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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

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i cannot stop thinking about tma hell's kitchen au

(@f0xesand0wls thank you for enabling me)

- elias is the head chef, and peter and gertrude are his sous chefs. there are 20 total chefs in the competition: red team: jon, tim, georgie, daisy, naomi, agnes, gerry, jordan, helen/michael, oliver blue team: martin, sasha, melanie, basira, mike, jude, julia, jared, jane, manuela

- the black jackets are jon, martin, tim, sasha, georgie, and melanie, and the finalists are jon and martin. the winner is probably martin, but it doesn't really matter, because the actual plot of this is a jonmartin rivals-to-friends-to-lovers slowburn

- annabelle is the one who puts all of the film and audio together at the end. jmart watch the show once it's put on television and go 'what the fuck i didn't say any of that' because that's how reality tv is babey

- martin is one of those chefs who does poorly at the beginning but gets better and ends up in the final two. even though he's not on the same team as jon, jon is like 'this guy sucks' and maybe martin messes something up for jon early on and jon decides he does not like martin.

- jon is so nervous that he's going to screw up and get sent home early (he doesn't have formal culinary training and feels deeply underqualified) so he's very stiff and overly professional at the beginning. he relaxes over time as he becomes more confident in his own cooking and as he does well at challenges and dinner services.

- somewhere around chapter/episode 5, martin tells jon that he doesn't have any formal culinary training and that he said he did in order to get into the restaurant job he had prior to coming on the show. he's been cooking for his mother since he was ten though, and jon surprises himself by saying that that's a lot more impressive than studying technique in france or something. that's the catalyst of their transition from rivals into friends

- somewhere around episode 8, jude (who got switched to the red team a few episodes prior) gets eliminated, but on the dinner service before she does, there's an incident in the kitchen and jon's hand gets burnt pretty badly (not so badly that he has to go home, and he fights through the rest of dinner service because of course he does). he insists he doesn't have to go to the hospital for it, and elias reluctantly agrees and has the medic look at it. in the dorms later, martin helps jon unwrap it and put more burn cream on it and change the bandages and... yeah <3

- daisy and jon do not get along at first, and daisy actually tries to sabotage jon early in the season/fic. jon nearly gets eliminated because of it and he is not happy. then, a good few episodes later, the red team wins a challenge and they go on some sort of outdoorsy award and something happens and jon saves daisy from getting seriously injured. they're on better terms after that.

- when jon, tim, sasha, martin, melanie, and georgie get black jackets, elias (like every actual season of hell's kitchen) brings their family members/friends in for them to see. jon gets his grandmother, tim his brother, sasha her mother, georgie her best friend alex, and melanie some of her ghosthunt uk (the restaurant) friends. the only person martin has is his mother, and they tell him that she was too sick to come, but he can't shake the feeling that she just didn't want to. she didn't even agree to make him a video. it's a very awkward affair, and after the challenge (which tim wins) jon stands by martin while they're... idk, peeling 200 pounds of potatoes or something and they talk about it and they talk about a lot of their personal lives. for most of the competition, they're very aware that they're on camera at all times, but jon decides that being there for martin is more important than worrying about that.

- jon wins the next black jacket challenge and, when asked who he wants to invite on the reward, invites martin. they get to go wine tasting in a beautiful vinyard together and then they get some time to sit in the vinyard and just relax. martin probably realized he had a crush on jon around... episode/chapter 8? pretty soon after his admission that he doesn't have formal training. this episode is when jon realizes that he has a crush on martin, and the wine tasting suddenly seems very romantic and he gets very flustered. martin just thinks he's getting nervous since they're getting closer to the end of the competition.

- it's martin and jon in the finals. martin has tim, melanie, basira, and agnes on his bridage and jon has sasha, georgie, daisy, and gerry. in the middle of the entrees, something goes very wrong in martin's kitchen (not because of martin, because agnes burns like... ten racks of lamb or something ridiculous like that) and it looks like martin might not even be able to finish and he's freaking out just a little bit, so jon does something incredibly stupid and tells sasha to take charge of the kitchen for a moment and goes over into the other kitchen and pulls martin aside and takes martin's hands in his and is like 'it's okay, you're okay, everything's going to be okay. you're extremely talented and an amazing chef and an amazing person and i love you and this is not your fault and you're going to go back out there and get things back on track.'

jon goes back to his kitchen, elias yelling at him the whole way, and martin kicks agnes out and gets his kitchen back under control and they have no other issues that night. and martin's brain completely skips over the 'i love you' until the end of service, when the adrenaline wears off and they start to clear down and jon gives him this smile and suddenly martin remembers and he's like 'oh fuck'

but jon doesn't say anything about it so martin assumes he hadn't meant to say it, because of course he didn't, because they're competing for a job and $250,000 and he probably just heard jon wrong or something. jon probably said 'i love your cooking' and martin's just being stupid and letting his crush get away from him. so they both go back and sit in the dorms and wait for elias to call them up to his office. meanwhile, jon also remembers that he accidentally let i love you slip and he's having a bit of a crisis about it because on the one hand he meant it, but on the other hand he should not have said it then and martin hasn't said anything, so maybe he didn't even hear.

still, martin needs to thank jon. so he's eventually like 'thank you for what you did back there. i don't think i would have made it through service without what you said.' then, after a moment, because it is a competition: 'why did you help me? you could have let me drown and you'd have a secure win'

and jon just shrugs and says, 'because you needed help, and i... i care about you. i didn't want to see you fail. you are a good chef, martin, and i... i know you deserve this job just as much as me. you can go work at elias's restaurant and i can go back to mine and... and that'll be okay, if that's what happens'

and martin realizes suddenly that jon lives across the country from him normally and he doesn't know if he'll be able to see jon after this (chefs are busy people, after all, not a lot of time for family and such) and before he can really think about it he's like 'i wouldn't be okay with that' and then when jon just looks at him he clarifies, 'i... i don't want to just go back to living in [washington?], working all day and coming home to an empty apartment, and you'll go back to [new york?] and i... will i even see you again? because it's been so nice, being here, being with you, and i want to see you again, jon. every day.' he hesitates a moment, then decides fuck it, if i'm wrong, at least i'll only be embarrassed for a little while longer and says, 'what you said during service. did you mean it?'

and jon, tentatively, is like, 'that you're a good chef? yes, martin, i meant it, of course i did' and martin's like 'no, the... the other thing you said. right in the middle of it all. i- i don't know if i heard you right, and i just... i need to know if you meant it'

and it would be easy for jon to say no, to pretend like he didn't. but instead, he sits next to martin on the couch and takes martin's hand in his and nods and says, 'i... i've meant it for quite some time, i think' and he smiles at martin, a little bit shy, and martin's overwhelmed with affection and he reaches for jon's face, leans forward, and--

and the phone rings. unfortunately. because elias made a decision

- martin's door opens and jon's doesn't. jon thinks he should feel crushed, and he does feel disappointed, but mostly he's just so, so happy for martin. martin is stunned, and tim and sasha and georgie and melanie and basira and daisy are waiting for him below to congratulate him. martin's stuck in a round of thank yous when he turns and sees jon, who's run down the stairs to join the celebration and is looking at martin with those same eyes he would get when he was determined to win a challenge or finish a dish that needed two more minutes in one minute. and then jon just hugs martin, so tightly martin can barely breathe, and he mumbles into martin's neck, 'i would very much like to kiss you, but i very much do not want our first kiss to be on national television' and martin laughs and hugs jon tightly in return and mumbles back, 'i love you too, jon. just in case it wasn't obvious' and even though jon just lost, he's never been happier

- (they watch the show when it comes out together half a year later, in the little bit of free time they have around running their own respective restaurants, and they spend the whole time picking it apart

jon: okay i did not say that, where did they even get that from??

martin: god do i really look like that from behind...

jon: oh christ. martin, i- i think they thought i wanted to have sex with you. ugh, they've put on weird romantic music. red lighting. i hate this. i clearly did not--no, martin, don't give me that look, you know what i mean.

martin: wow, this makes us look like terrible chefs

and, at the end:

jon: christ, of course they were recording us in the dorms after the last service. this is a cooking competition, not a romance.

martin: eh, it was a bit of a romance.

jon: hush, i'm trying to watch. they're about to announce the winner. i don't have much hope for this chef martin; after all, he did burn that risotto back in episode 2--

martin, trying not to laugh while he glares at jon: oh my god jon let it go)

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #i have so many aus already rolling around in my head begging to be written but 👀#have another incredibly obscure one relevant solely to my own interests lol #my fic #my writing #basically lol this is... a lot

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renjunfromthestars · 4 years

Text

one last time

Pairing: Haechan + Reader

Genre: Angst, smut? suggestive, fluff, established relationship

Song recs: Lose by Niki,Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County, Sofia by Clario

Warnings:

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary:

Sometimes, just loving each other isn’t a reason to continue being together.

Life consists of moments, and some people are only meant to stay in your life for a moment.

___

September (Now)

When you wake up, it’s breaking dawn. Despite the layers you’re tangled in, it’s still cold in the little one bedroom apartment you share with Haechan downtown. There’s an obscene amount of blankets for the sheer size of the bed; the air condition has been blasting too low for weeks, and neither of you have bothered trying to turn it off.

The kitchen sink has clogged up a couple days ago, from the buildup of grease or a stray utensil you don’t know—just that the dishes have piled up, and much like the thin balance that holds you and Haechan together, are on the verge of collapsing.

You question if he still lives with you out of fear of being alone, but you know the answer has always lied in the thin white sheets of the empty two sized bed when you wake up.

Even so, during the rare moments you wake up early enough to see him next to you, there’s an unspoken wall split down the white sheets, and you haven’t really kissed each other in weeks.

As your eyes dart around the room, what should really be considered evidence of your relationship seems old, like artifacts, untouched for centuries. The picture frame that once graced the nightstand, trapped in the crevice between the wall, the 70-millimeter projector Haechan bought you for christmas, back in the box, collecting dust and untouched.

It’s another day, another changing of the seasons, and you’re still looking for someone to blame, but it's hard to point fingers at someone who isn’t there.

It’s hard for Haechan to do wrong when he hasn’t been doing anything. So maybe it’s you that make the moments alone feel so long, as you find yourself waiting for just the click of the door opening, a call, a note, a kiss, anything. And maybe one day, if you try hard enough, you’ll find something out of nothing.

But right now, as you hear shuffling and the click of a door, you know he’s only leaving the apartment again.

September (Before)

It’s bittersweet when the last hints of summer fade into fall, but when you make your way up the stairs and finally drop the boxes on the floor, you don’t mind it as much as you thought you would.

“It’s so spacious.”

“You don’t have to lie, Channie.”

“No I’m serious.”

“First of all, you’re never serious, and second of all, it’s only because it’s empty and we haven’t unpacked.”

He seems so excited and you can’t blame him, you’re excited too. A place to finally call your own, even if it was the size fit for a Keebler elf.

As you work on opening each cardboard box, Haechan digs in, taking your things out of the box, organizing them. When you’re finally done, you plop on the couch, resting. When you look over at Haechan he’s focused, with a little drop of sweat traveling down his face as he puts up the curtains.

Christmas (Before)

“Well, it has character.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

The thing in question, being the little Christmas tree Haechan dragged in despite your insistence that one wasn’t necessary. It’s frail, evidenced by the way the weight of the star bends the tip of the tree, and the firs that branch out from the trunk are discolored. It’s so dry, you think, if you snap the tree in half and start rubbing the sticks together, you could start a fire. You rather not be arrested for arson, so you just sigh. It is kind of endearing, but you’d never admit it.

“And now we wait for Midnight,” he declares, wrapping his arm around you. “so I can kiss you in celebration.”

“I think you’re confusing Christmas with New Years.”

“I figured you’d be difficult,” he shrugs. “You’re always worried about something,” he begins, rummaging in his pocket. “Loosen up it’s Christmas, our second one.” When his hand finally leaves his pocket, there’s a small bunch of mistletoe haphazardly attached to a string. He lifts his arm, and it dangles just above your heads.

“You have to kiss me now.”

“I’d kiss you regardless-”

“Shut up.” With the swift movement of his head, he presses his lips against you.

It’s Christmas, and you don’t have a lot of money. It’s Christmas, but you have Haechan, and that’s all that matters.

…

“Where did you get this, anyways?”

Haechan scratches the back of his head. “I dunno.”

“Don’t even try lying to me, I’ll get it out of you eventually.”

“It’s not lying if I withhold the truth,” he says stubbornly, and you roll your eyes as you adjust the focus of the screen.

“No seriously, this is a really nice projector. I don’t think we could’ve afforded something like this if we only ate rice and beans for a month.”

“I don’t understand why it matters.” he says nonchalantly, chewing on the last of the popcorn

“It matters because rent is due next week, and we’re almost short because of the heating bill.”

“You worry too much.”

“And you worry too little” you interject.

“Not when it’s about you.” he responds, and your face softens.

He opens his arms, and you crawl into them. You’ve been stressed with work lately, he knows.

You’ve always talked about getting a projector, and how cool it would be (“We could have movie nights!”) but knowing you, you wouldn’t ever drop money on one to buy it for yourself.

It’s the last of his graduation money well spent, just to make you happy.

New Years (Before)

You don’t know if it’s the twinkling lights, or the atmosphere (or the champagne) that has you feeling this way, but you’re feeling quite warm and fuzzy.

You trip and nearly kiss the floor on the way to the snack table when Jaemin catches you.

“Woah woah woah there, easy. Looks like someone’s had too much to drink.” he teases, reaching across the table to grab a napkin. Some of the champagne from his flute spilled onto your dress, and Jaemin dabs a napkin apologetically.

Renjun glances to his side and gives Haechan a little tap, pointing to your hunched figure. Haechan sighs, and makes his way to you.

To the average bystander, it's an innocent display of chivalry as Jaemin links his arm around yours and you lean on him, searching for a place to put you so you won’t cause anymore trouble, but Haechan can’t help but feel a little, pissed off? Peeved, jealous even.

“My dress,” you grumble, and Jaemin only laughs. “It’s okay, you still look pretty y/n. You’ve always been.

Yes, you do look pretty tonight, Haechan knows, and when you’re back in his arms, he whispers to you that you’re going home.

...

You’re breathless when Haechan scoops your legs from right under you, disregarding the heel on your left foot you still haven’t taken off.

“Too slow.” he huffs, and you can only wrap your arms around your neck in support when he impatiently shakes your body slightly so that your shoe falls to the floor.

When he finally makes his way to the bedroom, he plops you front first. The bed feels so comfy, but you snap back into focus when you hear some rustling, then the familiar clank of the metal of a belt hit the floor.

When you turn around, he wastes no time kissing you, and you almost forget what you wanted to say.

“We didn’t even-” Haechan begins to slide his hand under your dress, interrupting you. “Even see the ball drop” you manage to gasp out.

“Does it matter?” he hums. Your strapless bra is yanked right out from under you, and any resolve you had to press the topic any further goes with it.

“It is so bad that I want to spend some quality alone time with you on New Years?”

He’s so worked up it’s almost comical, and he makes it a point to fuck you so that you’ll be feeling it for the next week, but you’re not complaining. It’s quality alone time after all.

