning to the hospital, Martin finally finds the courage to open up to his wife. Earlier she questioned why he wasn't angry for losing his child. But he admits that he hasn't gotten past the sad stage, he's still upset and grieving for the child they've lost. He admits that when Ruby announced she was pregnant, he was terrified to begin with, but then he came comfortable with the idea and it made him happy to be a Dad again and to bring up a child with her. It would've completed their family. It looks as if this is what Ruby has been waiting to hear, she's needed to know exactly how her husband has been feeling, it seems this is the first time he's been completely open with her. I found this whole entire storyline so touching you know, upsetting as well as touching, dramatic. Performances from everyone involved have been incredible!

I kind of feel Stacey also as she's having to deal with the knowledge that she was there when Ruby fell, could she have done something more to help her? If they hadn't been arguing, she probably wouldn't have fell? All these questions would understandably going round and round in her head! As she stands on the Square with a bunch of flowers, she watches as Ruby and Martin return home from the hospital. Kush notices her and offers to go with her for support. As they enter their house, Ruby is pretty much stunned to see Stacey walking in with a bunch of flowers, I think she almost takes it as an insult. Stacey pleads for them to stop fighting and arguing, too much has no happened because of their horrendous arguments. But Ruby seems to have none of it, maybe she feels that there's too much water under the bridge for them ever to rekindle their friendship. Ruby then drops the false blow that Stacey was to blame for her miscarriage because she had pushed her down the stairs.

Now this is a false accusation, I don't how guys see this, but Stacey did not push her. Ruby followed Stacey up the stairs, but as Stacey turned, Ruby's ankle gave way and she fell. Stacey denies the allegation and pleads for Martin to understand that she'd never do something like that. But then Ruby takes it one step further by revealing to her husband that both Stacey and Kush locked her in the office and forced her to take a pregnancy test to prove to them that she was in fact pregnant. As awful and disgusting that was, Stacey tries to fight her corner, claiming that she was just looking out for her ex-husband. Ruby had been lying about so much and they feel they had good reason to check whether she was telling the truth or not.

As everyone continues to argue, poor Martin is just sat there as everything seems to sink in, the loss of his child, the accusation against Stacey and then revelation of how they treated Ruby. It all gets completely too much for him, causing him to completely explode. Telling them all to stop arguing, he exits the room and leaves the house, Kush following to console his best mate. But Martin appears to be absolutely furious, lashing out at Kush and punching him to the floor. Kush tells his friend to punch him again if it makes him feel any better, but he also reminds Martin that he knows exactly how he's currently feeling. Kush has been there! He's lost a child! I think some people do sometimes forget about that, it was one of the most tear-jerking moments I have ever seen on EastEnders, when Kush and Shabnam lost their son, Zaair.

The next scene between Martin and Kush is really loved, it was sad, moving and to be honest, it was nice having Kush remember holding his still-born son. Devastatingly, Martin never even got the opportunity to hold his new child, but I think this brief talk with Kush does help him in some way. Kush even asks him whether he's cried for his loss yet, but when Martin admits he hasn't, Kush informs him that that's where he needs to start. If Martin is worried about Ruby and trying to be there for her, he needs to make sure that he can also grieve himself before he can look after his wife. He voices that he's finding it hard to believe that Stacey would purposely push Ruby down the stairs just so she would lose their baby, I mean anyone would find it hard to believe that anyone would/could be that cruel! The final scene of the episode, Martin is sat on Arthur's bench in the Square, he looks to be in deep thoughts of the days events, but as Stacey approaches him, he realises that things between them can't be as they once were. He needs to be there for his wife, she is more important than anything right now and maybe the best thing for everyone would be if Martin and Ruby had nothing more to do with each other, he reassures her that they'll be civil for the children's sake, but the kiss they shared at Christmas was a huge mistake. He's been over her for a long time now and Ruby is his priority, as far as he's concerned, his relationship with Stacey is over, for good!

Overall a very emotional and dramatic set of episodes! I apologise for this post being so so late, I have to admit I've been a little distracted and had a few breaks during the day whilst I've been writing this, but I'm glad to have finished and have it up now! I'm looking forward to seeing where these different stories go, please feel free to leave me a comment or a message letting me know what you're think, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thank you everyone! I love you all xXx

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risrielthron · 4 years

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Who We Were

This took a good long while because there was a retcon in November of 2015 that kinda forced Risri into hiatus. When I brought her back for the paper in 2016, some details changed but still this was an eye-opening exercise of how I’ve grown as both an RPer and a writer. Anything that does not have brackets is the same.

Take a trip down memory lane, pull up the oldest ‘about’ post you can find for your character, and annotate what has changed and what has stayed the same in {Curly brackets}.

(I borrowed this from @alyssa-ward because what a cool exercise)

Originally posted October 4, 2015

Character’s full name: Risri Elthron Reason or meaning of name: combination of Mother's best friend's name (still alive) and her mother's sister who died - Rislana (best friend) and Kiari (sister). The Elthron family have mostly played a back seat in the history of the Kaldorei. {Both of these origins have kind of changed. Risri’s name became a place that her parents named her after, something that was important to her father’s family in an RP with her aunt. The last name Elthron was chosen by Risri during her exile her original family name is Kal’serrar.} Character’s nickname: Ris Reason for nickname: just a short form of Risri

Physical appearance

Age: 403 {she has aged 1 rl year each year since 2015 she is currently 408 years old} How old does he/she appear: to a human about 20ish {I actually think now she probably seems a little older to people) Weight: We don't ask ladies this! Though she looks healthy and toned. {I figure she’s whatever the average weight is for female elves} Height: Average for a Kaldorei {This has changed a bit. I have her just a tad shorter than Dragaur in human form so she’s 6’2” which apparently is short for an elf} Body build: She's not a body builder but her activities keep her in shape. Shape of face: Typical Kaldorei {She did not have a face claim at the time nor did she have art. Her face looks like this art the most.}

Eye color: White {I list it as silver now} Glasses or contacts: none Skin tone: light purplish Distinguishing marks: Claw tattoo (gained during her Druid initiation ceremony) Hair color: Purple Type of hair: Long Hairstyle: up in a ponytail or straight down her back {when I first made Risri I had her in the pigtail hair style. I quickly didnt like how it looks and changed it to the long style she sports now. It has not changed since} Voice: typically soft {I imagine her voice and accent a bit like Gal Gadot’s natural voice} Overall attractiveness: again not really caught up in her appearance so someone may need to tell her and even then she will more than likely blush and stammer a thank you. {This has changed so so much from when I first created her. She knows she is lovely and she will probably think you want something from her if you flatter her appearance.} Physical disabilities: none Usual fashion of dress: For events: dresses...she has discovered she likes pretty pretty dresses. For class: simple black pants and a simple shirt {So this too has changed from when I first created her. She aims for comfort and style. She most often will be found in one of these} Favorite outfit: Dresses, she found a lovely gold and white dress that has become her favorite {I dont even know what dress this was but Im sure it was something from my early days on wra-I would say her favorite outfit is probably one of the ones above} Jewelry or accessories: She wears a button on a string around her neck. She fondles it every so often. {The button on a string has actually moved to her bag, she now sports a ruby necklace from Dragaur, her bracelet with several charms on it, and always has her camera}