Spring (Before)

If they say March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb, then your sanity must have left with it. You get a job promotion, and Haechan well, finally finds a job after months of searching. Haechan’s excited, you’re excited, money isn’t as much of an issue anymore, and you couldn’t be happier.

With your newfound responsibilities, you find that it’s hectic at work, so you’re hardly home when he is. When you are, you find yourselves too tired to do anything but stick a frozen dinner in the microwave, and call it a night. But when you can, you try to set aside a day to eat together, to do something.

It’s difficult at first, but it’s okay, because change is arduous, and it’s okay, because you have each other.

You try your best to call during lunch breaks, but even then, the calls get shorter, and spending time together becomes an afterthought. The time you do spend together is awkward, with strained silences in between that make you think, was it always like this before? You would almost prefer arguing- then you would at least be talking to each other.

Maybe the riff between you two goes deeper than that, then just work on the surface. It’s riddled with doubt, uncertainty. Doubt, when he says he has extra hours he needs to do at the company, uncertainty when you don’t know when you’ll see him next. You don’t need to lose your mind every time he doesn’t call, because he certainly doesn’t. He doesn’t, so you won’t. You shouldn’t have to win his love, right? because you have it. You’ve always had it.

You don’t know when it occurred to you that his laugh began to mean something more to you--but right now, you’re not so sure when you started evolving into strangers.

Summer (Before)

Spring bleeds into summer, and work lets down a little. Haechan has the day off. You let him know you’ll be coming home a little early, and you do, right before the sun sets, groceries in hand.

When you slip off your shoes and hang your jacket on the coat rack, you make your way to the kitchen. As you make your way to the kitchen, you notice the pans on the stove, and the single empty set aside in the sink.

When you make your way to the bedroom, you find him on his back, scrolling aimlessly through his phone.

“Does this even matter to you, if we eat together?”

“Not really,” he shrugs.

You drop the subject.

September (Now)

Maybe at a time you felt free here, but right now, everything about the apartment is suffocating, the blankets, the air, the silence. You bring out the duffel bag you haven’t used since you’ve moved in, and begin to fill it with your belongings. You need to be somewhere, anywhere. Anywhere but here.

Dusk is transforming into evening when you finally see him. He’s leaning against the door frame, with the light of the sunset illuminating the thin wisps of hair that frame his face. In baggy sweats, and your favorite white tee of his, with the tiny hole on the sleeve from wearing it so much (because you liked it, he once said), in the rose tinted light, he’s the spitting image of the boy you fell in love with, the boy you’ve always loved, for the past year, months, weeks. But when you take the time to look closer, he looks tired, with his eyes sunken and hollow. At the edge of the room is as close as he gets, but he feels miles away

“Where did you go today?”

“I was out with a friend,” you lie. You’re always there when he comes home, and that hasn’t changed. But how else are you going to explain the traces of makeup that linger on your face, and the fact that you’re dressed? You didn’t think he’d care enough notice, let alone point it out. You look up at him, but his gaze remains on the floor, shoe digging in the peeling carpet.

When you see his jaw tense and lips begin to part, you see a glimpse of the man who used to hold on to you like you were the last person on earth; he’s lost the right a long time ago, to be overprotective, to ask about your day, like it would make any difference now. It’s when his gaze travels from the carpet, to the closet, the empty hangers, the sweater in your hands, the bag, he stops; it’s finally sinking in.

Baggy sweats, in a white t-shirt with his heart on his sleeve. Messy hair, he looks like the man you’ve always known, always loved, last year, last month. Today, and even tomorrow when you’re on that train going far far away. If you get on that train.

Because you’ve been thinking: Is this what love is? They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but all you’ve been feeling these days is empty. Even so, after all this time apart, you still feel the urge to kiss him.

“Where are you going?” he looks at you, the closet, the bag.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t need to lie to me.”

The answer is in your silence, and wordlessly, he walks past you and lays on the bed.

“Come here,” he says, and his body forms a crevice on the bed that hasn’t been there for months.

“I don’t think I should.”

“Please,” his voice breaks, and you feel your plans begin to tear apart at the seams. “Just one last time.”

He knows he can’t stop you from leaving, it’s inevitable, an unspoken end. He can only delay it.

There's a soft crinkle as he wraps his arms around you in your jacket, tightly, almost painfully.

“The truth is, I- I still, I-”

“I know,” you say softly, interrupting him. “Me too.”

…

When you wake up it’s breaking dawn, and you’re tangled in the arms of the only thing you’ve ever known love to be. He looks so peaceful, with the light of dawn shining on his bare face like drops of morning dew catching the sun. He’s still Haechan and you’re still you, but you know things are different now, and somewhere along the way you forgot to tell each other about it.

You hastily get your bag, leaving no room for second thoughts.

As you head out the door, you see a bag of groceries carelessly dropped on the counter, the bag broken. You see oranges, cereal, a carton of eggs all for two. You see your favorite brand of instant coffee, the one Haechan hates, but always buys for you anyway.

It’s bittersweet as the last hints of summer fade into fall, and you mind it. You mind it a lot. You know there will be a time again when everything will fit right in, but right now, everything is falling apart and you can’t look back. Maybe in a different life you both fight all day, but kiss all night. In another universe, things could still be changing too. You could be leaving this little apartment together, on a train maybe to somewhere bigger.

September (Before)

“y/n?”

“Yes Hyuck?” you say absentmindedly, fiddling with his silver necklace as you lay on his chest. You’re both tired from unpacking, and you might be just a little late for work. It doesn’t matter, you can spare the subway fare instead of walking.

“Where do you want to live eventually?”

“I have no idea, but I’m open to anything. I think it would be really cool to live in the city,” you ponder. “but I wouldn’t be able to live there my whole life, you know? What about you?”

“I kinda wanna live in Utah.”

“Utah is really pretty.” you agree. “Airplane tickets are kinda expensive though, trains are cheaper, but it might take a little longer, and I don’t know if I can be in confined space with you for that long.” you tease.

“Don’t lie you love me,” he grumbles. “It just seems so great,” Haechan continues. “It’s rural and the houses are so big and-” he suddenly pauses. “What if we can’t find jobs in the same location?”

“Hyuck why are you so worried about all this? ” You can only laugh at the little frown he makes in response. “We just moved in, and all of this is so far ahead in the future.”

“I want to make your life amazing,” he announces, “I want the best for us so figured I might as well start planning now.”

You’re ready to tease him for his sudden onset of seriousness, for being so out of character. The Haechan you know doesn’t plan; he scarfs down cereal each day in the morning, and throws on the first item he sees-but when you look up at him, his eyes are filled with sincerity—He’s dead serious.

As you sit up you kiss his forehead, cupping his face in your hands. Feeling his cheeks contract as you pull away, he purses his lips.

“Kiss me?”

“Okay, just one last time,” you laugh. “I really need to go now though.”

______________________________________________________________

a/n: I don’t know why but I’ve been writing a lot of sad stuff lately, I hope this one makes sense lmao. Let me know what you think, feedback is always appreciated

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akampana · 3 years

Note

16 cutoria but in a vampire/werewolf au?

ANON LOOK WHAT YOU DID ITS 6716 WORDS LONG/lh

16 “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I have no choice.” Werewolf AU Cú Chulainn x Arturia Pendragon

________

“You’ve stalled for too long, brat.”

The she-wolf dropped into the clearing without a sound, her experienced paws padding across the forest floor as lightly as the beating of butterfly wings. Scáthach was a creature of grace, even as a large canine. Her hunts were nothing short of elegant either, carried out quiet enough such as not to disturb the night. It was no wonder at all that she was once the Alpha of the pack.

The new Alpha was not so. Though the runs he was tasked to lead were mostly just as productive, he was rough and arrogant, hunting larger prey while scorning rabbits and smaller faunus. While the pups enjoyed being handed larger game whenever he came to the den, his chosen prey’s strangled cries always alerted nearby animals to go running. In winter, such conduct put the whole pack in danger of going hungry.

Despite that, it was only Scáthach who ever told him off, for there was no one else quite as strong as the large grey beast that was bestowed the honor of being their leader.

“You know what snow does to the rival packs, Cú,” hummed the wiser wolf as she circled the hubristic pup. She was never in favor of putting him in the lead just yet, but she had served her purpose, teaching him all that she knew. She didn’t doubt he had the prowess. He just lacked the responsibility.

“They have been seen closing in on our territory, now that prey runs scarce. You’ve been lucky, bringing in as much elk as you have thus far. But how will you maintain that while defending the territory, hm? Pull a miracle and find some loose sheep like you did last winter?”

Her pup-turned-leader snorted, shaking his snout as he stalked away. “This another attempt at getting me a mate, old hag?”

The she-wolf bared her teeth at the new alpha, batting his snout with her paw. “A mate shows power and longevity, you know this. Fionn may not have been the best father to you, but he brought you brothers and he brought you safety.”

“I ain’t taking Medb,” Cú snarled back, his fur standing on end at the thought. “So shove it. I’m heading out. Tell Ferdíad I can’t make it to game night.”

Without another word, the alpha wolf bounded off into the trees faster than the human eye could follow. He leapt past hills, his paws crunching snow beneath him, careless of the little prey that scuttled about. They were done with today’s hunt. Even Ferdíad's litter could go to sleep completely satisfied.

The wolf dodged through the thick vegetation mile after mile, until the paths he marked out for the younger wolves were no longer in sight. Although he doubted the den mother would approve of him going so far out into their territory alone, he was the alpha now. His decisions would no longer be questioned.

Finally, he came to a cave: an old abandoned bear den, that lesser beings avoided though its owner no longer lived there. His sharp ruby eyes darted to his surroundings, making sure he wasn’t followed. Then, he entered the den, as he had done several times before, and came out the cave’s other end.

Only Diarmuid knew about his hideout, and he’d like to keep it that way. As long as the beta kept this little secret within the pack territory, Cú could keep her safe.

The large canine made his way past a few evergreen trees ‘til the humble farm came into view. Sure enough, there she was in the middle of the fenced off enclosure, sitting amongst her sheep while the lambs fed on the last of the grass.

Here was Scáthach’s little “miracle”: a shepherd that had seen Cú’s starving figure at the edge of her farm last winter and purposely left her fence gate open. To this day, Cú still did not know why she did it, but her generosity got his entire pack through the harsh season.

In return, he’d secretly kept foxes and wild wolves off her farm, making sure the lesser beings knew better than to encroach on his personal territory.

At least, that’s what he did as a wolf.

Cú returned to his little cave, snarling as his fur receded into his skin. The alpha curled onto the ground, biting his own paw to stifle his groans as the bones within him shrank and contorted into a lesser form. His snout receded into a straight nose, his fangs into passably human sharp teeth. Without his night vision, Cú reached blindly for the small duffel bag tucked into a small hollow and pulled out an artificial coat and a pair of trousers.

What snuck out of the enclosure was no longer a grey apex predator, but a tall, muscled man with flowing dark hair: an ordinary hunter, no more special than the ones that frequented the northern town.

The bell chimed as he walked through the entrance, signalling the blonde shop owner of his arrival. Cú tried not to smile too widely as Arturia Pendragon popped her head through the staff door, but he knew that was a futile effort.

“Hey, shortie.”

“Good evening, Cú,” replied the woman, snorting at his favorite nickname for her as he hung his coat on the rack. “I have your usual ready...though I still cannot understand why you prefer coming here rather than the supermarket. You know Arthur takes our supply every Monday. He's down there with Arash the rest of the week. Isn’t that a little closer to home?”

Right. She still thought he lived in town. It was easier than saying he lived across the woods in a village even more secluded then hers which would be impossible to get to from here without a two hour drive unless you were a wolf that could cross the forest terrain in a fraction of time, so he didn’t correct her.

The Irishman shrugged and sank into the rug before the fireplace. “Mutton’s better fresh. 'Sides, the grocers don't stock your pies. Ya really should sell 'em, Arturia, I'm tellin' ya.”

The woman scoffed, lightly nudging her friend to the side with her foot. As he scooched over, she set down a food tray between them: one with two glasses of whiskey and two slices of pie.

"Flatterer," she accused, handing the bigger slice to Cú anyway. He wolfed it down in seconds.

The first time he showed up at her door went much the same way, just a lot more awkward.

It was the day after his wolf came home with her sheep. He'd already knocked on her door to thank her before realizing how stupid that idea was. What was he meant to say?

Hey, uh, thanks for letting me hunt your sheep to feed my pack. My best friend's wife just popped a litter of hungry babies, hehe gotta feed them young am I right? Oh, by the way, I'm the wolf from yesterday, nice to meet you—Yep. No. not gonna work. This was a terrible idea. Stupid, really. He was stupid. Why did he even come here again?

Then she swung open the door, freezing the man in place with his mouth half open.

"Can I help you?" She asked, but before he could even reply, he was greeted by snow. Everywhere. All at once. Down his spine and into his underwear.

Now, he wasn't as susceptible to the cold as the common human, but she did not know that. Before he could even get a word out, he was sitting in front of the fire to dry while she ran to get him something warm to drink.

A change into Arthur's clothes and some hot coffee later, he was being served pie at the dining table to make up for his unexpected snow shower.

"Again, I sincerely apologize for that. My brother and I haven't had the chance to fix the porch roof. We just moved to this old farm last month,” rambled the short Welsh woman as she handed him a hot towel.

After some hesitation and observation on the stranger’s way of dress, she asked, “Did...did you come here for lamb?"

Little did she know, she'd just handed Cú the perfect excuse. Plus, he now knew exactly how to show his gratitude.

"If I fix up yer roof would ya give me a discount?"

Over the next week, Cú would come to the Pendragon residence to make repairs. It wasn’t just the roof that needed patching up.

It turns out she and her brother were alone in the world, cheated out of their inheritance and everything else they owned by their older sister. All that was left to them was this old farm and cottage, which neither had visited since they were kids. Their half-sibling even threw in three truckloads of animals as a joke, since she had all the riches in the world to spend and a special budget for humiliating the two green-eyed blondes.

Still, the twins were educated. Brilliant, even. And though they were clumsy when it came to most household repairs, their experience tending equine stables for their late father translated rather well to animal husbandry. In a month, they had made enough to pay the bills and get them a secondhand laptop and working Wi-fi. The next month saw Arturia getting her own computer.

Half a year down the line, Cú was sure that the Pendragon siblings would move out, but here they stayed, still maintaining their humble farm though it was no longer their only form of income. Neither of them needed the burden of moving back to London, with its ridiculously high cost of living and impossible rent rates. They’d grown fond of the land they actually owned and its peace.

That suited Cú just fine, because he had grown fond of Arturia.

Cú still visited, even after all the repairs had finished. His nephews were always hungry, and while the mutton did not satisfy the little pups’ bloodlust as much as wild game, it made up for the deficit while the children were in human form. But even Arthur knew his bi-monthly purchases were just an excuse.

He was there for the coffees, for the brief moments his fingers would brush hers. He was there for the whiskey, the cheap bottles they shared before the fireplace while she told him everything she could about the city. He was there to make fun of her posh way of speaking, to pull the ribbon from her hair, to bring her fruits and berries and furs and let her read him books.

He was there for her.

Scáthach’s training only increased in intensity as the months passed, and between his day job and being the new alpha, Cú had little time left for himself. But what he could spare, he spent with his favorite person, even if it was just watching her tend her sheep from a distance while he kept foxes out of her territory.

Cú tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, happy to see she didn’t even flinch, but plagued by the thought of his wolf. He was the pack alpha now, and that meant a shitload of other responsibilities that would keep him from her for as long as he held that title.

“That’s all yer charging me, shortie? Nah, can’t be,” Cú resisted, pushing a few more bills across the table. “That’s way too cheap, even if yer sweet on me.”

Pink-faced, Arturia slid the packed meats back across the counter, reached behind her, and procured a carefully wrapped circular dish which she placed in a bag.

“Take it,” she insisted, hooking the bag onto his fingers. “We’ve been ridiculously lucky to not get any wolves and foxes considering how much higher into the mountains we live compared to the rest of the town. There is more than enough left for Arthur and I.”

Cú peeked into the extra bag, catching a glimpse of a familiar crust. God, she was far too kind. He’d reject the offer, but he’d always wanted to bring some shepherd’s pie back to the pack. This was his chance.

“Ya sure?”

“Absolutely,” she confirmed, holding open the front door as Cú made his exit. “This is the least I could do for you, Cú. You have helped make us feel home in this far-off place. I would even say that you are family but—”

“Go out with me,” the werewolf interrupted, shoving all his reservations into his internal dumpster. He didn’t know how yet, but he was gonna make this work. “Come on, I know ya like me, shortie.”

Tiptoeing, Arturia snaked a hand into his hair and pulled him down to her level, planting a small kiss on his cheekbone.

“It is...a little more than ‘like’, I believe,” the woman admitted bashfully, trying to mask her embarrassment by awkwardly sneaking back behind the door. “...Eight tomorrow?”

Cú bit his lip, glad to hear confirmation on what he already knew. She loved him back. She loved him back. God, he better not be looking like a child just handed some candy.

“Nah, this morning weekend. This weekend morning. The morning of this weekend,” he fumbled, rewarded with a short chuckle from her end. “I wanna have a whole day with ya for once, shortie. I’ll make it worth yer time.”

There was a spring in his step as the alpha bounded across the forest that night, carrying the bags carefully with the handles between his teeth.

If only he weren’t so distracted. Then he’d have noticed the salivating spy that watched him leave the abandoned bear den with a fresh pack of meat.

Snow fell heavily across the landscape on Tuesday evening, covering the last of autumn’s colors in a blanket of pure white. After dinner time was always idle for Cú, so he spent it sharing Arturia’s gift with the kids and spinning his phone in his fingers.

Instinct told him a storm was coming, and though it would probably have passed by Saturday, Cú wondered if he should try and reschedule his anticipated date. He wasn’t too worried about Arturia, since Arthur said he’d be coming back up to the cottage tonight, so at least she wouldn’t be alone all through it. Plus, the twins really did have a lot of food in stock. In comparison, he and his pack were the ones less prepared.

His sharp ears perked up as a familiar presence entered the grounds. The alpha’s brow knitted, as the slight smell of blood entered the air, but if the little ones weren’t alarmed, it must not have been such a serious wound.

Diarmuid stepped into the kitchen, still pulling on a wool jacket and shaking the snow off of his dark hair.

“Evening, Alpha,” the handsome man said softly, taking notice of the pie that sat in front of the pups.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, just call me Cú. Yer no less my little bro now than ya were before, Diar,” he corrected, sliding a plate his way. “Try that.”

The amber-eyed man approached the meal like a cat did water: hesitantly and suspiciously. Thankfully, as soon as he had a taste he had about the same reaction as Ferdiad’s kids did. Which was...basically nearly crying tears of joy.

“Where did you say you got this?” Diarmuid asked, snatching up another helping as Cú smirked. He’d not give the answer up that easily.

The alpha’s red eyes landed on his brother’s shoulder, finding a clumsy bandage just sticking out the collar. At once, he herded the beta into a different room, far enough from the pups that they couldn’t hear.

“The hell happened to ya?” Cú demanded, pulling the shirt collar to the side to better gauge the severity of the wound.

“It’s a warning, Sétanta” Scáthach answered for her son, entering the log cabin from the back door. “The rival packs were closing in on the border. I doubt their side of the mountain is as scarce as they make it out to be and yet they have the gall to encroach on ours.”

“Our territory’s guarded. That’s why we moved Fergus, ain’t it? To cover all bases. Den in the center with the pups, Me and Diar in the North, and dad in the South. Fergus’s gang to the west, and we got the town in the east and all wolves know not to mess with the towns,” Cú shot back, unconcerned.

Red eyes much alike to Cú’s observed him with kind care, seeing the wolf pup and alpha both. The new leader was strong, but he was arrogant. In a way, he was a perfect successor, for she knew he could kill her should the need arise. However, too loose he was with laws; too untethered by the rules that kept their kind safe.

“It would be a show of strength to take a mate. To let all know that our new Alpha has his right hand—”

Cú waved his arms dismissively. “The hands I do have are more than enough to drive them off. Ya know that. Now, are we stocking up for the pups or what? The storm ain’t gonna delay, I can smell it.”

22:24 Read

Cú paced the main den like a dog kept in an enclosure for far too long, tossing his half-charged phone while he awaited her message.

Four days. It had been four days since the blizzard started, piling snow on top of snow day after day as if it was trying to beat some arctic record. The log cabin’s ground floor was completely sealed in. They’d been on generator for the last four hours, listening to the weatherman on the radio as he promised for the third time that tonight the storm would finally pass.

Diarmuid was curling up with his nephews, keeping them warm in wolf form as they slept. Cú thanked every god he knew that they went on a hunt before the blizzard hit, else the kids went hungry. He and Diarmuid hadn’t planned to stay at their brother’s but the weather hardly gave them a choice. Their cottage was a lot further off.

22:24 Read

Cracks appeared on the glass as Cú glared into his mobile’s screen, hoping for some sort of change. But no. There sat the same exchange from an hour ago, the same bloody text just very loudly broadcasting to him the worst news of today.

One of our generators broke down. I need to move the power to the barn.

For real? Are you okay, shortie?

Arturia?

Hey, ya can’t just leave me hangin like that.

Arturia?

22:24 Read

“Sétanta, would you just put the bloody phone down?!” Ferdiad screeched, snatching the device right out of the alpha’s hands. “I said we were gonna talk, how the hell are we supposed to talk when yer not even givin’ me the bloody time of day!”

The low growl that escaped through the alpha’s bared teeth shook the cabin like an earthquake.

“What,” Cú barked, grabbing his precious device back while his brother stood his ground. “If this is just another lecture about how Scáthach was right, I should have just fucked with Medb and get it over with, I ain’t hearing another fucking word.”

22:24 Read

“No, you piece of—” Ferdiad inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring with frustration. The older man grabbed his brother by the shoulders, shaking him like a rattle. “Cú. Listen to me.”

As Diarmuid shushed them both, Ferdiad pointed outside, to where nothing could be seen but heavy white ice.

“Do you seriously think Scáthach wants you to mate that pink-haired priss? ‘Course not. She just needs ya to set down roots,” the delta wolf explained, looking over the alpha’s shoulder to his three sons. “You are the strongest of us, Cú, but nothing ties ya to this territory. For all the outsiders know you could be planning to move and make your own pack.”

The younger of them grimaced as Diarmuid nodded from his perch with the pups.

“I ain’t going nowhere,” the new alpha emphasized, shrugging out of his brother’s touch.

“Well they don’t know that! What if this whole time, the only reason they haven’t advanced is cause we’ve been keeping close watch on our borders, hm? Hell, you and Diar have basically been here the entire fucking week, they probably think you’ve bloody moved on. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least if they took advantage of this stupid storm to move into our territory, now that you’re not guarding the north!” Ferdiad argued, baring his fangs at his superior.

22:24 Read.

Cú’s heart stopped, the poor phone in his hands near crunching in his grip. No. The Pendragons didn’t live too far from the town. It was fine. She was fine. Just snowed in.

No werewolf was crazy enough to go near town in their canine form, not even the rival packs. There was too much risk of being found out. Simply no way.

Unless...

22:24 Read.

Unless they didn’t have any food in store. Unless they were looking for some easy pickings. Maybe a couple of sheep that wouldn’t be missed, stolen from a farm just a little out of range of the nearby village.

A farm with a single, vulnerable caretaker, forced to share a heater with her flock.

22:24 Read.

Cú frantically pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear, shushing Ferdiad before the delta could return to making his arguments. Three rings later and the line cut. He tried again, heart dropping like deadweight when it gave the same result.

His footsteps became panicked as he walked round in circles, scrolling upward to a contact that was here only for emergencies.

“Arthur,” Cú said through the phone, hearing the familiar voice of his blonde friend coming through the line. “‘S Arturia there with ya?”

Suddenly a quiet bang resounded throughout the room. A gunshot, deafened by distance and snow. Any false sense of security Cú still had shattered with the sound.

“The hell?” Ferdiad exclaimed, rushing towards his children to comfort them. “There can’t be any humans crazy enough to hunt in that storm.”

The alpha was no longer around to hear him.

Arturia never held any hate for her half-sister. Not even when she banned her and her twin to Ireland with nothing left to their name. Despite everything, Arturia thought her punishment was not too cruel, for she still had Arthur. She still had a degree under her belt, and in a way, Morgan had cast her far away from a destiny she didn’t even want to fulfil. Arthur never wanted to take over the mining company and neither did she.

The first few weeks were difficult, but they learned to live on their own. They made a humble world for themselves that wasn’t tied to their prestigious last name. It was simple. But it was good.

She’d admit it got a little lonely with just the two of them around, but...then there was Cú. Cú, who helped them fix up the house, who came bringing drinks or food they could all share by the fire. Cú, who helped them get set up at the market, who got them their regular buyers and still made himself a frequent customer. Cú, who made up excuses just to see her, who scorned the couch to lie down on her lap while she read.

The cabin was always a little warmer when he was around. It was home when he was around.

She should have asked him out sooner.

The wolves came crashing through the windows, raining thick glass all over her flock. There were seven of them. All massive beasts with fur of brown and grey, glowing eyes and bared fangs. In their view, she may as well have been just another sheep, helpless in the face of the predator.

The air was a cacophony of distressed bleating, panicked hooves and growls as the sheep tried their best to escape their fate. Amidst it were her own hoarse screams as a brown beast sank its fangs into her arms, her frantic kicks to its belly doing nothing to throw the large beast off. Desperate green eyes searched the floor for her gun, which sat useless under her first attacker, a chestnut wolf that had ignored smaller prey and gone straight for her.

Her own blood dripped down onto her cheeks as the wolf above her crushed her limbs between its teeth. Arturia’s eyes prickled with tears as fresh cries escaped her lips, grieving not from the pain but for all she was going to lose. So soon, she had to say goodbye to her new life, her brother, to any chance she ever had at a happy ending.

The woman felt her predator’s claw stomp onto her throat, stifling her screams as its teeth dug into her shoulder. Salt fell freely from her eyes as the beast tore through the muscle. Was this how she was going to die? Cold and alone amongst the carcasses of her flock? Was this how Arthur would find her when the blizzard did subside, torn to pieces and left scattered all over the barn floor?

Arturia shut her eyes, unwilling to let her last sight be that of her killer. Instead, she thought of Arthur, hoping someone would be there for him through it all. She thought of Cú, she thought of the lovely blue dress she was supposed to wear when she finally went out with him. She’d been waiting for the day to finally wear it. She knew he loved the color blue.

As her lungs began to burn for air, her final thought was a prayer to a God she didn’t know she still believed in. If she were to die today, then let it be the last pain her two favorite boys would ever experience—

Suddenly, frigid oxygen entered her lungs as her attacker was tackled off of her, leaving Arturia hacking and coughing as she gasped for breath. She sat up dizzily, gripping her injured shoulder with bleeding arms as she tried to get her bearings.

The pack had abandoned the few sheep that were left, hounding instead the new arrival: a wolf easily larger than her from head to tail, with grey fur that glistened in the little light. Its glowing red eyes seemed aflame with rage as it sank its teeth into her attacker’s throat and snapped its neck like a toothpick, showering all the surrounding dogs with their leader’s blood. Even then, the grey wolf did not stop, jumping at the next canine and carrying out its execution.

The woman limped to the exit as fast as she could, bracing herself against the biting cold as she made her way back to the cabin. Behind her, the barking continued as wolf fought against wolf, the red-eyed one beating off the remaining four while the frightened sheep ran wild with fear.

Arturia slammed the cabin door closed behind her, bolting every lock there was with frostbitten fingers before sneaking a glance back into the barn through the window. There was barely anything to make out amidst the pouring snow and the painful throbbing in her head, but all she knew was that somehow...the newcomer was winning.

She didn’t know what kind of divine intervention must have occurred for that wolf to come save her, but...all it did was buy her a little time. Even if she was safe from predators in the cabin, the freezing cold would take her before morning. Maybe she could start a fire, but she’d lost so much blood, she could barely even stand.

After much struggle to ignite the tinder, the injured woman slumped onto the rug before the fireplace, taking comfort in the hearth’s warmth as the blizzard raged on outside.

A loud crash brought her attention behind her, to where stood the red eyed wolf, blood staining the grey fur on his shoulder. Two emotions gripped her heart at the same time: fear and recognition. As the beast stalked its way toward her, she finally understood why he looked so familiar.

It was the young wolf from last year, the one who sat right outside her fence, neither coming in to attack her flock, nor fleeing at the sight of her. She’d always wondered what became of him after he ran off with a couple of her sheep. He had a lot more weight on him compared to back then, enough that she knew it was hopeless to try fighting him off. If he’d somehow defeated the entire pack in the barn, an injured human like herself didn’t stand a chance.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” she croaked, her shattered vocal chords barely able to keep up. “Please just make it quick.”

Almost as if he could understand her, the wolf whimpered and flattened his ears against his head, lowering himself as he approached.

For the second time that night, Arturia shut her eyes as the wolf caged her broken, shivering figure to the floor. She stiffened, anticipating another bite as he brought his head closer.

Then she felt a warm tongue lick her cheek.

Arturia’s eyes snapped open in surprise, locking with increasingly familiar ruby irises. The wolf lay its head on her chest, gently resting on top of her as it whimpered. Suddenly, it began to whine, jerking back and forth as its body contorted itself into a different shape. One that was smaller, one that hadn’t a silver coat of fur, one that no longer crushed her underneath its weight.

Soon it wasn’t a wolf at all that Arturia held in her arms, but a man. Large hands that she recognized traveled up to her cheeks, his thumbs stroking away her tears. Her heart warred with itself, overtaken by pain, relief, fear, security. But all of that could wait.

Cú leaned forward til he was kissing her, molding his mouth into hers til he had her lips memorized.

“Cú,” Arturia whispered, when they separated to breathe, her injured arms wearily looping around his neck. “You’re…”

“Sorry,” The man shushed her with another deep kiss, enveloping her shivering figure into his embrace. “I didn’t wanna tell you like this, but I have no choice. I’m—”

“The wolf from last winter,” she interrupted, her mind struggling to put together the pieces. “The…wolf who came to save me. You were here with me this whole tim—mmh”

The man’s fingers snaked behind her head, supporting her as tasted her mouth once more.