Personality

Alignment: Good {I think I would classify Risri now as more neutral these days} Good personality traits: Loves animals, children, books, meeting new people (even though she can be shy, she enjoys it), giving, loyal {This is all true except for the shyness, I don’t actually rp Risri as shy. She may be standoffish but thats cause IRL I am shy but Risri most definitely has no fear of talking to people} Bad personality traits: shyness can sometimes stop her from joining in, when she is caught up in research she may ignore others not to be hurtful she just gets caught up {I think this one goes with the other, as for bad traits today, I usually say she can be stuck in her ways at times and can be over protective} Mood character is most often in: happy {I would say this is still true but she’s had her share of pain} Sense of humor: silly things make her laugh {Not so much silly things but she definitely has a more snarky is funny sense of humor} Character’s greatest joy in life: running in the forest as a cat {Taking pictures and being a druid are equal} Character’s greatest fear: the death of her mother {This has actually come out in RP as a fear of mind control. She would fear the death of her mother but mind control tops it.} Why? Her mother and her are very close (unusual for Kaldorei, as they grow up communally typically), travelling with her mother in her formative years they relied upon each other What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Ris would be devastated if something happened to her mother {I think the death of Latilda, and then when she thought Dragaur was dead, and subsequently the death of Suzi in the office are three of the most profound things that made Risri change some. Her fel contamination would come a close fourth Currently, if something was to really happen to Dragaur, Sky, or Selise it would mess up Risri for a while} Character is most at ease when: Researching {Funnily enough this might still be true, but I would say taking pictures is probably more} Most ill at ease when: at war {This is true, but as she found out both at Darkshore and recently when there are forsaken involved she has no hesitation in killing.} Enraged when: witnessing senseless destruction of sacred places or artifacts {I completely forgot that I chose that, but I would say it has not changed. She also does not stand for people she cares about being hurt, this one is tricky though and I often have to tame it down because of interactions with others.} Depressed or sad when: she is a pretty positive individual, depression and sadness are fleeting if they happen at all. {This has matured over time. She gets very introspective at times and definitely will seek alone time when she is sad.} Priorities: Learn about as many cultures as she can, current focus is Treants. {So long ago… Her priorities currently are her studio, Dragaur, and helping the Kaldorei still homeless.} Life philosophy: Learn, Learn, Learn then share it all! {This was definitely written back in my Stormwind University days. Her philosophy “Be kind. It’s worthwhile to make an effort to learn about other people and figure out what you might have in common with them.”} Character’s soft spot: her Sprite Darter "Flutter" {Also a certain worgen} Is this soft spot obvious to others? Sometimes {while I dont play it up too much she is very attached to Flutter. As for the worgen, yes when they are together it is clear she has a soft spot for the gruff one} Greatest strength: Passion for learning {This is probably still true but I would say she also is a pretty good photographer and a loyal friend.} Greatest vulnerability or weakness: Naivety of how the world really works even though she has travelled the two main continents extensively she has been sheltered by her mother. {This was one of the things I retconned out of her when I brought her back for the paper. Risri may be unknowing of some human interactions but she is far from naive in most cases.} Biggest regret: That one time at band camp...seriously she is young so right now she doesn't have one but this may play into her development and story later. {HUGE change here... in fleshing her out in RP the biggest regret is and always will be the incident that forced her out of the Sentinels but not the results because it let her become a druid so its a double edged regret} Minor regret: she forgot to tell her mom about the time she ...oh that might not be appropriate for here {Again a change that came about from RP, that she threatened Dragaur with turning him in. She would never do that and she said it in a moment of frustration with him during a fight. It hurt them both too much.} Biggest accomplishment: coming soon {Running the paper. Opening her studio. either} Minor accomplishment: joining the University! {so many things, her writings, some of her photographs, saving people at Teldrassil, helping the Kaldorei in Stormwind.} Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: she was almost not able to become a druid...story for another time {This also changed with the retcon, but I would say the time she spent before coming to Stormwind would be something she would not want others to know about and will probably not talk about to anyone.} Why? She loves being a druid so not being one… {I have thoughts about what she was doing but its not fleshed out. Maybe someday and I can revisit this.} Character’s darkest secret: She is a pretty open book. Maybe later she will have a "dark" secret. {So this dark secret is the fact that she killed 10 Sentinels. That also came with the revamp.} Does anyone else know? {Several people.}

Goals

Drives and motivations: Curiosity unusual for a Kaldorei and need to have answers to questions { I would say this is somewhat still there and aided her when she was a reporter, but her drives and motivations are deeper now and the result of RP. She wants to make amends and sees her work with the Kaldorei refugees as part of that.} Immediate goals: Make friends with the treant she met at the Grove of Ancients {Keep her business running, aid the Kaldorei} Long term goals: Become an expert in as many cultures as she can {Live} How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Locate writings and interviewing others, spending time with treants ((her contact will be sending her around Azeroth and Draenor to meet with others)) {So her plan for her immediate goals are tied together. She takes a good portion of her profits from the studio and the two books she’s published to fund her relief efforts} How other characters will be affected: may be pestered for any little detail they have about treants {Most of the people she interacts with in RP would not be impacted.}

Past

Hometown: Darnassus {God I was such a noob. Feralas is her home.} Type of childhood: travelled both continents with her mother {so noob. She spent her youth in Feralas, Ashenvale, and Darkshore.} Pets: Sprite Darter named Flutter and a curious little white kitten {I retconned the kitten. Its only Flutter} First memory: Leaves above her (could be why she is fascinated with the treants...) {I think I’ll leave this one.} Most important childhood memory: Her and her mother on a ship talking into the night {This can stay too} Why? The closeness she felt to her mother {Because of this reason}

Present

Current location: Elwynn Forest, Jazimina Amberstill's "Ranch" {Stormwind City, either Dragaur’s apartment or her studio} Currently living with: Jazimina Amberstill and Ritti {Dragaur} Pets: Sprite Darter "Flutter" Religion: Follower of Elune {no change, add wild gods} Occupation: Researcher {Photographer} Finances: moderate {no change though she has more wealth than she lets on}

Family

Mother: Kahrysta Elthron {Oh wow I totally changed her mother’s name.. Its Alistra Kal’serrar } Relationship with her: good {excellent} Father: Brezlin Elthron Relationship with him: vague memories, he died when she was still a child Siblings: none Relationship with them: Spouse: none Relationship with him/her: Children: none {though she briefly adopted Ritti before they found the gnome’s family} Relationship with them: Other important family members: Mother's best friend Rislana is like an aunt {her aunt Tara, cousins, and another aunt I dont have a name for.}

Favorites

Color: Green and Purple {blues could be added} Least favorite color: Orange {sorry Drag, but I dont think its true anymore} Music: any Food: Chocolate Cookies {See answer here} Literature: Any Form of entertainment: stories {plays, dances could be added} Expressions: "Indeed!" {Its not often I get to use it but I do like it} Mode of transportation: Winterspring Frostsaber, given to her by her mother when she hit adulthood (about 50 years ago) or flight form {Flight form. The frostsaber went away in the retcon} Most prized possession: her journal {Camera}