“Ya saved me first.”

There was a desperation in the way that he moved, the way he touched her cold skin. He didn’t want it to be like this. He wished their first kiss would have been somewhere warm. He wanted to take her out to the lake, hold her hand…not drag her into his world of hunt-or-be-hunted.

Cú pressed his lips to her neck, regretting the multitude of wounds she sustained there. If only he were here earlier. If only he were faster. This would never have happened if wasn’t so damn careless.

The werewolf pulled down her scarf and jacket, exposing the deep wounds the rival pack leader had left at the junction of her shoulder and all over her arms.

They bit her.

Cú pursed his lips, placing a few more kisses to her temple. He hoped it would be enough. He hoped she would understand his feelings for her. He hoped she would forgive him.

“Let’s get ya patched up, shortie, okay?”

Cú borrowed some of Arthur’s clothes for the second time, leaving her momentarily to redirect the power back to the cottage instead of the barn. There were nothing but carcasses to warm over there now. After that, he no longer left her side, nursing her wounds the best that he could and keeping her close to share his body heat.

“You’re gonna turn,” Cú said seriously, hugging the one person he loved more than anything to his chest. Werewolf saliva was powerful, and so their kind never endeavored to sink their teeth into humans unless they were sure to kill the target or intentionally make them part of their pack.

“How soon?” Arturia answered back, turning to look up at her saviour. All the fear in her eyes had disappeared, replaced with melancholy and trust. Of course she was upset. Creatures of his world had just gone and stolen her new life away.

“The next full moon,” Cú answered regretfully, “Tomorrow night.”

Cú brushed her bangs out of her face, letting his ruby eyes clash with her emeralds. “Ya scared?”

The man didn’t even know why he was asking. But what were you supposed to say to someone who was just dragged into a hidden world she knew nothing about? How was he supposed to tell her she’d be riddled with bloodlust for the rest of her life, that she’d crave the hunt, that she’d yearn for the night? How was he supposed to tell her she had to give up the one family she had left to keep him away from the life of a hunter?

“Should I be?” Arturia answered, deceptively calm. No doubt, she was thinking of the heavy price she had to pay for surviving.

Cú knew Scáthach was coming. He could feel it. As soon as this bloody storm let up, the she-wolf would put her nose to the air, track him down to this cottage, and put down the rival pack’s unintentional new member before she even had the chance to morph.

Not if he could help it.

“Ya said l was like family to you, Arturia, did ya mean it?” he asked, his heart racing like crazy. His favorite person nodded into his chest, fiddling with his fingers and palm.

“Then...d’ya wanna be that to me, forever though?” he stuttered out, suddenly losing all manner of confidence.

Arturia got up to face him. “How do you mean?”

“Damn yer really gonna let me get into the specifics, huh? Right,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head despite himself. “Look, for us, there’s just one. One mate, for the rest of our lives. You just feel this...bond with them, ya know? Strong enough ya can’t bear to be without them. If ya let me, I want you to be that for me."

"Cú, are you asking me to wed you?" she asked back, confusion settling in the crease between her brows. "But we haven't even gone out yet—"

"Ya were gonna marry me eventually," he shot back, flicking the hair outta her face. "I'm quite the husband material, dontcha think? I bring ya food, I eat your pie—my family likes them by the way—I'm handsome as fuck, not ta mention, charming, what’s the harm in speeding things up a lil’?"

The werewolf grinned at her, trying to cover up how bloody nervous he actually felt.

“And also my pack won’t kill ya. Cause you know, technically ya belong to the rival pack, because they’re the ones that bit ya. But also yer all that’s left in that pack, after tonight and…” he paused, cupping her face with his hands, “I'll still court you, 'Turia. I want to. I'll give ya a good life. Swear.”

Arturia’s lips quirked upward for a second, knowing how crazy adamant Cú could be with following promises.

"Alright,” she confirmed, accepting his kiss. “I just...I worry about Arthur."

"So you finally show up, hm? Disappear for a while, why don't you? Doesn't matter whether or not the rival pack comes to—"

Scáthach inhaled, sniffing her grey wolf pup as she circled him. Something had changed about her son, she could feel it.

"There is no rival pack," Cú answered, grinning like a madman. “Only two new additions to ours.”

"What?"

“Last winter, it stormed just like this, didn’t it? No game, not even the smallest of hares. We were considering crossing over to the other side of the mountain, yeah?” Cú asked back, eagerly goading out the she-wolf’s response. Scáthach stared at him intensely, her red eyes glowing in the light of the full moon.

“You came back with sheep—”

The grey wolf nodded its head in a near-human fashion.”They were gifts. From them.”

Cú yipped, calling for the two concealed wolves to come into the den.

One was large and long, with fur as black as the bark of trees. He came out of the woods like a moving shadow, paws of coal shuffling through the snow. Even Scáthach, who was a midnight color herself, thought she was looking straight into a beautiful void.

The second wolf was smaller. She had a pelt of pure shining white, purer even than fresh snowfall. If not for the black nose that nuzzled into their alpha as she came close, she would be completely missable in their landscape of ice.Though of shorter stature, she strode like a king. Scáthach hadn’t a doubt that if this newcomer were born a wolf, she’d be an alpha herself without question.

The two newcomers stared at the she-wolf with matching emerald eyes, each set of orbs sparkling with the colors of the aurora. Siblings. Strong ones. But any wolf could tell these two were not born with beast’s blood like the rest of them, their footsteps were too unnatural. Too clumsy. They were made beasts, and by their scent it had been the doing of the rival pack.

As her son pressed his snout to the white wolf’s nose, several things finally clicked into place. Cú had gone and done what she’d been pestering him to do for the last few months and had eliminated the pack that had been encroaching on their territory in one fell swoop.

Cú had chosen his mate: a human convert who’d inherited their rivals’ land the day she was bitten. A human who they just so happened to owe a great debt for getting them through last year’s winter.

As Cú’s beastly eyes stared her down, Scáthach had to admit... her bratty pup finally had her at a total loss. She couldn’t be mad about anything, couldn’t even nitpick at the tiny size of his chosen queen or her tar-coat brother. Gosh, Fionn was gonna get a lotta kicks outta this.

“Names,” the she-wolf demanded, circling the twins while Cú gave her a shit-eating grin. Then, she turned, looking back just once to signal for them to follow.

Side by side, the new wolves and the alpha made their way into the central den. Arthur was immediately swarmed by Cú’s brothers. Arturia, by Ferdiad’s pups.

Later, when all had settled back into human skin and a fresh change of clothes, Cú looked about his pack. Fergus and Medb had come to visit, with all sorts of food in tow. Diarmuid excitedly showed Arthur around the wolf den while Fionn and Scathach kept to their own corner. Ferdiad and his litter sat right in front of the brick oven, eagerly awaiting the shepherd’s pie the twins had prepared.

The alpha leaned down, resting his cheek atop Arturia’s blonde head.

“We never did get to go on that date,” she whispered lightheartedly, leaning her head onto his chest. “I even had a dress prepared.”

“Mmmmm that so?” Cú shot back, grinning, “I just think since we are “mated” we really ought to get to mating if ya know what I—”

Arturia’s palm snapped onto his lips before he could complete the thought. Suddenly, they were wrestling each other to the floor, the older wolf chuckling like a madman all the while.

“Kidding—ooofghmhm--kidding, Arturia, I’m kidding, jeez,” he managed to get out, placating his blushing mate as he grabbed onto her hands. The Welsh woman panted, from her seat atop him, her green eyes looking everywhere else but into his red orbs.

“Eight tomorrow?” Arturia asked, though she knew full well Cú was coming home with her that day.

Not even caring about the teasing whoops resounding through the wolf den, Cú pulled his mate down for another hug.

“Yeah. I’d like that, shortie.”

#tysm for the ask!#:>#akampana asks #love confession prompts #whew that was a long one #hope you liked it anon #might remake this into a fic on ao3 soon #cutoria #cuturia #arturia pendragon #cu chulainn #artoria pendragon #cu #arturia #artoria #fate #fanfic

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kiss-my-freckle · 4 years

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The parallels reveal the playout. From surrogate daughter Abigail to surrogate daughter Mischa. From sister Margot back to sister Mischa. It’s the very reason Will doesn’t take off with Hannibal. I love this episode because it pushes back to 2x12 with Mason, then forward to Achilles and Patroclus on the cliff. Racking up the pain since 3x2, Will's human nature wanted the pain to stop, so he tried to kill Hannibal. Surrogate daughter to surrogate daughter. In this episode, Mason decides it wise to poke the beast within. He talks to Will about his tusked friend gutting him. It's the wendigo's instinct to disembowel. As Chilton said, "with these two, that's tantamount to flirtation." Prometheus stole fire from Zeus and restored it to humanity. Perfect placement. What happens when humanity plans to use that stolen fire to sizzle his wendigo friend... the stag bites into Cordell when he tries to apply lotion to his face. I love the markers. "It rubs the lotion on its skin." Pushing back to Will's reflection in the well water at Miriam's rescue site. Delicious stuff as he plans to steal Will's face. A mistake for Mason to mess with Margot while he's got her psychiatrist roped up in the pig pen, and he has no idea that his own psychiatrist is friends with Will Graham. Will knows the level of damage Hannibal is capable of because he saw it himself. Alana cutting Hannibal loose runs parallel to Will cutting him loose in 2x12. Only difference is the number of pigs he's being fed to. "Mason Verger is a pig, and he deserves to be somebody's bacon." Cordell brands Hannibal a "Verger" pig, parallel to his 2x12 role. "Dr. Lecter's the one you want to be feeding to your pigs." Margot's second unborn child sewn in a pig, parallel to Will's 2x12 role. "You must be the baby daddy." All of this solidifies more story for them in a fourth season because Will won't let Hannibal kill Alana. Shedding his humanity won't stop him from loving. She taps into it as the beast starts to settle. He's upset to find out she facilitated torture and death, and the police department brought them to the table. "Almost as ugly as what Mason wants to do to us is the fact that he can do it with the tacit agreement of people sworn to uphold the law." It's one thing to work outside the law for the greater good and kill someone quickly as he was hoping to kill Hannibal. Quite another to work outside the law for a nice payday and hand them over to be tortured and killed. But... "There is no mercy. We make mercy... manufacture it in the parts that have overgrown our basic reptile brain."

Having already adapted, he tells Alana to evolve. "Adapt. Evolve. Become." To save Will, she has to spill blood, and she knows it. He offers her a great solution. If you can't do the killing, just release my wendigo friend. I do believe Alana would "become" in a fourth season. "I was trying to save Will from you." She put more energy in trying to save Will from Hannibal when she should've tried saving Will from Jack. "Could I have ever understood you?" I believe she would in a fourth season because of Will. Margot's scene with Hannibal parallels and pushes. They do a nice-side-by-side scene cut. Cordell is taking Will's face to make a pig look human. Scene cut from Chiyoh (the most stable) to Will and his broken teacup because he's unstable. It shatters as an already broken teacup would, and it won't truly gather itself back together again. it's not supposed to. Will is left standing like Chiyoh was. Between the past and the future, between death and resurrection. Taxidermy. He'll hollow himself of Hannibal, Jack, and Alana. FiIll himself with something else. That's how he's able to let go of his friend for three years... he lets go of both sides of the split-screen. They show both sides of this split-screen in the way they cut scene. The shattered teacup being Hannibal's stag friend cutting into. The police lights being his FBI friend cutting out of.

As I said before, Will isn't one teacup, he's two. The teacup coming together in 3x2 was for Jack's friend. That's why his face is on the teacup. This pushes to 3x9 when Will looks in the mirror and his face starts chipping away. The teacup that shatters in this scene is for the stag... which Hannibal tried to eat in 3x6. The teacup remains shattered for the purpose of Francis' storyline. To become the lion, he has to build a new body. He can't be fragile anymore. So while he lies about delighting in wickedness, he truly doesn't want to think about Hannibal. His trip to the Lecter estate didn't do the stag any good. He believes Hannibal killed and ate Mischa, that he does this to his family because he just had his head cut into. He needs to differentiate the wendigo branded as a pig and the actual pig. That's why Hannibal was at Mason's table. The difference between the way Hannibal treated Mischa and the way Mason treated Margot. Hannibal surrenders because he won't leave without his family. It's not a matter of Will finding him, it's a matter of Will listening to him. They play the same soundtrack. In 2x13, 3x6, this scene with Will and Hannibal, and the deleted epilogue scene. Thematic, it seems. From 2x13 to 3x6 for the death of the lamb. From 3x7 to the deleted epilogue scene for the resurrected lion. That last gif is the core of Francis' storyline. Stripped down to these three characters, reveals everything. Stuck between humanity with Jack and inhumanity with Hannibal.

#Hannibal #3x7

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helaintoloki · 5 years

Text

Season of the Witch | Michael Langdon

chapter seven: The Lion and the Lamb

masterlist

pairing: Michael Langdon x reader

warnings: language, angst, violence, graphic descriptions, adult content, deception, toxic relationships, abuse, death, witchcraft, satanism and all that other good ahs stuff

notes: not the best chapter I’ve written tbh but then again I’m not all here right now so I apologize in advance. also I’m open to any questions, comments, concerns, etc about this story so feel free to drop some messages in my inbox :)

summary: y/n is reunited with two old friends, putting Michael’s master plan into motion

“I still don’t understand why I couldn’t bring Binx,” y/n pouts for what seems like the hundredth time, and Michael is very close to smacking her silly in order to get her to shut up about her dumb fucking cat.

“Because he’s extra weight to carry. Besides, we wouldn’t want poor old Binx getting lost in the big, bad city, would we?” Michael pouts, feigning innocence and thoughtfulness towards her feline companion, when in reality he can’t wait to mangle that little monster.

“I suppose,” she frowns, struggling to keep up with his long strides, “but I still don’t see why we’re here.”

“Don’t fret, little lamb,” Michael coos, his large hand resting on the small of her back as he guides her through the entrance of the hotel, “you’ll see soon enough.”

Y/N immediately cowers back upon entering, the restless and unruly souls present in the building making her skin crawl. She can’t see them, but she can feel them grabbing at her, begging for her to help them. She clings to Michael’s arm and follows him towards the elevator.

The blond glances down at the trembling witch beside him as the elevator goes up, shaking hands gripping onto his coat sleeve for dear life. She looks so helpless, so small and scared. And he smiles fondly down at her, his little lamb. And he, the lion, who for some reason has not decided to pounce on his prey and feast on her flesh. With every passing second Michael could feel the urge to protect her grow, the need to keep her by his side, the want of her submission. But she’d get in the way of his Father’s righteous plans for him. Thus, like a little boy denied the gift of a new pet, Michael suppressed his emotions and wordlessly guided her down the hall and towards one of the rooms.

Y/N could faintly hear the voice of a man dealing cards, his speech seeming out of touch with the modern world. Yet it wasn’t the man that almost brought her to her knees, instead it was the woman partaking in the card game with him.

“Queenie?” She called gently, almost scared to speak her name in fear that it was not the sister she knew and loved.

“Holy shit, y/n!” Queenie exclaimed, rising out of her chair and pulling the now weeping witch into a hug. “What are you doing here?!”

“I-I don’t-“ she hiccuped, too emotional and overwhelmed to speak. “I missed you.”

“Look at you, you’ve gotten so big,” Queenie coos, pulling away to look down at the girl. The last time Queenie had saw her she’d been fourteen, still young and blossoming into the woman she was meant to be. She could still see the innocent, smiling face of a younger y/n when she gazed upon the grown witch.

“Why are you here? Why haven’t you come home?” Y/N sniffled.

“I can’t leave this place. My soul is trapped in this shit hotel,” she sighed frustrated. “Cordelia tried to get me out but it wouldn’t work.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Michael buts in, causing both women to look at him oddly.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” Queenie asks.

“Oh, umm, this is Michael. He’s a warlock... and my friend,” y/n smiles sheepishly.

“Oh, y/n. I’m absolutely flattered,” Michael quirks, a smirk playing at his lips. Queenie rolls her eyes.

“Listen, I’m sure you’re super powerful or whatever, but if Cordelia couldn’t do it what makes you think you can?”

Michael simply holds his hand out towards Queenie, a wordless invitation to follow him towards salvation. What with her desperation to get the hell out of that place and the teary eyed look of y/n, Queenie let out a reluctant sigh and took the blond boy’s hand.

“Goodbye Queenie,” the man called as the trio walked out the door. “And god bless that poor little girl’s soul.”

~~~

“Do I have to blow you or something?” Madison asks sarcastically, and y/n shifts uncomfortably beside Queenie at the thought. She loved Madison, but y/n didn’t really appreciate her presence right at this moment.

“So who is this guy?” Queenie asks, and y/n shrugs.

“I just met him. He seems alright,” she says, eyes focused on the Hawthorne boy. “Scary, but nice.”

“Well can I anyway? You’re a snack and I haven’t had a good dicking in a long time,” Madison smirks, and y/n almost gags.

“Damn, a hoe even in the after life,” Queenie sighs, emerging from her hidden spot behind a clothing rack. Y/N follows meekly behind, a small smile on her face as she politely waves at Madison.

“Oh my god!” Madison cries, rushing to hug the girls. Queenie denies her a hug, but y/n welcomes her with open arms.

“How did you get here?!” Madison cries, pulling away to also admire the grown witch. “You look so pretty. Aww, you really were paying attention during my makeup lessons.”

“Hell really has made you a better person, hasn’t it?” Y/N retorts teasingly, and Madison’s face falls.

“Yeah, well, whatever. Just get me the hell out of here.”

“Gladly,” Michael says, hand extended towards Madison. He doesn’t miss the way y/n’s mouth twitches slightly to hold back a scowl, and just to spite her he’s sure to be extra delicate and careful with Madison. Her anger is delicious, and with his head held high he struts out of hell with the witches in tow.

~~~

Cordelia Goode walks out of Hawthorne with Zoe and Myrtle in tow. While Binx is happily nestled in Myrtle’s arms, his mother y/n is nowhere to be found.

“I’m sure she’s just waiting in the car, dear,” Myrtle suggests to ease her anxiety. Cordelia didn’t trust any of those Hawthorne warlocks with her precious daughter. She didn’t trust the warlocks at all, for that matter.

Her eyes furrowed as she saw figures approaching from the horizon. Michael was front and center, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face as his posey of witches followed closely. Queenie on one side and Madison on the other. And on his arm? Staring up at him like he was the moon and the stars and the sky? Her y/n.

She felt it before she dropped, the sinking feeling in her gut and sudden nausea bubbling up her throat. Her daughter, the witches she could not save, and Michael as the head of the group, their future supreme.

Y/N picked up the skirt of her satin black dress, the one Michael had changed her into, and rushed towards her mother’s collapsing form. Queenie followed closely after her, Madison staying behind to roll her eyes and take a drag of her cigarette.

And Michael? Michael beamed proudly at his work. The first part of his plan had been executed beautifully. The supreme was weakening. The door of opportunity was opening. And soon y/n would be a lost little lamb out in the open and far away from her flock, ready for the lion’s picking.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

tag list: @ticklish-leafy-plant @gx-nji @anacerta @bluebirdbts @heda-mikaelson @redlovett @fuck-yeah-bruno-buccerati @ateliefloresdaprimavera @quechulitaaa @theeonlyroman @hecohansen31 @frenchzodiacgirl @michaelsapostle

#american horror story #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x witch!reader #michael langdon fic #ahs fic #ahs apocalypse #ahs coven #cordelia #witch #season of the witch

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nardaviel · 6 years

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Part 6 / ?, introducing seasons(!) and an exciting new supporting cast member(!!!).

Many images contained within. The tags have spoilers, if you care about that sort of thing and if it isn’t already too obvious to count as a spoiler.

Starting out strong again with a chance card from En, just like in the last post. En would definitely go with the experimental piece but it’s a bit nerve-wracking because he's going to be promoted today, I think, if he doesn't screw this up.

Never mind about the promotion, then. :c

Especially if he's going to be pissed off for the rest of his shift. Poor En-chan. I’m interested in Pig Nose Galaxy.

Congrats, Atsushi! Everyone’s money-earning skills are maxed now. :D Maybe this has something to do with the brilliant centerpieces he once again improvised at work.

Poor En. Rough day, I know.

He shouts some forbidden words to blow off steam. Everything seems a little easier to take after that. Nothing quite like screaming “FUCK! SHIT! COCKSUCKER!” in broad daylight in the middle of the street to cheer you up.

Atsushi is making that face because he's a pastry chef now! He lost one of his days off but he only works five hours a day now, so I guess it kind of evens out?

An uneventful day later, Kinshirou goes out to send a book to the publisher, but when he turns around... there he is.

So that night, Atsushi finally learns how to make those garlic decorations. Here are the wreaths! There are going to be braids indoors as well, in case a vampire ever breaks in. The boys aren’t 100% clear on how they work, except that Sims can't get eaten while there's garlic around. So the more garlic the better, as far as they’re concerned.

One of the saddest things (really the only sad thing besides the expense) about building a second story was that Hou-chan couldn't follow them into their bedrooms anymore. I'm glad she can climb stairs now that she's an adult kitty.

I got this far into the game, then took a long hiatus from TS4, during which time Seasons(!!!!!!!) came out. When I came back to the game, I decided I wanted to play around with the new gardening career and the changes to the gardening skill.

So guess who I made.

That's right. Their new neighbor has finally moved in.

Poor Ibushi, I made him a decent house (or the best house I could make with such an extremely tiny lot and limited budget) and then he could barely afford any furniture for it. No floor plan because I don't intend to spend much (or any?) more time in these posts following the Arima household. This is a Kinatsuen LP, after all. But we can take a look at his welcome wagon.

Ibushi: Ah, hello! Come in, don't mind the lack of furniture... En: *stares across the street at his own house* I could be asleep right now, but no.

Look at that grumpy face. Atsushi just dragged him out of bed ten minutes ago, didn't he. That’s why he’s not in the other screenshot. He was still getting dressed.

Kinshirou: Psst. Atchan. Atsushi: What is it? Kinshirou: There's barely any furniture in here. Atsushi: Shh! Don't be rude.

But the real reason Kinshirou is so uncomfortable is that Ibushi's sudden appearance makes the Veil series—in which the triad have a four-way romance with a guy named Ibushi Arima, who looks and behaves very much like this new neighbor—suddenly very strange and kind of creepy. Hopefully Ibushi isn't familiar with Kinshirou's work.

Atsushi has brought the fruitcake this time. He places it on the one surface in the entire house.

Ibushi thanks Kinshirou for coming very enthusiastically. (The shitty lighting, like the lack of furniture, is down to Ibushi's lack of cash. He has §3 right now.)

Ibushi: And can I say, it’s such an honor to meet you. I'm a big fan of your writing. Kinshirou: Ah... Thank you...

It was impossible to make a decent Ibushi Sim, though. As impossible as it is to take decent screenshots in this house with all these people here. I didn't think about that when I made it because I forgot about welcome wagons. But yeah, this is the best Ibushi I could get. He’s grown on me, though! I like him now. But I remember at first I was a little uncertain.

I ship it. Go sit on the bed with them, Atsushi.

Atsushi waited too long to make his move. En is disappointed too. That, or he's just jealous of Avery's fruitcake but he doesn’t want to get up to get his own.

What's up with Atsushi? Is he just pleased to see plants, or...?

Yep, he's just... talking to them. You have real humans you could talk to inside, sweetheart, but all right.

En: What are you doing out here all alone? Kinshirou: Are you talking to the plants? (Does he feel lonely? That’s the only time he talks to our plants...)

Just a reminder: I can’t control them right now. I’m playing Ibushi’s household. They autonomously came out here, one right after the other, to kiss Atsushi’s cheek...

...then to hug each other and congratulate each other on their good Atsushi-cheering teamwork.

Ibushi doesn’t have enough good things to say about Atsushi’s fruitcake.

Ibushi: One time when my grandmother fed us some fruitcake, it broke my cousin’s tooth, but yours was actually enjoyable. You have a real talent.

He follows up with what looks like a stressful attempt to tell an amusing story while Kinshirou passive-aggressively waters the plants. Look, Kinshirou, you're the one who arrived while he was in the middle of watering, okay. It’s your own fault he didn’t get it done.

En has wandered back in and now finds himself alone with their neighbor Avery. I wonder what’s going on with this interaction.

This is the face Kinshirou makes when he's listening very intently. Ibushi’s love of fruitcake must have caught his attention.

After the welcome wagon has wound down and everyone else has gone home, En remains, eating some of the last of Ibushi's non-fruitcake food. Thanks, En.

Ibushi hangs out with them all several times after this, but I usually don't bother with screencaps. Here's a short mostly-text recap of relevant or amusing happenings:

Ibushi sends Atsushi a happy text. Atsushi responds with something to the effect of "yeah isn't today great, let's hang out!!!" so they do, and Ibushi becomes friends with Atsushi before either of the others

Atsushi asks Ibushi if he wants to meet at the Spice Festival, Ibushi agrees because he was already at the Spice Festival anyway lmao

While they're there they spot En lurking by the curry contest wearing this

?????????????????????????????? Nice bracelets, En.

Ibushi chats with En online and befriends him also, making Kinshirou the last one he's not friends with? Weird

But almost as soon as he and En are friends, Kinshirou texts him asking him to go hang out in the park at 12:03am ... is he jealous ... it's especially suspicious because he takes Ibushi to the park that's mostly just a wedding venue. It starts raining as soon as they get there (Seasons!!!!!! best xpac) but they sit around in the rain anyway and become friends

"Incoming text message: En Yufuin. "Hey, I heard you became friends with Kinshirou Kusatsu! He's pretty cool!"" That is the most OOC thing the game has done so far

Atsushi invites Ibushi to the Romance Festival which is a little bit ??? until Ibushi goes and sees that En's come to sell paintings

Atsushi just wanted to bring his boyfriend more customers lmao. In any event, Ibushi splurges and buys both paintings. The diagram can make him focused which is good for gardening, and he just liked the doughnuts. I like how, when En goes out to sell his artwork, he brings a questionable mathematical diagram and a painting of sweets

So that's how things are going with the four of them, although I will say that by the time I start playing the Kinatsuen household, the inside of Ibushi’s house is looking much nicer and he's actually run out of space to put stuff. So don't worry about him, he's fine.

New with Seasons, a calendar that (among other things) tells me when everyone has a free day. Too bad I didn't have it when Enatsu were still struggling to go on a date.

Here's something troubling, though. The house is decorated that way (I think) because all the neighbors' houses get decorations relevant to the next holiday, and for a little while Kinatsuen were neighbors, not the active household. But they don't actually have the item that lets you add, remove, or change out decorations. So are they just going to be stuck with Halloween decorations forever...?

(No. Kinshirou will get them their box of decorations and insist on putting up seasonally appropriate decor.)

Also they need to get the gardening plants sorted out, now that most of them only grow in some seasons.

Look, I'm just really excited about the new glass roofs, okay. (Although why aren't there any white panes??? It looks so bad right now lol) I don't know why anyone would want to have a greenhouse on top of their bedroom but whatever, the game has HVAC now too. I just hope I don't forget the plants are there.

And now they finally have space (and money) for an observatory :D

I don't know what they're going to have beside the house where the plants were. Maybe that's where they'll make snowmen or whatever.

While Atsushi works and Kinshirou meditates, En explains the meaning of his newest painting to Hou-chan.

En: No, like, it’s abstract, right? So the fact that there’s no Loch Ness monster is the commentary on the Loch Ness monster. It could be anywhere, it could be nowhere. All you can see is the water.

For a while now, Atsushi has wanted to host a dinner party and cook for people. The arrival of their new neighbor (half a year ago since it’s now autumn but whatever okay) is a good opportunity.

As he gets started on a rack of lamb and En gets started on his dessert...

...Kinshirou introduces himself to Avery, even though they met earlier at Ibushi's welcome wagon, and possibly earlier than that at Kinatsuen’s own welcome wagon. Maybe Kinshirou doesn’t recognize him because he’s gotten old? I’ve done this too, forgetting you’ve already met someone. It’s super embarrassing.

It's a shame you have to invite 2+ guests to dinner parties tbh because I wanted it to just be the four of them. Ibushi looks pleased be here, at least.

They bought a stereo for ambiance during the party (i.e. it's part of one of the goals) but Hou-chan is terrified of it. :C

Looks like everyone’s pleased with the food.

And here’s a screenshot with just the important people, where their faces aren’t covered. What a nice dinner party. :D Good job, Atsushi!

screenshots that make you go hmmm

I would love to tell you what happened to En but I have, genuinely, no idea. I didn’t see it happen, there was no notif or informative moodlet afterwards... a mystery.

En and Atsushi are both asleep by the time the party's over because they're terrible hosts, so Kinshirou is the only one who gets to enjoy the confident moodlet they all got for their good party. It wasn't gold, but it was silver and that was all Atsushi needed for his cooking aspiration. So! Mission accomplished.

The next day is Halloween! I had to make it myself because it didn't come with the game. The holiday traditions are trick-or-treating, wearing costumes, telling stories, "spooky spirit", and decorating.

This is how I discovered that Sims can love or ignore traditions according to their personality traits. The more I play Seasons, the better it gets. En hates decorating and will not do it, but he likes wearing costumes... take that however you want. Meanwhile Kinshirou loves decorating (although the house was already decorated), he and Atsushi both love telling stories, and he ignores trick-or-treating because he's a snob <3

As soon as he wakes up, En gets in costume. It’s not a real premade outfit without a clippy hat!!

Kinshirou: What is that vulgar costume? I can't even look at it. En: Really? I thought you'd like it. It's from this porno where a guy—

Atsushi: En-chan, please, I'm not awake enough to play referee right now.

After breakfast En and Atsushi harass Kinshirou about costumes, until:

Atsushi: Kin-chan, your costume looks so good! En: Wow, yeah, it seriously does. Is that the supervillain costume? It’s a good look. Kinshirou: Ugh. These plebeian traditions...