Habits

Hobbies: Dabbles in alchemy {more than dabbles now} Plays a musical instrument? No Plays a sport: no How he/she would spend a rainy day: reading a book, any book {taking pictures} Spending habits: thrifty {for herself this is probably true, for others she can be extravagant} Smokes: no Drinks: not normally {no change, but she will drink} Other drugs: no What does he/she do too much of? Read {Take pictures} What does he/she do too little of? Socialize just for fun {This is probably more true now since giving up the paper} Extremely skilled at: Keeping a team alive when faced with challenges when exploring {Photography, writing could be added} Extremely unskilled at: a lot of things but she does hate cooking {LIES...I retconned this. She loves to cook. I don’t know...but I am sure there is something. It would probably be something she doesn’t do and has no desire to do.} Nervous tics: not sure someone may need to point that out to her {She plays with the bracelet on her wrist when she’s nervous. } Usual body posture: relaxed and happy Mannerisms: polite {extremely so} Peculiarities: … {hmm, I am sure there are some that have manifested over the five years I’ve been RPing her. Perhaps how she will always address a human as their full name unless she has been asked not to and will still use Ms. Mrs. Miss. Mr. with that name unless she feels close to you.}

Traits

Optimist or pessimist: Optimist Introvert or extrovert: Introvert until she gets to know you then she might not be quiet {I would say shes more mixed now.} Daredevil or cautious?: A little of both Logical or emotional: Emotional {probably more mixed now though she can be emotional she just normally doesn’t let it show unless she is very comfortable with you} Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat: somewhere in between, depends on how wrapped up she is in her research but she does have a habit of cleaning up if there is a mess { I would say she is very neat. Sky drives her crazy.} Prefers working or relaxing: working {definitely would say this is still true} Confident or unsure of himself/herself: unsure internally, others probably see her as confident {a little of this still lingers but unless you are close to her you wont see it} Animal lover: indeed

Self-Perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: an introvert who is more bookish than social {This is still kinda true.} One word the character would use to describe self: shy {Quiet} One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: A passionate learner and studier of peoples, loves animals, enjoys outdoors, and exploring is exciting. {A memory keeper, lover of animals and the outdoors, her passion for photography as a way to preserve memories is high.} What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? her passion for learning {her compassion for others} What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? her shyness ((its all in her head too, she really can be quite un-shy when meeting new races or investigating something though in social entertainment type situations she is at a loss)) {so retconned, she would say her possessiveness when it comes to the people she cares about.} What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? She is unaware of her appearance most of the time {She likes her hair.} What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? She hates her feet...not really {I’ll keep this if only cause I dont know} How does the character think others perceive him/her: She sometimes thinks too much about this and sometimes it doesn't bother her at all {She is very conscious of being a Kaldorei business woman in a human society. She strives to show that her people are trustworthy and kind.} What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: her shyness {Since I retconned the shyness...I don’t know...Risri believes she can be a better person but its something that you work on each day.}

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: opportunity to learn {She is still curious about others and likes people watching. She thinks most people are good at heart.} Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others: hmm, I think this will depend upon the relationship and situation {Oh most definitely, this was honed during her time as a reporter where she hid a lot of her thoughts about things.} Person character most hates: no one (yet) {Elyza Morrowbranch} Best friend(s): her mother / Jazi {Sky Stoneseat} Love interest(s): none (yet) {Dragaur} Person character goes to for advice: her mother / Dean Crowelley { Dragaur, Sky, Selise} Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Ritti {Dragaur, Sky } Person character feels shy or awkward around: cute boys...oh ok anyone in an entertainment social situation, when she is meeting others for what she calls "research" she emulates her mother's ambassador ways as much as possible {So such a noob. She really doesn’t except older Kaldorei...she worries what they know of her past.} Person character openly admires: her mother and Rislana Silverwind {Who is Rislana Silverwind omg I totally forgot this was a thing. Will have to think of someone else as Rislana is a Draenei now. As for who she admires? Her mother, Selise, Sky, Eilithe, Feyawen, Anegorn, and a few others.} Person character secretly admires: Dean Crowelley {I don’t think there is anyone she secretly admires, if she likes you, you know.} Most important person in character’s life before story starts: her mother After story starts: Ritti, Jazi, and the university faculty {Dragaur, Sky, Selise}

If you made it here thanks for looking at the changes of Risri over the course of the last five years. Its been a long, strange, crazy trip but I wouldn’t change much about it. If you want to do this, I encourage you to! And tag me cause I wanna read!

#risri

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salamanderskin · 5 years

Text

And one time he did

The final part of Five times Caleb didn’t let the Mighty Nein take care of him when he was sick… (part 5) This got away with me somewhat, so here’s 10k of feverish Caleb and concerned Caduceus.

Whole thing is posted here for easier navigation if you like.

Of all the times to get sick, for once his timing is not too bad. The Mighty Nein are between jobs and have a few days to spend in the Xorhaus. Caleb Widogast had been planning to spend them in the library catching up on his studies.

It seems that the moment he opens the book and summons Frumpkin onto his lap as a reading companion, the scraping soreness that has been in the back of his throat for days becomes a lancing pain every time he swallows, forcing him to cough and clear it nearly constantly. His nose is quickly too stuffed for him to breathe through. He swears to himself then feels a rush of gratitude that this did not happen while they were on the road. He isn’t sure he could accurately throw a fireball in this state, let alone anything more complex.

Despite the fire he can’t seem to get warm. A blanket over his lap helps a little and his cat helps a lot but shivers still trickle down his limbs with increasing frequency. He is going to have to get a hot drink or something for his throat, or he’ll never be able to concentrate on this transcription.

He intends it to be a very short interruption, to get back to his reading chair and the warmth of the fire as soon as possible. Upon standing, he realises he is dizzier than he had thought. Descending the stairs to the kitchen requires keeping his hand firmly on the wooden banister.

The kitchen is mercifully quiet and empty apart from a familiar tall figure with a shock of bright pink hair, occupied with peeling and coring apples. The room is as still as a painting. Low light from the enchanted baubles overhead blesses the fruit with a sheen like precious stones.

Caleb feels a swell of emotion at the scene. It’s the little things; Beau and Fjord’s boots kicked off by the door, a novel open face-down on the table, a half finished glass of tea. The house is warm and lived-in and safe. It is home. He’d never thought he’d live somewhere like this again. Some feeling rises in his throat and he swallows against it.

That slight sound is enough to prompt Caduceus to turn. The same light illuminates him from behind, an improbable furry angel.

“Mr Caleb?”

It seems Caduceus doesn’t need to touch Caleb to gauge the man’s fever. The moment he walks into the kitchen, the firbolg looks up and eyes him with considerable concern.

“Oh my, that’s not good at all.” He says, by way of greeting.

“Hm?” Caleb manages. “Oh, I just came to get a glass of water.” As if on cue, he starts coughing again. Even to him it sounds harsh and unpleasant.

“No, no, come here.” Caduceus approaches and leans down to look Caleb over carefully.

“You’re really very warm. I think you have a temperature.” He says gently. “You should be resting.”

“Perhaps a little, but I have a lot to do today, I am perfectly ok to keep working on my spells.”

That is all very well but he finds the world swimming at the edges; the firbolg blurs to a rose-edged smudge until Caleb can scrub a hand over his eyes. He manages to find the edge of the table with an outstretched hand and lever himself onto a chair. It feels good to sit down. The short walk downstairs has made his legs and back ache. He looks up guiltily to see Caduceus standing over him, eyebrows raised.

“Caleb,” those pink sapphire eyes are turned on him with their full force of kind persuasion. “I know what’s normal for humans and I know you can’t be comfortable with your temperature so high. Let me give you a spell and I’ll make you some tea.”