Sims don’t work on Halloween, so Enatsu spend it telling each other spooky stories in costume.

Kinshirou, however, changes out of his costume as soon as possible and happily waters the plants.

Hou-chan is enjoying Halloween too!! As she deserves.

That evening, Atsushi handles the trick-or-treaters. He chooses to give treats to everyone so next year their house is going to be swarmed with kids, I suppose. The first time he does it, I have a minor freakout because it seems like it costs §75 to give a treat, but it turns out En has just spent §75 to start a medium-sized painting...

...which ends up being another impressionist masterpiece, and also, extremely cute.

Atsushi runs out back to burn this leaf pile behind their property that’s gotten gross, and that’s how I learn that adding spooky spirit to a holiday means lots of ghosts come out that night... so um.

Being the polite young man he is, he introduces himself. He’s terrified, poor thing.

Atsushi: Ah, yes, um, hello. Nice to meet you. I'm Atsushi. Ghost: I am Paolo. Atsushi: Paolo! Nice to meet you, Paolo. So um... what... brings you to these parts... eheheh...

This is honestly En’s new favorite place to sleep.

The next morning, they're all happy because of their awesome Halloween. Kinshirou decides to spend this wonderful morning up in the greenhouse researching Atsushi's plants, which are quickly becoming his plants.

The greenhouse which now has a white CC roof, thank god.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CONGRATS, EN

He didn't even need the good easel from the promotion reward lol. That was the only reason he was even working, if you’ve forgotten. To get that easel so he could finish his aspiration. But he's so close to getting it that it seems like a shame to have him quit now. One more promotion then you can quit, En!!

Oh, lord, what should his next aspiration be though. There's no ultimate procrastination advocate aspiration... I think he just wants to enjoy his success for a little while. No need to start on something else right away, right? He can just chill out for a bit.

Honestly, though, I was just trying to get him to make another playful doughnut painting like Ibushi bought, but instead he made a masterpiece-quality playful painting that's in all other respects exactly the same as the playful painting we already had.

Can you tell the difference? No? I'll tell you the difference: The difference is, the painting on the top is a masterpiece that is worth §2,000 more and emits much more playful vibes than the identical painting on the bottom.

Meanwhile, Kin-chan has learned how to comfort himself with plants when he's lonely, even though there’s a cat right next to him.

And Atsushi is happily drinking tea that he believes to be “healthy green” tea. For once, En is the only Sim who has it together.

On the other hand, Kinshirou really is far and away the biggest earner in the household. Jeez. That's §4,621 right there. For comparison, that masterpiece of En's was his most expensive ever at about §2,300, and I almost never sell his masterpieces anyway because I feel bad about it. Atsushi brings in a little more than §500 a day.

En painted a second masterpiece in a row. He's so talented. :D That's a strange choice of subject for a flirty painting, though, since they're all dudes.

In the spirit of letting En have a chill time now that his aspiration is done, I downloaded a custom aspiration for him that's just about fulfilling whims. His life goal right now is to do whatever he feels like at any given moment. Very En, I think. Also I never pay attention to whims, so maybe this will get me to start.

Ibushi invites En over to hang out and En brings Kinshirou with him. A fun, relaxing afternoon at a friend’s.

...is what they think but then they arrive to find Ibushi literally freezing to death outside his home. It’s so cold out wtf why isn’t he wearing his cold weather clothes??

Everyone else is in their cold weather outfits! Why are you just standing around in short sleeves, Ibushi!!! God.

Despite the fact that he is near death, En has to practically drag him indoors and turn on the heat for him.

Ibushi: So cold :c En: Hey, here's an idea. Ibushi: Mm? En: Why don't you change into some warm clothes? You know, since it's freezing cold out?

Ibushi: Oh. You mean like this? En: ...yeah. Nice sweater.

Ibushi: *sensing sarcasm* Thank you. It's a shame I can't say the same about yours.

It’s at this moment, watching Ibushi, that I learned that uncomfortable Sims' lips tremble like they're about to start crying. He looks so sad and pathetic that I feel kind of bad, but like... honestly why didn't he just put on a sweater.

Here’s Woody Arima, the puppy Ibushi adopted. An aggressive little bby who barks all the time, but he's very loyal! And Ibushi was charmed by how he tries to be all fierce when he's so tiny. He’s a bit dirty now but don’t worry about that, it’ll be taken care of.

Apparently, Kinshirou is the type of guy who comes over to your house and then spends the whole time on your computer, chatting with other people.

En: Hahaha, that's hilari... huh? Kinshirou, where are you going? Kinshirou: I'm bathing your puppy, Ibushi. He's filthy. Ibushi: Oh, you don't need to— En: No, let him do it. Cleaning things makes him happy.

Presented without comment.

And then...

En: You're a good guy, you know? A good friend. Ibushi: You are too, I suppose. Despite the state of your winter clothes. En: Yeah, okay, whatever. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I don't think I have a better friend than you. Ibushi: Yes, I... feel the same way, En. En: ...You know what we have to do now? Ibushi: I believe so.

So now En and Ibushi are BFFs.

(I know this is a bit odd but my logic goes like this: Only one Kinatsuen couple can be BFFs since you can't have more than one, Kinshirou has to be married to his BFF for his aspiration so he has to be half of the BFF couple, and Kinatsu is a much more likely BFF duo than Enkin. So I'm glad En has someone to be best friends with now. Even if the lighting in these screenshots still makes me sigh sadly.)

Upstairs, Kinshirou is having a fun time doing his favorite activity: cleaning.

Clean doggo. The true Woody!

En chats with his new BFF a little more before he and Kinshirou have to head home to see Atsushi. In the background, all Ibushi’s plants are growing happily. I told you his house got less depressing.

When they get back, En plays in a leaf pile behind the house. What else are leaf piles for if not to play in, right??? We’ll get an answer to that later on in the post actually. In the background, Atsushi trots around being responsible and burning old piles that have started to rot.

Is this what fulfilling whims does for Sims? I should be doing it all the time. He’s so happy.

Atsushi: *singing under his breath* Cool guys don’t look at explosions... they blow things up and then walk away...

Lmao he won't go up to the door anymore. He just stands awkwardly at the top of the front steps for a while and then leaves.

A rare cutaway walls screenshot to show Kinshirou and En not even sharing a bed but sleeping in each other’s beds. (Also, yes, they leave the bathroom light on at night.)

Zundar begins to show his true colors. Although who detected these trace signatures of radiation, exactly?

Uh-oh. Is this his response to Kinshirou's biography of him? An autobiography written under a pseudonym?? Two different narratives competing for the public's attention???

While En and Atsushi are at work, Kinshirou and Hou-chan bond and become companions. :D He’s not concerned about your autobiography, Zundar.

A true modern relationship: Complaining about work to your gay boyfriend while he cranes his neck to look at you from his adjacent computer desk.

Atsushi curls his lip in contempt. He must have had a real bad day. Maybe he just needs to wear his glasses to work?

I am not gonna lie, he looks really, really attractive here.

Atsushi: You know what, Kin-chan? I'm sick of coming home every day with a headache. I'm wearing my glasses to work and if my boss doesn't like it, I'll talk to HR.

I can't believe it took me this long to google "how to edit someones work outfit in sims 4". God.

In fact, changing out of his work clothes altogether and meditating seems like a good plan right now.

He did it! That’s the easel! Congrats, En, now you can quit your job! That is a huge pay raise, though, it almost seems like a shame...

But look at that sulky face. He just wants to be done.

He and Atsushi both came home really wanting a vacation. Is it getting to be that time again...? I've been kind of wanting to send someone to Selvadorada. If Atsushi starts constantly getting the moodlet, maybe I'll think about it.

But before En quits his job, he has a plan.

En: Hello? Hi, it's Yufuin. Sorry about this, a last-minute thing came up and I'm going to need to take all my paid time off starting tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow. Thanks.

The new easel for which he toiled so long. His first two paintings on it are masterpieces :D

Other Sims just have whims about playing in leaves and stuff during autumn, but Kinshirou daydreams about doing chores. Who am I to deny him?

Oh, no... Hou-chan is scared of their nice cozy fireplace too...

Atsushi: Hey, hey, it's all right, Hou-chan. It won't hurt you.

En: Hey, welcome back. You worked hard out there, huh?

En: How about claiming your reward? ;) Kinshirou: What? En: ;))) Kinshirou: ...Ah.

Kinshirou: Very well.

Kinshirou: This is absurd. You come up with the most ridiculous ideas. En: You say that like you don't like it, but you’re smiling at me.

En: Now come on. Kinshirou: So abruptly—!

En: Yeah.

This is my new favorite WooHoo location. It’s a shame it’s only available during fall.

Kinshirou: Ah, you have a leaf on you. En: Oh, thanks. Kinshirou: Of course, you might not be so disheveled if you hadn’t rolled us around so much... En: Oh, really? Should I do it less next time then? Kinshirou: ... En: That’s what I thought.

Atsushi is having a nice time in front of the fire watching a cooking show, oblivious to the debauchery taking place on his own front lawn.

Kinshirou: ...and now the leaves are scattered around the yard again. Perhaps I should have predicted that. I suppose I should get them back in order. En: You really don't have to, you know. No one's going to care if you wait until morning. Kinshirou: I will care. En: Well, I'm going to sleep. Come find me when you're done. Kinshirou: ...I'll spend the night with Atchan.

How are those wedding plans coming along? Since Kinshirou probably won’t let him sleep all day, what is En even going to do with all his new free time? When will they move out, and what will happen to their neighborly relationship with Ibushi when they do? Are they actually going to go to Selvadorada? I can’t guarantee that most of those questions will be answered soon but I can promise that the next part will include, among other things, such delights(?) as Pretty Boy Day and En doing yoga.

#boueibu #kinatsuen #kinshirou kusatsu #atsushi kinugawa #en yufuin #my post #sims 4 kinatsuen #ibushi arima #thats the spoilery tag #but who else would i go to the trouble of making and playing #so not much of a spoiler honestly #part 7 will be a little shorter than this #then ill be caught up for the first time ... possibly ever #assuming i dont play more before i post part 7 rip

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sturgispodmoreaow-blog · 7 years

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Mini #AOW Challenge

Howdy! Clearly I left this to the last minute (#worstadminever), but I want to get this posted before AOW officially opens in less than an hour. Ahhh!! So without further ado, here’s a little bit about me:

I have a scar over my left eyebrow from when I cut my head open as a kiddo. No one EVER notices it until I point it out, and tbh sometimes I forget about it. When I first read Harry Potter as a wee one, I was incredibly endeared to Harry for many reasons, one being the whole scar on the head thing (although mine’s definitely not lightening bolt shaped). Also, I have green eyes!

I’m usually surrounded by an army of corgis. Okay, that’s over-dramatization, but I have two and a half corgis (we say half, because one is a mutt we rescued and we’re 99.99% sure he has a little bit of corgi in him). I grew up with corgis, so yes---as the hipsters say---I liked corgis before they took up your entire Facebook newsfeed (or something along those lines). Also, yep, they definitely are very cute, but they can be brats too. Love ‘em just the same, though!

If you want to know what I was like as a little one, it’s pretty much the girl from this video. Like, 100%. My mom has a recording of me at an elementary school recital where I literally pushed my way to the front, stood right in front of the microphone, and sang my damn heart out. When this video went viral, my mom texted me it and was like “Do you have a child I don’t know about?”

And now, for a little more about Sturgis Podmore:

Sturgis’ mom, Lavinia, is a badass entrepreneur. Her drive for success (as well as his father’s) is a big reason why Sturgis is an ambitious person. Lavinia owns a handful of fashion boutiques across Great Britain, styling Witches and Wizards alike. Each location of Lavinia Gene Loft has a slightly different clientele, and yes it’s a play off of Ann Taylor Loft (bite me, they have good professional clothes that I need). The OG location is in Sturgis’ hometown of Portsmouth, and sells clothing that’s great for everyday use and a sunny holiday (so swimsuits, sundresses, bell bottom pants, all of your 70s needs). The location in Holyhead is ritzy, selling designer things, so if your character likes the finer things in life, definitely head over there. My favorite is the warehouse located in Puddlemere. Basically you can find all of last season’s and last-last season’s clothing at a ridiculous discount. Because what’s better than looking good and spending little money?!

Sturgis has an aversion to bird meat. I couldn’t tell you why, he just thinks it’s dirty. He’s fine with red meat and pork, but he will run away from chicken, turkey, etc. So holidays at the Podmores will never include turkey, but they’re here for a nice rack of lamb or prime rib.

Sturgis is a terrible flyer and scared of heights. Which is hella ironic since he’s eventually part of the Advance Guard. Suffice to say that he’s got a lot of work ahead of him, and many, many flying lessons to take over the next couple of decades.

#aow ooc #aow challenge #i'm working at a snail's pace because MY COFFEE POT BROKE THIS MORNING !!

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meatismurderbutalsodelicious · 4 years

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Peking Duck for Beginners

Ireland is all about the produce and the farming. It’s about tender beef, lamb and pork, fresh seafood and bountiful, beautiful poultry.

All at remarkably reasonable prices compared to say our former homes in New York and Hong Kong. Admittedly, when you choose to live in two of the most expensive cities in the world, costly groceries and the dreaded “gourmet stores” and “artisanal” anything comes with the territory.

Not so in Ireland. While downtown Dublin and some of the more affluent towns have shops and markets with pretensions, the major supermarkets and local produce stores, butchers and fishmongers overflow with reasonable prices, gourmet quality products.

I walked into the local Centra supermarket on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and saw they had fresh duck for sale, an almost 5-pound bird, locally raised, for €6. Yes, you read that correctly. And these were beautiful!

Thanksgiving was upon us and both Bob and I are not much for sentimentality these days, what with the United States verging on failed state status.

But, you know what? I've always hated Thanksgiving. Don't miss it. The forced bonhomie. Turkey. Weird relatives. Shit television and phony patriotism. This year, with added death.

And turkey’s are too much work with too little reward—the breast meat is notoriously dry, and the dark meat often cooks first before the rest of the bird, so in the end you need gravy and cranberry sauce to save it.

So, with that in mind, I pulled together a pretty authentic Peking Duck recipe.

Full Disclosure: I Googled a lot of recipes and while many of the fast and easy recipes use honey to create the glaze, as well as using jarred Hoisin sauce, I wanted to go with as many natural ingredients as I could find to make it as homemade and natural as possible.

Ingredients

1 4- to 5-pound whole duck

1 2- to 3-inch cinnamon stick

3 1-to 2-inch pieces of fresh ginger

1 tablespoon cilantro/coriander seeds

1 tablespoon Chinese Five Spice (if not available, 1 teaspoon of ground nutmeg)

1 teaspoon white pepper

2- to 3 cloves

1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar

2- to 3-tablespoons light soy sauce

2- to 3-tablespoons dark soy sauce

1 tablespoon honey

1 orange, quartered

2 to 3 green onions

½ cup plum sauce or Hoisin sauce depending on availability

1 teaspoon palm or brown sugar

One large scallion, finely chopped

One stick of celery, finely chopped

A handful of fresh cilantro/coriander, roughly chopped

I left the duck out to come to room temperature and let it become more pliable. Ducks are fatty fowl with a meat that has a sweet, almost beef-like quality.

Don’t let the size of the duck fool you, in all honesty, one duck barely feeds to adult grown men, so if you’re going for a party of four to six, I recommend TWO ducks and a lot of side dishes. LOL!

In a traditional setting, the Peking Duck is slow roasted, hung indirectly over the fire in giant earthen-ware ovens with the rendered fat dripping away, keeping the meet juicy and the skin crisp.

All I got is a gas-oven, so, improvisation is key.

While the duck came to room temperature, I made the paste of what was to become the the basting sauce.

Take half the cinnamon stick, chop two to three inch slices of peeled ginger, a handful of the cilantro, the cilantro seeds, white pepper, salt and cloves, the five spice or nutmeg and throw that into a food processor.

Now, I read multiple recipes and watched several videos and decided it was easier to cut to the chase.

Peking Duck is defined by its aromatic sweetness, its crispy skin and succulent flesh kept moist by the slow-roasting method which renders the fat through the meat on its way out of the bird.

So, instead of just seasoning the cavity of the duck with a portion of the paste, I opted to stuff the bird with two quarters of an orange, three to four-inch pieces of ginger, the other half of the cinnamon stick, crumbled, two to three star anise and and a tablespoon of cilantro seeds.

My concern was first and foremost keeping the duck meat moist. This was my first attempt at slow-roasting a duck of any kind and I wanted to assure maximum flavor and tenderness.

Next, I added two tablespoons of light soy sauce, one tablespoon of dark soy sauce and a tablespoon of vegetable oil to the spice paste to create the sauce that I was going to baste the duck in prior to, and during the roasting process.

I used a roasting tin with a tray that’s about three-inches deep. I lined it with tinfoil and added about an inch-and-half of water.

Next, with a sharp paring knife I pierce the duck’s skin, about a dozen to 20 piercings on the top of the duck and the bottom. You want all the fat to render out during the cooking process.

As you begin to brush on the sauce and prepare it for cooking, pre-heat your oven to C200-F390 degrees for at least a half-hour.

Once the oven is at the desired temperature, place the duck in the center rack of the oven and lower the temperature to C120-F250.

This was about a five-pound duck, so every thirty minutes, I would take the duck out and turn it over on the roasting tray. I would also pierce the skin, as during the cooking process, the skin tightens and sometimes the initial piercings reseal.

I rotated the duck every 30 minutes for 3 hours. Each time I flipped the bird, I would brush over the remainder of the glaze. As you start to run out of glaze, just add some soy sauce to the mix, to extend the sauce. It’s already packing a lot of flavor, so you’re not diluting it at this point, since most of the herbs and spices are on the duck.

Following the three hours, I turned the over to the grill for 15 minutes to get a nice crispiness to the skin. Watch it carefully as you don’t want it to burn.

Next, I chopped up celery and scallions into a fine julienne, as well as fresh coriander/cilantro. You can use either plum or hoisin sauce with the small pancakes. Plum is preferred, but might be hard to come by if you don’t have a dedicated Asian market.

I’ve tried to make this as authentic as possible, and while visually, it lacked the beautiful deep orange sheen of a Peking Duck from an authentic Chinese restaurant, the flavors were spot on and I can’t recommend this recipe enough for fans of the dish.

Enjoy!

#peking duck #chinese food #homecooking

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caffeinatedxbean · 5 years

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Blog 1- Purchasing Meat & Game

I was ecstatic when I found out we had to select an odd meat or Game Animal for this assignment. I have been wanting to try Kangaroo for years, and this blog just happened to be the perfect opportunity. Before I even thought about picking up a hunk of roo, I did some research on the different cuts, how it’s processed, what to expect flavour wise and tips on how to cook it. According to National Geographic, there are around 50 million Kangaroos in Australia (pre fires), and all of the Kangaroo meat we consume is wild caught making them one of the most sustainable sources of protein (depending on where you live). Flavour wise, people say it taste like a mixture of gamey beef and lamb. There are 6 common cuts of Kangaroo; Striploin and Loin, Rump, Tail, Trim, Diced and Mince. Since kangaroos are such lean animals, it is crucial to not overcook it. Medium rare is the sweet spot we are aiming for.

I went over to St Lawrence market and visited Whitehouse Meats. They had Kangaroo burgers, mince and Loin. I picked up a piece of Kangaroo Loin which was being sold for $30/lb. The one I bought was $24.75 and came with 3 pieces of meat.

Since Kangaroo is so lean I decided to treat it like a steak; sear until gorgeous and butter baste it in rosemary, thyme, and garlic until medium rare. I have also read that orange goes well with the flavour and figured it would go nicely with the rosemary and thyme.

The flavour was not far off of what I’ve read on the internet. It taste like gamey beef with notes of, I can’t believe I’m saying this, grass, and has the same texture as beef as well. During the whole process of doing research, shopping, developing a recipe and cooking, I was very excited to try this anaimal. However, once I got to the part where I had to consume it, the more my mind processed it’s a kangaroo. The first few bites were pleasant but the more you eat it the less appetizing it becomes. If I were to cook this again I would consider using the meat in an appetizer that way I won’t be so overwhelmed about eating 3 pieces of loin.

Rosemary & Orange Kangaroo steak with Citrus Cilantro Chimichurri

Steaks

Kangaroo Loin

15ml olive oil

3g rosemary, fine chop + 2 sprigs for basting

3g thyme, fine chop + 2 sprigs or basting

½ orange zest & juice

5g ginger

2 cloves garlic, rasped + 2 cloves crushed for basting

Salt & pep to taste

4 tbsp butter

Citrus Cilantro Chimichurri

¼ bunch cilantro

¼ bunch parsley

150ml olive oil

½ lemon, juiced

½ orange, juiced

1 clove garlic, rasped

Salt and pepper to taste

Method

Add rosemary, thyme, orange juice and zest, ginger, garlic and olive oil into a bowl and mix until combined.

Pat Kangaroo loins dry of excess “purge” or bag juices and add to the marinade. Let it hangout until you’re ready to cook. You can use it right away or let it chill in the fridge, just remember to take it out 30 min before cooking.

Lightly grease a cast iron pan and get it ripping hot. Pat away any excess marinated and season with salt and pepper.

Sear kangaroo until a beautiful dark golden crust forms and do that on all sides. Once you sear the last side, add 4 tbsp butter, rosemary and thyme sprigs and crushed garlic and start basting your steaks. Cook until desired temp. 140F for medium rare.

Let your steaks cool on a rack for 5-10 minutes

Roughly chop up your herbs and place them in a bowl. Add the olive oil, lemon and orange juice, garlic and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Slice open Kangaroo and top it with the chimichurri.

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fmlfpl · 5 years

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Lineup Lamentations - GW7

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week!

—

WALSH

TRANSFERS:

OUT: McGinn

IN: Mount

Okay fam, I fucked up this week.

Hands in the air this one is on me but I fucked myself by not moving on Wednesday before price changes where both Tammy and Mount went up so I am 0.1 away now from doing the double swap.

Was waiting for all the cup games to end and then was planning on getting Tammy in before his rise...totally forgot... Mount rose as well and so fuck me. Vacation mode throwing me properly off over here so what can I do? I am but a flawed human and I will live with the consequences of my dumbassedry.

Ultimately I am feeling that removing McGinn is better than removing Haller especially with this news that Lanzini has been training and is back. I just don't think Villa look very good in general and will continue to seriously struggle for goals even though McGinn has good underlying numbers and shit I think he's just a bit meh.

Haller has been bad but looks incredible irl eye test and so who knows the fixture is pretty good from an attacking sense maybe I get really lucky here but I will not tell you all any lies... it feels fucking bad to not have Tamela in this moment. I did contemplate a hit to get Tam in but ultimately felt like it had more of a chance to blow up in my face than work out gangbusters so I'm going to just do the one move...float...and check out what is what next gameweek with two frees after UCL and shit. Seems okay...

Who am I kidding? complete nightmare disaster I'm dumb and I hate myself.

GK:

Pope (avl)

Pope remains from GW1 after popping back into the good graces with a clean last week. Still great fixtures and he's great so an easy hold set and forget type of lad. Good boy Pope.

DEF:

Three at the back for me this gameweek in an unusual turn of events for my squadron.

Alexander-Arnold & Robertson (shu)

Trent and R0bbo go to Sheffield United in what should be a clean banker. If Sheffu can only muster two shots against Everton then not expecting fireworks here against Livp. Granted they are home...but still..come on. Get it done here boys...time for another clean.

Otamendi (eve)

Third guy is NicoOta who somehow just threw up a ridiculous haul last game. Maybe the answer is just Dinho in and they'll keep cleaning like we thought they would. Who knows. I don't and I still think (read: know) Ota is a nightmare but at the moment the price is right and the nail is on.

At Everton suddenly seems like a dreamland fixture as they drag their feet until their manager gets the sack lunch. Get in.

MID:

Salah (shu) & Sterling & De Bruyne (eve)

Still on the three big boppers Mo, Raz, and Kevin.

All three great guys, I’m happy to see people selling Raz hope he drops 1m in price he is going nowhere from my team little razzy baby will come back with a vengeance to punish the non believing heathens.

Mo looked really bad and off it last game so hopefully his touch is back and he can do something this weekend.

Mount (BHA)

New boy Mount goes for me and it feels nice to be part of the mounted cavalry division. Nice little fixture run and still a good price. I really want to get in Maddo soon but Mount seems basically the same thing with a bit lower price no knock and better fixtures at least for right now.

Not sure why I'm talking about Maddo here but I am so that's cool.

Cantwell (cry)

Finally, Todd goes to Selhurst in what should be a who knows what the fuck it will be kind of a game. I could see anything from 0-0 snoozefest worst thing of life to a 4-2 barn burner. Either way, I believe in Todd and I love Todd so I'm going to throw him out in the XI for the near term and see how he rolls.

FWD:

Pukki (cry)

Pukki still in of course..good guy still is good.

Haller (bou)

Haller still in as well...yikes. Pretty massively and utterly terrified of not owning Tammy even more so typing this out now so just gotta hope I get away with it. Eek.

CAP:

Sterling (eve)

Raz gets the armband again.

Was chatting about it in Slack just before typing up lambs and the honest truth of the matter is if I twist off Raz cap after all these weeks of mental anguish to see him spike this game at Goodison I would just be completely beside myself with grief.

I don't want that, so I'm going to just stay with the boy and hope he wakes up on the right side of the bed tomorrow and destroys Everton.

—

ALON

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Diop

IN: Tomori

I wavered back and forth on this one because Diop and West Ham have kept three cleans in a row and have really good home bankers coming up and all that good shit.... BUTTTTTTTT... they’re still bad at defending. They really are. The cleans have been nice but felt pretty lucky. They had Manchester United which is arguably best cleansheet fixture in the league and I got my points and so now I’m bailing.

Tomori has almost identical home fixtures to Diop coming up and I’m taking a swing that with Kante back (and Rudiger soon) they are a better team and better defense then West Ham... So in the equal home fixtures I prefer Tomori and then in the aways I feel like West Ham have relatively no chance at a clean (for example this week away to Bournemouth I see them conceding two or three) whereas Tomori and Chelsea away Southampton and away Burnley and away Watford coming up I’m like yeah I could see it, maybe clean one of those if I’m lucky clean two of those? That seems not farfetched to me.

It’s fucking weird buying a defender for a team with no cleans but comparatively to West Ham I think I’m getting in a step ahead here and hopefully it pays me back :)... Come on you Fikayo.

GK:

Gunn (tot)

Spurs are kind of shit but also this is like a 1% chance of a clean for Gunn.

My biggest mistake on Wildcard was not finding the 0.1 somewhere (SEE: MARTIN KELLY) and going Pope over Gunn but honestly I’m just gonna stick by Angus “Gunn to my head” Gunn through these difficult fixtures and just hope he racks up some saves and bones and the odd clean here and there and then their fixtures turn in GW12 and maybe it’ll all be fine.

Maybe.

DEF:

Tomori (BHA)

Good cleanable fixture. Not AMAZING but a solidly good clean shout at home. Come on lad.

Lowton (avl)

Another solid clean shout here.

Away is obviously tougher but Aston Villa struggle to create big chances and with how deep Burnley set up it will be tough to get behind them and counter them... I feel like a defensive howler from Mee or Tarko will be Villa’s best chance of the game. Hopefully it comes clean for me.

Söyüncü (NEW)

The fucking kid. I love Soy so much.

This should be a very straight forward clean. Hopefully Soy doesn’t do something absolutely insane and concede a penno for no reason and it’s just an easy job with bones and shit. Come on SoyyyyyBoyyyyyLadddddd.

MID:

Salah (shu), Sterling & De Bruyne (eve)

Lottttt of aways this week for me which does not feel terrific at all.

Salah is easiest hold ever despite a bit of a slow start underlying numbers.

Raz had his 0 minutes played early doors and should be back in there firing on all cylinders and Kevin requires no words. If ya didn’t jump immediately on Kevin after GW1 or GW2 then we haven’t been watching the same shit and you clearly don’t listen to a word that Walsh and I say so fuck you anyways.

Cantwell (cry)

The aways just keep coming and I don’t like it...

Palace are tough to break down but they’re also WAY worse at home and love nothing more but conceding possession... This will be a really really interesting game to see how Norwich do when they have ~65% of the ball and have to break down the Woy bus factory.

I expect good things but I’m a little nervous.

FWD:

Agüero (eve)

Kun is real good.

Pukki (cry)

Check what I said above about Todd and apply the same down here to Teemu.

Abraham (BHA)

Tammy is putting up gigantic elite numbers and I see no reason why that won’t continue. Outside of Man City Tammy has the best non-penalty expected goals per 90 in the entire league. Ya love to see it.

The one caveat that I have is that Brighton are pretty good.

BHA have middle of the pack defensive numbers despite facing Man City already this season and they just seem solidly like a mid-table maybe top 10 team.

Potter is great and has completely transformed how they set up and play and they’re just good. People thinking that this will be a Chelsea easy walk in the park 4-0 ass fucking I think are very misguided and relying too much on the color of the fixture on the FPL site and not using data, team stats, brains, etc...

CAP:

Agüero (eve)

This did not take me long to sort out. Kun is on fire, City are the best attacking team in the world as usual, and Everton aren’t great. Hopefully Kun hauls in a loss then I’m in dreamland ;)...

It’s a bummer that it’s away but he’s still Kun and can score a hat trick vs. any non-Liverpool opponent away from home. You might call me not a home/away splits believer.

Come on Kun do it baby boy, Everton are ripe for a destruction... And if City score early the fucking pitchforks will be out at Goodison and Silva and the Everton players should crumble under the immense negativity and booing and horribleness.

—

NOT RANDOM SLACKER: DEREK

Fresh off of IRL pod we assigned Lambs this week to the one and only Derek.

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Coleman

IN: Otamendi

Mentioned on the pod, easy transfer: defender on terrible looking Everton team for an attacking City defender with a great fixture run for the same price.

Seamus got me a couple cleans early and had some great chances for a dong but at this moment cannot be more thrilled to take him out of my team.