Actually that does sound like a good idea. He nods in surrender. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

Caduceus rests one of his hands on Caleb’s shoulder and casts healing word. Caleb knows that spell doesn’t require contact, but finds himself grateful for it nonetheless.

“Spells are not actually too good for common illnesses.” The firbolg says apologetically. Caleb knows that too. “Give it a second to kick in.”

So he sits and waits while his friend boils the kettle and selects pinches of ingredients from the wall of dark jars. He endeavours to wait without making a fuss, but the spell seems to have made the congestion in his nose shift in a way that sets him sneezing. With his handkerchief firmly over his nose and mouth he manages to smother the sound to a strangled “–ngkt!” The price of the quiet is a bolt of pain through his throat.

“Ah –ngkt!” And again.

“Bless you.” Not too quiet to escape Caduceus’ notice, then.

He nods his thanks and doubles immediately with another sneeze.

“CHssh-ue!” Neither quiet nor polite, but it doesn’t hurt quite as much.

“Bless you!” Caduceus calls over his shoulder. “So, some upper respiratory symptoms with the fever, yes? Let me see what I can find.” He adds a sliver of gnarly-looking root to the teapot and swirls it thoughtfully.

“Now, will you come and drink it with me? I could use some company.”

Caleb swallows. He should be reading, he should be working on that new spell, he shouldn’t be wasting everyone’s time, he should- Who is he kidding? His vision is too blurry to read and he is shivering harder now.

“Ja. Yes. That would be nice.”

He allows himself to be led to Caduceus’ rooftop dwelling.

It is warmer here, magically heated in the same way as his native Cemetery. The air has a pleasant, earthy smell and the captured sunlight from emanating from enchanted globes is easier on his eyes than the bright lamps in his library.Caduceus’ huge oak tree stands proud, it’s roots curving into the base of the tower like possessive fingers, creating inviting nooks and crannies perfect for resting. The firbolg leads him to one where there are cushions and a low table to place the tea set. The angle of the trunk invites him to slump against it.

He sneezes again, finishes with a groan. “Ghh. When is this going to stop?”

“When you’ve had enough rest to let your body heal.” Caduceus says sagely.

It isn’t what Caleb wants to hear. The wizard realises he is still hoping his companion might have some magic up his sleeve to just get this over with, so he can get back to his usual routine. For him to just take all the pain away. It’s a childish urge, but a powerful one.

He settles for sipping the tea. It’s good; spicy and hot enough that he can feel it going down and radiating warmth into his tight chest. A hint of honey coats his throat, taking the tickle away for now, and he thinks he might be able to breathe through his nose again soon.

Caduceus is smiling at him, head tilted in interest as he holds his own cup.

“S’good.” Caleb tells him, slurry with tiredness.

“I’m glad.” Caduceus says. ”Are you still feeling chilly?”

“Ja.” Caleb murmurs. “Can’t seem to get warm.”

“That I can do something about.” Caduceus smiles. He disappears for a moment into his shack, and returns with an armful of thick blankets. He settles them over Caleb’s lap, where they provide a comforting weight. “Is that better, darling?”

Caleb nods.

“Now, just sit quietly there and drink that. I’m going to do some work around the garden, but you call if you need me, okay?”

Caleb nods. He manages to sit long enough to finish the tea, then lets himself slump until he is laying on the cushions and looking up at the shifting patterns of light through the canopy.

He must have dozed off, because he wakes feeling truly horrible. He hears a familiar, deep voice asking him a question. He cracks his eyes open and the light seems to sear through his skull.

He goes to answer, sneezes thickly against the blankets.

“Wildmother bless you, Caleb.” Caduceus murmurs fondly and reaches to rub the man’s back. His fingers pause and then migrate up to the back of his Caleb’s neck and a frown deepens on his face. “Whoah, hey, your fever’s way up. I think you need to be in bed, hmm?”

“Far.” Caleb despises the whine in his own voice, but his limbs feel like lead and the stairs back to his room are steep.

“My room is right here.”

Caleb’s pupils go big when he realises what his friend is implying.

“I couldn’t possibly-” he tries to say, but his fever-addled tongue can only manage a mush of Zemnian and common that doesn’t make any sense at all.

The Firbolg nods sagely, as though he has made an excellent point, and adds “Yes, I think I’d better pick you up. Just for a moment.”

“Wait- please- oop-”

Caleb’s limbs are bundled from under him. Caduceus cradles him close to his chest with one arm under his knees and the other to keep his head from lolling too painfully. Caleb’s vision lurches at the sudden movement and so does his stomach, and he wonders if he might throw up, or pass out, or both. Maybe Caduceus hears the dragging gasp that provokes, because he stands still and holds him tighter, presses his head into his chest and strokes through his hair for comfort.

“There, easy now. I’ve got you. I think…” he pauses to open the door to his little hut with one hip, “that if you’re feeling badly enough to let yourself be carried, doesn’t that mean you deserve to be carried? Just a little?”

Caleb doesn’t reply, just tries to concentrate on the flood of sensation that is being lifted, being held. He is freezing, he is shivering so hard in Caduceus’ arms that he can hear his own teeth chatter. In response the firbolg holds him a little tighter.

A gentle impact as Caduceus sits down on the bed, and Caleb is shifted from his friend’s grasp onto a firm, low mattress. Compared to the bodyheat of a moment ago, the sheets are cold and unwelcoming, sparking soreness on his over-sensitive skin. He grits his teeth so as not to seem ungrateful but a convulsive chill chases along his limbs all the same.

“Oh, you’re really shivering.” He hears Caduceus say. “Come here, sweetheart.”

He is gathered up again and the blessed warmth is back. He curls into it like Frumpkin finding a spot of sunlight in winter. Caduceus manages to settle himself to sitting, with his human friend curled against his chest and supported with one long arm around his back.

Caleb wants to rest there in Caduceus’ arms, he doesn’t want to move ever again, but his stuffy nose is still so ticklish and the change in position has only made it worse. He needs to turn his head away, needs to do something before he sneezes all over his friend. He squirms weakly, trying to find a handkerchief from his pocket, and whines under his breath when his fingers react with fumbling slowness.

“What is it?” Caduceus’ voice is soft and concerned.

“Wait, I have to-” He gestures helplessly to his running nose then bucks into a sneeze against Caduceus’ chest. It’s wet and painful and deeply embarrassing. He feels blood race up his neck in a chaotic blush and he keeps his eyes closed as if they can pretend that didn’t just happen.

“Oh! Bless you!”

“Sorry- excuse me- CHssh-ue! CHssh-ue! ...m’sorry,” he manages. He doesn’t know if it’s for the mess or for falling ill in the first place.

“Trust me,” Caduceus actually laughs, “I’ve seen worse than a few sneezes. Bless you-” he adds preemptively as Caleb winds up for another. “There, are you done?”

Caleb sniffles and shrugs. “Ja. Gott. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey. It’s okay. It happens. I’d rather have that than blood. Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

“S’cold…” Caleb actually pouts a little.

“It won’t be, look-”

Caleb feels a whisper of magic, recognises distantly that Caduceus has used some spell to warm the bedsheets for him. He could have done that himself, should have thought to try it, if he had any spells left in him. So stupid…

It’s much better. This time he allows himself to be bundled over, lets Caduceus pull the blankets up over his shoulders and tuck them in around him. When was the last time someone tucked him in…? It doesn’t bear thinking about, so he doesn’t. He is so, so ready to sleep but Caduceus is nudging him, trying to push something into his hand.

“Hmmf?”

“One more minute, then you can sleep. Blow your nose first, sweetheart, or you’ll regret it later.”

“Nein.” That would involve raising his head and some modicum of effort. Ugh.

“Trust me.” And he does trust Caduceus, so he does so. Then he falls into thick sleep as though a rug has been pulled out from underneath him.

…………………………………………..

Caleb doesn’t sleep for long -One hour thirteen minutes says the part of his brain that never stops counting- and it feels like forever or no time at all. The dreams that came were hot and black and chaotic. He is glad to wake and be out of them.

“Hmmm, let’s have a look at you,” a rumbling murmur from a familiar bass voice. He feels the weight of Caduceus settling next to him on the bed. The Firbolg presses the back of his hand to Caleb’s forehead and nods, his expression sympathetic but not worried. There is a little tickle of magic, possibly some sort of diagnostic spell that Caleb never bothered to learn, and his friend nods.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be fine. Looks like you just have a bad cold.” He sighs fondly and amends this to, “a really bad cold, poor thing. Can you sit up and drink some tea for me?”

Caleb obeys passively, though levering himself up to sitting is an effort that tires him out. It’s hard to drink hot tea when he feels so hot himself. He does so partially because he’s seen the healing powers of Caduceus’ tea first hand and partially because his friend would be incredibly hurt if he turned it down. So he sips, coughs a little, snuffles helplessly through a blocked nose.

He has to put the mug down in a hurry to sneeze hard into the crook of his elbow.

“Bless you, Caleb. Hmm, you managed to get yourself really sick sweetheart. You need to eat more, and sleep more, too.” Caduceus says, reaching to rub his shoulders afterward. “How are you feeling now? Anything I can do?”

“I’m okay.” Caleb manages shakily. “Just hot. And achy.”

“Yeah. I know you’re really warm but I’m not going to cool you too much, you need the fever to burn the virus off, okay? It’ll break soon and you’ll feel so much better.”

Ja. Caleb knows this intellectually, but hearing ir in that deep, soft voice is very reassuring when he feels like his skin is on fire. With a little prompting, he finishes the tea and lies down again.

“That’s it. Try to get back to sleep. That’s what you need right now.” Caduceus encourages.

This time it takes a while. He hears Caduceus leave the shack and can track the little sounds of his working in the garden outside. Caleb feels very close to sleep but instead he lies and lies there with his eyes closed, his thoughts racing unpleasantly. He summons Frumpkin and the cat tries to take his customary position on Caleb’s chest but the weight makes his clogged lungs work too hard. Frumpkin on his lap or his legs is too heavy and hot. Frumpkin not touching him is unbearably lonely. Frumpkin’s purring makes his head ache but the silence is no better. Caleb tosses and turns miserably, bleeding heat into the atmosphere for an hour and a half before sleep finally claims him.

……..

It is hard to judge the time without a sunset, but when Caduceus’ body feels like he has been working for a few hours and his chores are done, he makes his way to the shack to check up on his guest. The fever heat and stuffy air of sickness are tangible as soon as he opens the door. The wizard is sprawled in sleep on the low mattress with his limbs splayed and the blankets kicked off. His cat is as near as he can be without touching. Evidently the chills have passed and his temperature is rising again. It should be due to break soon, if Caduceus is any judge.

The human man is flushed under his freckles. One arm is pillowed under his head and the hand is turned upward but clenched and tense even in sleep. His wrists look impossibly delicate, the tendons in his arms standing out like cords, while the multitude of scars stand out in vivid white. Caduceus is bony himself but he has a layer of fur and lean rangy muscle with it. Caleb just looks like he could use a good meal.

He says, “Hey there Mister Caleb,” to judge how deeply the man is asleep. No answer. Must be pretty deep. That’s good. Still, he mustn't get too cold, no matter how he feels, or his body will just crank his temperature higher, so Caduceus finds the thinnest sheet he has and drapes it over the man.

Caleb does stir at this, trying weakly to push it off.

“Okay, okay, but it’s there if you need it, alright?” He murmurs.

Caleb maybe nods, maybe it’s a twitch as he falls back into whatever dream has his eyes flickering behind their lids.

He’s not in any danger and he is as comfortable as Caduceus can make him, so that will have to do for now.

He leaves the sleeping wizard and pads softly down to the shared space to greet the rest of the Nein.

They are gathered in the kitchen, some eating and others just keeping company. It is so, so nice to come down to them, it’s like having a family.

Jester raises her head and gives him a great big smile. “Caduceuuuuus! Where have you been all day? I found the soup you left though, it was really good!”

“I’m glad.” He tells her, then explains, “Caleb’s not feeling too well, so I’ve been looking after him a little.”

“Oh.” Jester’s eyes go big with worry. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Fjord echoes. The others turn their heads. Nott tenses like she’s ready to spring up the stairs to her boy’s side.

“Oh, he’ll be fine.” Caduceus reassures them. “Just a nasty cold, but he has a fever with it that’s making him pretty uncomfortable. He’s in my bed sleeping it off.”

That news causes an amused clamour when Beau blurts, “and he told you?” at the same time as Jester’s- “he let you-?” and Nott’s outraged, “he didn’t tell me?!”

“Seriously Caduceus,” Jester adds “did you, like, drug him or something? I really need to go see if he’s okay right now.”

“No, no.” It is very unusual for Caduceus to be firm but he is now. He actually raises his voice just a touch and holds up a hand to stop the enthusiastic teifling in her tracks. “What he needs is rest and for you lot not to bother him. If he gets too much attention he’s just gonna feel guilty and try to get up.”

“That’s true, actually.” She sits down in defeat.

Even Nott shrugs in agreement. “If you’re sure it’s just a cold? And you’ll let us know if he needs anything from us?”

Caduceus puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Hey. You know I will.”

So that’s that.

Caduceus takes the time to eat some of the soup he made earlier and also heats a bowlful to bring up for his patient. He also brings some more tea and a glass of the fruit juice he knows Caleb is fond of. He has to set down the tray to quietly open the door. Even then it rattles loudly, but that doesn’t matter because the wizard is already awake.

……………………………..

His dreams are always awful, but these are worse. He knows he’s dreaming, because nothing makes any sense, but the usual combination of smoke and flames and guilt is heightened by the physical feeling of burning up. He wakes enough to make out the walls of the room wavering as though in a heat haze and falls straight back into a dream where the space gets smaller and smaller. Something is wrapped around him, binding him tight, holding his arms still so that Ikathon can cut them open-

Caleb wakes from falling, gasps as though smacked into the mattress from a great height.

He sits instinctively to make it easier to breathe as he coughs and coughs and coughs. His chest hurts ferociously and he is absolutely soaking in sweat.

As his vision clears, he realises the blankets had wrapped around one of his arms and his struggling had pulled it taught. He unwinds it and feels where the cloth has pressed ridges into his flesh. Every inch of his skin feels itchy and dirty and wrong.

The door clicks open quietly but he still jumps like he’s been slapped.

“Oh, hey sweetheart, you’re awake.” Caduceus' voice is steady and gentle.

Caleb swallows guiltily as he remembers where he is. He has made such a mess of Caduceus’ bed, he is disgusting and he’s surely overstayed his welcome. The Firbolg must have come to ask him to leave-

“Hey, hey, leave that alone, hmm? There’s no need for that.” Caduceus says suddenly.

For what?

Caleb follows his friend’s gaze and realises his wrists are crossed so that he can scratch compulsively at both forearms at once. He must have been doing it for a while; he can feel the soreness now and see his scars standing out like spilled candle wax against reddened skin. He lowers his hands.

“That’s it.” Caduceus encourages with a smile.

“...dreaming.” He manages. His voice is a wreck.

Caduceus nods. “Just a dream though, you’re right here in the Xorhaus with me now.”

Caleb doesn’t need telling that. He is quite capable of orienting himself after a nightmare. He has been doing it nearly every night for years, in fact. But it’s nice to hear someone else say it. It’s nice, too, when the firbolg comes to sit beside him on the bed and takes his chin in one hand, tilting his head slightly to look him over. Caduceus leans his cheek onto Caleb’s forehead to compare and nods, satisfied.

“Looks like your fever broke. That’s good. How are you feeling?”

Caleb shrugs. It’s true, he doesn’t feel hot any more, he just feels wrung out. He feels like he has been run over by a cart and left in the rain.

“Pretty rough, I bet.” Caduceus answers for him. “Poor thing, you look exhausted still.” His big hands smooth over Caleb’s back, lift his hair from his neck and begin to rub the ache from his muscles. “Is that okay?

Caleb nods. It’s more than okay. He sniffles thickly and tries to sit still but he really needs to blow his nose. Caduceus notices at once, passes him a handkerchief and moves away to collect the things he’d brought up with him. Blowing makes Caleb need to sneeze and he doesn’t want to because he knows it’ll scrape his throat raw. He sniffles again instead and scrubs underneath his nose with the heel of his hand. He feels beyond pathetic.

Caduceus returns with a glass of juice and offers it. “It would be good if you could drink something.” He prompts, “You’ve lost a lot of fluid in a short time.”

“Feel like I am a fluid.” Caleb manages a weak smile. “Sorry about your bed.”

“Never mind that. Sheets can be washed.” Caduceus says easily. “But what about you? You could go down to the spa and have a bath? I could help you, if you’re not up to walking just yet.”

Caleb considers this as he drains the glass. It would be good to be clean but there is a distinct swim at the edges of his vision when he turns his head too fast. His legs feel far too heavy for walking anywhere just now.

“Maybe later...” He says.

“That’s fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about that right now.”

So he doesn’t. That's about all the conversation Caleb has in him, so he lies back down again. He feels Caduceus take the pillow from him briefly and manhandle him to one side to replace the sheet underneath him with a dry one. He accepts a clean shirt too and manages to wrangle it over his own head. The effort has him ready to fall asleep again and he doesn’t want to, isn’t ready for the dreams to start all over again. Frumpkin senses this. The cat paces up and down at the foot of the bed, giving voice to a low, miserable mew.

Caduceus reaches to pet Frumpkin and then looks up at Caleb, questioning. Caleb was okay until then, honestly. He was just fine. But something about his friend’s honest, compassionate gaze, an expression of care and concern that is for him, whether he deserves it or not…. A lump forms in his throat and he feels tears rise like a tide. He swallows, shakes his head, presses his eyes firmly closed so they don’t spill out. Ridiculous.

“Do you want me to come sit with you for a bit?” Caduceus says softly.

Caleb nods. He doesn’t open his eyes again but he feels the weight of a lanky firbolg settle beside him, then he feels a warm, steady hand smoothing his hair from his brow and cool, dry lips pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

Caduceus lies down next to him, a little way away at first. Caleb isn’t feeling good with words right now, but he rolls over and sort of snuggles backwards into Caduceus’ orbit until his friend takes the hint and closes the gap. One arm drapes over him and comes to rest lightly on his arm.

“Is that okay? Not too much?” A bass whisper behind his ear.

“It’s okay. Thank you.” Caleb affirms. “Good. That’s nice. I’d like to try another spell, then do you think you could go back to sleep for a little?”

Caleb nods assent and feels the cool whisper of Caduceus' magic course through him. It doesn’t do much for his stuffy head but it takes the edge of the aches and relaxes his nerves somewhat. Perhaps that’s the placebo effect of knowing someone is making an effort on his behalf. Whichever it is, Frumpkin seems to approve. The cat settles in littlest-spoon position in front of him, purring like an engine. That is all Celeb needs to send him back to sleep.

……….

Caleb wakes groggily. His impeccable sense of time tells him that it is morning; he has slept the whole night in Caduceus’ bed. He does feel better for it; his sinuses are hot and achy, his throat is raw and his lungs tight, but he no longer feels feverish. He sits up on one elbow and rubs tentatively under his nose, trying to dull the ticklish feeling. It doesn’t work and he smothers his face against his forearm to sneeze once, twice, three times in miserable succession.

“Bless you.” A familiar voice from the other side of the room, scratchy and worried. Not Caduceus- just Nott. The goblin woman is sitting criss-cross applesauce at the end of the mattress, apparently waiting for him to wake. At the sudden motion she looks up, big yellow eyes meeting his for a second before he sneezes again.

“Thadk you,” Caleb says thickly. “Hallo Nott.”

While he recovers, she crawls up to his side of the bed and inspects him closely. “‘Deucey said you were better, but you look like shit.” She says mournfully. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He says honestly. It has only been 24 hours but he is still not entirely used to her leaving his side. The fact she let him out of her sight and into Caduceus’ care says a great deal about how safe they both feel in this group. He adds, “trust me, I am feeling a lot better than yesterday. Caduceus gave me some tea and a spell for the fever. Now I just feel like I have a cold.”

“Okay then. Caduceus had to go out, but he says you should have some more tea when you wake up. I could bring it for you...?” It’s a question. She is half expecting him to refuse or at least make it himself.

To her surprise, Caleb nods gratefully. “Yes please, that would be nice. Thank you, Nott. Do you think you could bring my book as well? Then we could sit together.”

Of course she can.

By the time Caleb actually makes it down from the tower it is midday. Caduceus returns and checks him over before allowing him out of bed, which Caleb tolerates with as much grace as he can. His head feels like it’s plugged with cotton and the cough has gotten more persistent, but he feels better in himself. With a few spare handkerchiefs tucked into his pocket and Frumpkin as a warm weight around his shoulders, he feels ready to return to his usual routine.

He runs into the Jester in the dining room. Her exotic sapphire skin looks out of place among the homely pots and pans. She wears an apron and an expression of contentment as checks on something sweet-smelling in the oven. She straightens as he walks in.

“Hey, Cay-leb!” Her accent gives his name that sing-song quality that means he can never be sure if she’s teasing him. She dusts her hands on her apron and crosses to him.

“Should you even be up? Caduceus said you had a pretty high fever and you shouldn’t get a fever with a cold, you know, unless you’re really run down. Let me feel-” She reaches out her hands for him.

“Jester-” he holds up a hand in warning and manages to turn his head and smother three sneezes into the crook of his arm. It makes his head spin and when his vision clears Jester is laughing at him, but fondly.

“Bless you, Cayleb!”

He laughs too, and doesn’t duck this time when she catches his face in both hands and frowns at him. He feels a blush race up his neck when she smoothes a thumb over his cheekbone.

“Well, I don’t think you have a fever now. Honestly it’s kind of hard to tell because I run hot, but you look okay. For you.”

“Danke, Jester.”

“You should probably have a bath, though. You’re pretty stinky right now.”

Okay, he is fairly sure she is teasing him. A bath sounds really good though. His back aches from laying for so long and the steam might loosen the congestion that makes him sound like he’s speaking through concrete.

“Hey, you go put your things down and I’ll run it for you. Go on.”

“I can- he begins but Jester gives him a stern look and he shrugs, relenting, “Ja. Okay. Thank you. That would be nice.”

The bath is indeed excellent. Something in the bubbles Jester has put in it makes him sneeze ticklishly, startling Frumpkin every time, but then he would probably be sneezing anyay. He soaks for nearly an hour, feeling the warmth seep into his bones.

As he towelling his hair dry afterwards there is a knock on the door.

It’s Beauregard. “You naked?”

“Nein, I am dressed now.” He affirms. “Come in.”

She slouches against the doorframe, eyeing him through the steam.

“Hey, so I, uh, heard you weren’t feeling well. You look okay now though, so that’s good I guess.” She spreads her hands, awkward as ever, but Caleb can see past her gruffness to genuine good-will. “But, uh, just kind of wanted to say if you ever need anything from me, all you gotta to do is ask, you know?”

Even yesterday he might have brushed her off. Today her voice is still a little loud and makes his head hurt, but it also touches him.

“What Beau said.” That’s Fjord’s voice. He comes to stand behind her and nods at Caleb. “Even when we’re not fighting anything, you still gotta keep yourself healed up, alright.”

“Ja. Okay. Point taken. Thank you.”

They hover for a moment until Fjord suggests, “Why don’t you come upstairs. I don’t know what Caduceus cooked but it smells real good.”

The dining room is bright with magical lamps. Caduceus is setting out bowls for everyone, Nott and Yeza are already seated and chatting fondly. Yasha is stoking the fire. He knows it’s not for her benefit, with her barbarian blood, but for his, and feels the chill at his limbs lift as soon as he reaches the threshold. Fjord, Jester and Beau take their places at the table at once with a bustle of cutlery and chinking of glasses that makes his sensitive head swim.

It’s very loud in there, very busy, and he is not ready for the weight of all their eyes on him. He honestly doesn’t feel hungry. Whatever good smells Fjord was enjoying, Caleb can’t detect them through his stuffy nose and he knows every swallow will hurt his throat.

He feels sniffly and gross and vulnerable and unfit for company. His instinct is to apologise and retreat to his room to suffer alone. It would be so easy.They would all understand if he said he felt too sick to sit with them.

He is about to make his apologies when Caduceus approaches and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. The firbolg gives him a sympathetic look that makes his lovely, almond shaped eyes turn up at the corners. His hair is bound up out the way of the food, showing the fine rose-coloured down on the shaved part of his skull. He looks soft and welcoming.

“Hey, it’s good to see you up. Do you think you can come and sit with us? I made stew for everyone, but mostly for you. Nice and easy to swallow.”

“Sure.” Caleb finds himself saying. “I’ll give it a go.”

“That’s nice,” Caduceus says happily and turns to fetch Caleb a bowl.

It is nice, actually. Caleb manages to eat a little, mostly to make Nott and Jester stop giving him looks, but there is no pressure when he pushes the bowl away. The hot meal makes his nose run and sets him coughing enough to interrupt the conversation, but Beauregard just leans over to thump him on the back and keeps right on talking. Caduceus passes him a clean handkerchief under the table without drawing attention and noone complains when he turns away to use it.

After the meal he is persuaded to drink a glass of wine and join the rest of the Mighty Nein in the shared space Jester has coined the ‘happy room’. He feels a little weak and shivery, and is about to cross the room to grab a blanket when Yasha tosses one over to him.

“Here, you should have this one,” she says, indicating the delicate embroidered wildflowers over thick wool. “It’s my favourite.”

“It’s beautiful.” He agrees.

The wine has gone straight to his head. He can feel the relaxation seeping through him.

Soon he is yawning and leaning back against Caduceus on the sofa, staring into fire as the chatter of his friends flickers out of focus.

His nose is still bothering him. He sniffles softly, trying not to draw attention, then gasps when the itchy feeling flares suddenly and throws him forward in a sneeze.

““Ah-Tsssh! Ah-tssh-ue! ...ugh. I’m sorry.”

“Wildmother bless you, sweetheart,” Caduceus says fondly.

It happens again, loud enough to make everyone’s heads turn toward him, which sends a blush creeping up his neck. But there are no disgusted glances, just a few raised eyebrows and absent-minded blessings as they return to what they were saying.

As if they don’t mind. As if he has every right to be here, whatever state he’s in. As if they want him around, whether he is contributing right now or not.

He does feel better for the soup and the spell and the company. More than that, he thinks he can feel something within himself start to heal, too.

It’s taking a long time, but with these people it might just be possible.

END.

#sick caleb widogast #sickfic #fever #sneezefic

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amplesalty · 4 years

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Halloween 2020 - Day 1 - The Stand (1994) - Episode 1 The Plague

Gee, an epic post-apocalyptic story about an out of control pandemic. Never heard that one before.

Much as we like to tie the Halloween season to the Christmas one by opening up with a festive horror movie, why not link back to the TV binging that provided some content to this blog earlier in the year by partaking in this mini series? We’re only covering part one here today as this is like four feature length episodes. In a worst case scenario, the rest will serve as backups that I can plug in if I’m having an off day so to help me from falling behind. But ideally they’ll go up once a week on the same day as a standard movie post. You manage to go back to actually doing 31 entries for the first time in donkeys years and it all goes to your head and you suddenly think you can do 34!

This has actually been on my list for quite a while now, we do love a good (or bad) Stephen King adaptation around here and I have a distinct memory of seeing this on TV when I was a kid. I’m guessing it must have played over a few nights over here at some point or maybe over a bank holiday or something? Not that I really remember much in the way of details, just the cornfields and a creepy face which we’ll get on to.

It’s something that’s stuck with me over all these years, I actually got a copy of the book at one point in what must have been the early to mid 2000’s. Still have it actually, I dug it out for the sake of this entry. Seems it’s a version from 1980 from it’s first run as a paperback in the UK. Seems to have a page or two missing near the start in amongst all the copywright business but otherwise it’s in okay shape.

Even has some writing on the first page that I can only make out in parts, one section seems to read ‘an old man beats a mule’. Or perhaps, more pertinently to this story, a mute...

Cover seems a bit dull and non descript compared to the various other ones that have come out over the years. There’s something interesting to this original version with the two figures fighting, very much a literal take on the good versus evil nature of the story with one figure dressed in light colours and the other dark. The dark figure is wielding a scythe which is obviously closely associated with the Grim Reaper. Seems to have some form of beak sticking out of its hood too and the robes and shoes seem to be almost harlequin or jester type clothes?

I wasn’t really expecting much going into it, especially based on the 1990 mini-series of It. I think because of the nature of It being partly set in the 60’s, as well the contemporary portion which just looks very 80’s, gives it this image in my head of being very dated. Outside of a few actors like Tim Curry, John Ritter and Seth Green, there’s not really any notable stars in it either and even though, Green’s notably arguably came much later on. The Stand though? This thing has some names, even if the bigger ones are just small cameos. Amongst the main cast you’ve got Gary Sinise, Molly Ringwald and Rob Lowe. Obviously Ringwald isn’t a massive star or anything and is only really known for that string of John Hughes movies in the 80’s but around this time was peak Sinise. He’s not long removed from starring in Of Mice and Men (...and men....and men...) and would have roles in Forrest Gump, Apollo 13 and Ransom in the following years. Plus that big stretch in CSI:NY in the 00’s. But then you’ve got people like Ed Harris and Kathy Bates showing up, albeit briefly but these guys have some clout. I mean, Bates had just won the Academy Award a few years prior for her role in Misery so maybe she felt compelled to do more work under the King umbrella. Even the more minor roles seem like a roll call of ‘hey, it’s you!’ with Ken Jenkins (AKA Bob Kelso from Scrubs), Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and the proprietor of Joe Bob’s Drive In, Joe Bob Briggs.

The landscape of TV feels very different today with actors much more willing to work in the field as it’s taken on much more artistic integrity. The greater availability of shows after they’ve aired, be it through DVR, home media or streaming, has enabled people to watch in far greater numbers. There was a time when the big break was deemed to be making it to Hollywood and starring in motion picture epics but it seems more and more that story tellers are moving away from the relatively cramped 2 hour-ish format of the silver screen to having their vision play out over a long form story and the big name actors are following suit. I feel like things would have been very different back in the early 90’s so to have these names attached.

Seems for a long time there were plans to turn this into a movie, it’s even referred to during a ‘making of’ feature on the blu-ray (pretty much the only feature on there I might add) as a ‘motion picture epic’ but this must have been done way into production so either they were confused or trying to mislead viewers for some reason? Apparently in the early 80’s the idea was for the success of Creepshow to finance production of The Stand but took until the early 90’s for everyone to finally settle on the miniseries.

Very much a big budget affair too for a TV Show, $6m per episode. And it’s needed given the scale of the story, taking place in all these different locations, the special effetcs and with so many characters involved with over 125 speaking roles across the series. It’s definitely a jump up from It, even though that had the two different time periods, it only had a budget of $12m across its two parts compared to the $24m here across four parts.

But to finally address the massive elephant in the room, this story centers around an outbreak of a strain of influenza seemingly created in some shadowy government facility. After something goes awry in the lab, a doomed insider pleads with the guy watching the main gate to seal the facility but he instead piss bolts for his nearby house and hurriedly bundles his wife and child into their car as they make their escape. Everyone else is not nearly as fortunate though as the camera pans the facility, lifeless corpses strewn throughout that have seemingly dropped dead in the middle of their everyday activities, there’s even one guy doubled over on a ping pong table. All of this is set to the sounds of BOC’s Don’t Fear the Reaper and culminates with the image of a crow picking at a doll dropped by the child in the rush out of the front gate. The crow features prominently on the front cover of the blu-ray I have, perched atop of a skull. Though, I know they’re going for the whole post-apocalyptic vibe but what about the superflu is causing the road to burn up and crack like that? The bird also shows up a fair bit throughout the episode, I was going to talk about it being a raven and how such birds are linked with ill omen and death but it’s a crow apparently. Who knew? Not me, I’m no ornithologist. It also seems to be very closely linked with a mysterious figure that is alluded to throughout, a ‘dark man’ or monster.

When the original carrier of the disease makes his way into Arnette, Texas, and crashes into the gas station that Sinise’s character Stu Redman is working at, his dying words are of his efforts to escape from a dark man that was chasing him and that no one can out run him. Maybe in that moment you’d think this is just a state of delirium and he’s speaking oddly poetically about trying to outrun Death himself but as the show goes on, more and more people speak of this dark man, almost as if everyone in the grip of this disease comes to share this vision.

And speaking of visions, we can’t forget Mother Abigail and her cornfields. Both Lowe and Sinise’s characters are whisked away in their dreams to the middle of nowhere where a centurion on her porch warns of them of an ominous future. Think Mama Murphy from Fallout 4 only with much less chem addiction. The only thing Mama Abigail needs is her bread. What is it with King and fields anyway? You’ve got In the Tall Grass, plus the corn fields here and in Children of the Corn. There’s probably more I’m forgetting too. It’s either cornfields, writers in distress or killer ‘whatever I can see in front of me whilst I’m pitching this story’ with this guy.

In a way though it’s good that the show takes this supernatural turn because otherwise this would be a little too on the nose to be watching in this current climate. It’s very eerie to see such similar events play out on screen, starting with the widespread rumours and misinformation. It starts out innocently enough with talk of this so called superflu being downplayed, covered up by the government as an anthrax attack or outbreak of swineflu. I remember back to those more innocent times at the start of the year when COVID was naively dismissed as little more than another flavour of the month disease like the swineflu, sars or ebola that would be here today and gone tomorrow. But then you’ve got things like the sense of paranoia suddenly surrounding a simple cough or sneeze, talks of quarantines, social distancing, the implementation of masks (which one reporter describes as not being able to stop a flu germ with a hangover) to the more disturbing scene of lethal force being used against a TV news crew who refuse to surrender footage they’ve shot of army troops disposing of bodies. Granted, we never got anywhere near that level, I think the worst we had was that guy from CNN getting arrested or that Aussie reporter being pushed over.

They even managed to mirror how universal a pandemic like this is, from the common man to the height of celebrity. One of the characters we’re introduced to is a singer who, whilst he seems to be one of the few lucky to have some immunity, still sees his mother succumb to the virus. Just like we saw with the likes of BoJo or Tom Hanks, it really is a great leveller and, as a wise man once said, ‘You might be a King or a little street sweeper but sooner or later you dance with the Reaper!’. I guess we can take solice that we haven’t quite had the societal collapse that this show manages to pull off in less than a week, with Times Square on fire and a guy running around shooting people like he’s in Falling Down. That’s not to say we wont get there, we seem to be hovering more around general civil disobedience right now with the growing frustration of lockdown and PPE spilling out into protests.

It makes for compelling viewing to see how quickly things break down from simply a man having the sniffles to people being rounded up from their homes and ushered into army vehicles. There’s a lot to take in as the show has to establish the events taking place and introducing it’s multitude of characters so there’s not really much room to breathe. Hopefully episode 2 can relax a little now and give the cast some time to grow. There’s still some standout performances though such as Redman’s growing frustration at being cooped up in a test facility, lashing out at the doctors and nurses coming in in their hazmat suits, prodding and poking him. It would have been nice to see more scenes with him and Dr. Dietz. They have one argument where they nearly come to blows before having a big showdown by the end, with the Doc being one of the last staff members left alive, seemingly crazed by their inability to find any answers in Redman’s tests and he threatens to take his frustrations out on Redman by shooting him. He might be immune to the virus but I bet he’s not immune to a bullet. Dietz starts out with this complete lack of empathy, almost to the point of having a rather cheery deposition considering the circumstances, as he finds some fascination in the speed at which the virus causes death. But he becomes more and more short tempered and threatening as the days wear on and it would have been good to see a more gradual descent.

The aforementioned Ed Harris plays General Starkey overseeing the initial bioweapon project and the fallout of it’s outbreak, perhaps overseeing to a fault as it becomes pretty clear from his ever increasing five o’clock shadow, dishevelled clothing and massive bags under his eyes that he’s slept very sparingly since the initial breach in containment. I think for the entire time we see him, his screen never changes from a shot of one of the cooks at the base of the initial outbreak slumped over, face down in the meal he was preparing. It makes a bit of a change to go from the quite verbal exchanges of Redman and Dietz to Starkey’s physical appearance and facial expressions putting across his mood.

#Halloween 2020 #Stephen King #The Stand

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