This was my plan since before last GW.. sucks I missed Ota's absurd game vs. Twatford but regardless, I'm very happy with this pick.

GK:

Pope (avl)

New friend to the team last week brought me a clean sheet. Hoping for the same this week with Villa away.

Burnley has a nice run coming so expecting some cleans from him.

DEF:

Otamendi (eve)

New transfer in.

I don't love him as a defender and we all know he's struggled at times this year but with Dinho seemingly slotted to the LCB position I’m hoping City can stay relatively tight and keep some cleans on this run.

And with Kevin's super precise set piece deliveries so far this year (and all the time when he is healthy and right), I'm expecting Ota to continue to find his head on some of these balls for some more dongs.

Robertson and van Dijk (shu)

Two lads who have been on my team since GW1.

At this point, cleans haven't been plentiful like how I imagined but a goal and two assists from them is still solid and I expect Liverpool to improve on the defensive front. Sheffield should be staying pretty tight in the back at home so this fixture feels very cleanable.

MID:

Sterling and De Bruyne (eve)

Just two guys on the most potent, explosive attacking team in the league. It's time tor Raz to get some returns for the first time since GW3. Yikes.

Salah (shu)

Mo will be Mo and continue to do Mo things AKA return return return. Even having a shitty ass game like last week, he still got me an assist.

Mount (BHA)

I've had the Fat Frank loving youngster since GW3 and he's price risen 6 times since then which is wild but still think he's a great value pick for those who do not have him.

On the year he has 3 goals in 6, constantly finds himself in the box with good chances, and with this great fixture run coming up, I expect him to continue to tick.

FWD:

Pukki (cry)

Palace away doesn't feel great, but Pukki has proven he can score in any fixture so hoping he delivers me one here.

Abraham (BHA)

Coming off a late push at Stamford Bridge last week versus the league leaders, Chelsea should continue with their offensive prowess vs Brighton back at home. Although I don't expect Tammy's absurd finishing efficiency to continue at this rate, his physicality and quickness in the box is here to stay which will continue to yield him good opportunities and big chances.

Plus with up-and-down-the-wing god Marcos A. slotted in at left back with Emerson out, Tammy should be getting some great service in the air. Love having two offensive players from the same team cause the dreams and realization of an assist-dong combo is just the best actual feeling in all of FPL.

Greenwood (ARS)

Taking a chance here going with my other Mason: the 17 year old United striker..feels especially risky with him playing 90' midweek in the cup match.

He has yet to start in a league game this year, but has started in both games outside of the league and has a goal in each of them. With Rashford's groin injury and Martial seemingly dead for eternity (I won't believe he's healthy til I see him on the team sheet), OGS has limited options up top so realllly hoping he gives the kid a chance this week at Old Trafford for his first league start.

From the little I've seen from Greenwood, seems like he is not shy to shoot and with Paul hopefully back maybe the team can progress the ball better and develop some offensive threat again..we shall see.

CAP:

Sterling (eve)

I'm going with Raz for the fifth GW in a row.

We all know what he's capable of..sitting the whole 90' on the bench or scoring a hatty. Hoping for the latter in the away fixture at Goodison cause I think City are gonna have their way with the Toffees. I'd be lying if I said I'm not scared captaining Raz considering he played 70+ minutes midweek in the cup and UCL coming up next week but fuck it.

Weird to see him drop in price two times in a week and seeing some captain polls, kinda feels like a slight differential captain. Vice will be on Mo.

#fml fpl #fmlfpl #fpl #fantasy premier league #premier league #lineup lamentations #soccer #fantasy soccer #football #fantasy football

0 notes

emospritelet · 7 years

Text

Cuckoo’s Flight - 3/6

Last time, Gold showed Belle around the library apartment, neglected to call in at Granny’s for the rent, thereby missing Emma, and offered to make Belle something to eat at his house. Here’s what happened next.

AO3 link

Belle felt a tiny surge of adrenaline as he guided her up the path with a warm hand on the small of her back. The street was empty of people, no one to see her enter, and again she wondered at how safe she felt in his presence, as though she trusted him. He let them inside, and she stepped into a wide hallway, the low, heavy tick of a clock the only sound. Gold turned on the lights, and she blinked, her eyes unused to it. The interior was a dusky pink colour, with a carved wooden banister, the staircase turning on its way up to the next floor.

She wondered if he lived alone, and almost before the thought had formed, she knew it to be true. Surprising, that she could recognise the need to be alone in others, having been so starved for contact herself. Solitude rolled off him in waves, the calm, comfortable loneliness that came from self-imposed isolation. She imagined that he didn’t have close relationships with anyone and it made her wonder why he had chosen to let her in, even to this small extent.

Gold let her through to the kitchen, and her eyes widened as she looked around. The room was clean and modern, a table and four chairs next to the kitchen counters, shining appliances ready and waiting to be used.

“Have a seat,” he said. “I’m going to have a glass of wine. A proper glass, not that swill they serve at the bar. Would you like one?”

She nodded, still looking over the place, and he took a corkscrew from a drawer and a bottle of red wine from the wooden rack between two cupboards. Belle slid into a chair as he opened the wine with a practised twist of his wrist and a dull pop. She watched him pour into two large glasses, the wine flowing in a dark red stream, and she nodded her thanks as he set a glass in front of her. She sniffed at the wine, half-expecting the sourness she had experienced earlier in the bar, but this was very different. It was fruity, rich and heady, and she took a sip, the flavours of blackberries and cherries and a hint of spice bursting on her tongue. This was how she had imagined wine would taste. The heat was there too, warming her, sinking down her throat to spread throughout her body, and she took off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair.

Gold took a sip of his own wine and went to the fridge, rummaging around for a moment before taking out a plastic tub of something and holding it up.

“I made lamb stew a couple of days ago,” he said. “Should be enough for two. It just needs heating through. Is that alright?”

She nodded, trying to remember the taste of lamb. The hospital food was salty and somehow flavourless, eaten with plastic spoons that she had been told were handed out because they couldn’t be used as weapons, not that she remembered ever attacking anyone in her life. She watched as he boiled water in a pan and set a steamer insert on top, chopping potatoes into chunks and dropping them in before putting on a lid. The stew went into another pan, and Gold took a mouthful of wine, stirring with a wooden spoon. The light gleamed on his hair as he worked, and the delicious, savoury scent of rich lamb, garlic and rosemary began to drift into her nose. She had almost forgotten how good food could smell.

There was silence as he moved around the kitchen, other than the clunk of a spoon against the pan, or a mutter from him as he tasted something. She was content to sit back and let him get on with it, too unsure of herself to offer to help, even if she had known what to do. He mashed the seasoned potatoes with butter and milk, and her mouth watered as he set a plate in front of her, cubes of tender meat and vegetables, fragrant with herbs, the rich dark sauce glistening next to the pile of fluffy mashed potatoes. He sat down opposite, refilling their glasses, and took a bite of the lamb, chewing as he watched her. She breathed in the savoury aroma, and he gestured with a fork.

“I haven’t poisoned that,” he said dryly, and she blushed, picking up her cutlery.

The stew was delicious, the meat wonderfully tender, and the first mouthful caused her to make a noise that was almost obscene. He smirked, raising an eyebrow, and she took another bite.

“That’s so good,” she said thickly, and his smile widened.

“Take your time,” he said. “You’re probably not used to it if you’ve been in the hospital for a while.”

She thought he was right, and so she tried to slow her pace, but she still cleared her plate before he did. She offered to clear up when they were finished, but he had a dishwasher, and so she found herself being escorted through to a comfortable lounge, filled with antique furniture, a fire burning low in the grate and a clock ticking on the wall. There were bookshelves stuffed full, and she itched to study them, but he gestured to the couch, and she sat down, hands cradling her wineglass, the alcohol just starting to go to her head a little. There was an oak china cabinet in the alcove near the bay window, its shelves filled with porcelain vases and decorative plates, and she ran her eyes over what looked like part of an old tea set. A pot and two cups and saucers, white with a delicate blue flower pattern. One cup had a chip in the rim, and she was surprised that it was on show. Gold put some more wood on the fire, tiny flames licking hungrily around the logs as he lowered himself onto the couch next to her.

“You have such nice things,” she said, looking around, and he shrugged.

“I’m a dealer in antiquities,” he said. “I own a shop in town, and a lot of the pieces that aren’t there are kept here. I like beautiful objects, you see. Precious things. Sometimes I even plan to let them go, and yet they end up staying.”

“If you enjoy them, and they make you happy, there’s nothing wrong with that,” she said. “I think - I think that it would be worse to keep them locked away, don’t you? To hide them away where no one else can see them.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “Yes, I think that would be a terrible tragedy.”

He sipped his wine, watching her over the rim of his glass. The fire crackled and snapped, warm reddish light flickering over his face and highlighting his cheekbones. She felt that low-down tug again, and licked her lips. He was still staring at her, but then he looked away.

“We can go over the rental agreement in the morning,” he said. “You’ll need a job if you want to pay rent and feed yourself. Any thoughts?”

“I - no.” She looked down at her glass, the wine rippling. “I hadn’t thought. But - but I’m sure I could find something! If - well, if…”

“If Dr Hopper doesn’t decide that he regrets his decision to let you go,” he finished, and she cringed a little. There was silence for a moment. She could see his fingers drumming slowly on the side of his glass.

“I take it you’re literate,” he said. “Numerate? Could you do stock-taking, for example?”

She looked up.

“Oh, yes!” she said eagerly. “I learned to read when I was three! And I used to help my father with his business, before - well, before I went to the hospital. I’m sure I could pick things up quickly, if there’s a job out there.”

He nodded.

“I might be able to find you something,” he said. “We can discuss it in the morning. You must be tired.”

She was too nervous to be tired, but he drained his glass and stood up, shifting the cane to keep his balance.

“I’ll show you to your room,” he said, and she blinked.

“My - my room?” she asked, her voice suddenly high and anxious.

“Well, the apartment isn’t fit for sleeping in tonight, and I wasn’t about to let you sleep on the couch,” he said dryly. “I assure you that I have no evil intent, Miss Longbourn. You’re quite safe here.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean…” She snapped her mouth shut, and he looked amused. “I wasn’t - you’ve been very kind,” she added lamely.

“Yes, well, don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to maintain.” He put his head to the side. “Are you done with the wine, or would you like a little more?”

“I - no, no thank you.”

She drained her glass, setting it on the coffee table, and stood up. Gold nodded.

“This way,” he said, and walked out, mounting the stairs. She followed him up to the landing, and he paused outside a door, opening it up and switching on a light.

“The spare room,” he said. “I can give you something to wear. Bathroom’s across the landing. You can shower, if you like.”

Belle stepped inside, looking around. It was a spacious, pleasant room a bay window looking out on the dark woods behind. A large, heavy wooden bed with carved posts was made up with white sheets, a red blanket over the top. She glanced across at him.

“What about you?” she asked, and he looked at her steadily.

“My room’s at the end,” he said. “I have an en-suite, so I won’t need to disturb you.”

“Thank you,” she said. “For everything. You didn’t have to help me.”

“I know.”

“So…” She floundered, unsure what she wanted to say. “I mean, don’t think I’m not grateful, I just don’t understand why. Why you would.”

Gold hesitated, and if it had been anyone else she would have thought he seemed unsure of himself. It was the first time she had seen him look uncertain.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It just…” He lifted a hand, twisting his fingers before letting his arm fall again, his mouth flattening.

“...feels right,” she finished, and he nodded, his eyes flicking back to hers.

“Yes.”

There was silence again, and she could feel a strange, heavy atmosphere building, as though a storm was coming. As though sparks were dancing in the air around them, crackling over her skin, the tension stealing her breath. Gold blinked, looking away and breaking the spell.

“Let me get you something to wear,” he said quietly, and walked out, leaving her with flushed cheeks and a dry mouth and unfamiliar, rising desire.

He brought her a T-shirt, and a pair of blue plaid cotton pants, and she held them in her hands for a moment, unsure what to do. Gold looked hesitant, his fingers opening and closing around the handle of his cane.

“Right,” he said. “Well, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Sleep well, Miss Longbourn.”

She was beginning to regret giving him a false name. It sounded strange and jarring in her ears, and she wanted to hear him speak her true name, to hear his mouth caress it and let it fall from his tongue. She nodded mutely, and he turned on his heel, leaving her alone.

“Goodnight!” she called, after he had gone, and hoped he had heard.

Putting the clothes on the bed, she decided to take a shower, and so she went into the bathroom and locked the door. The shower gel smelled of herbs, clean and fresh, and it felt good to stand under the torrent of hot water and scrub the hospital from her skin. She washed her hair too, fingers scraping at her scalp until her skin tingled, and by the time she got out and wrapped herself in thick grey towels, she felt much better.

The house was quiet when she opened the door and peered into the corridor, and she hurried back to her room and shut the door, using the towels to dry her hair before pulling on the T-shirt and pants. There was a brush in the drawer of the dresser, and she sat in front of the mirror, untangling her hair with careful strokes until it was soft and shining. She watched her reflection, her eyes dark in the lamplight, her belly still tight with that crawling, tugging feeling. She set down the brush, taking a deep breath and telling herself to get a grip. It was excitement at being freed, at being out in the world again. The surge of attraction for Gold was her body’s response to someone showing her kindness, when all she could remember from the staff at the asylum was at best indifference, and at worst cruelty. But Gold had been kind. He had saved her from the unwanted attentions of Keith, and had given her food and wine and a safe place to stay. It was natural that she would respond to that. It meant nothing.

She flicked off the light, getting in between the cool cotton sheets of the bed, and lay back with her hands behind her head, trying to relax. Her skin was humming, her heart thudding in her chest, and after ten minutes or so she threw back the covers with a sigh. He had books. Perhaps she could lose herself in one of those and take her mind off his eyes and his tiny smiles and the way his hands moved.

She slipped out of bed, opening the bedroom door as quietly as she could and padding downstairs. The lamps were still lit, and for a moment she paused on her toes, wondering where he was. She heard nothing, though, and so she continued on her way, feet silent on the wooden floors. The fire in the lounge had burnt down, the embers glowing red, and the room was empty, so she trotted over to the bookshelves, running her eyes over what was stacked there. He had a mix of classic and modern authors, Shakespeare, poetry, and even non-fiction books on history and politics. She mouthed the titles, finger stroking over the spines and hooking over the top of a leather-bound book of fairy tales. It came free from the surrounding books with a low, whispery sound.

“There are more in my study.”

Gold’s voice made her jump, and she dropped the book. It landed between her feet with a dull thump, and she dropped to her knees just as he did, their hands reaching for it and touching briefly before jerking back. Her heart was pounding, her breath coming hard in her throat, and she licked her lips. He had taken off his tie and unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt, and she ran her eyes up his chest and over the warm skin of his throat. His pulse throbbed beneath his skin, and she felt an urge to lick it, to run her tongue over him and feel the scrape of new stubble against her. She raised her eyes to his, and they were fathom-deep, ocean-deep, dark as the night and filled with a hunger that made her breathless.

“I’m sorry if I startled you, Miss Longbourn,” he said quietly, and she noticed that his accent had thickened a little. She wondered what he was doing here, so far from home. Perhaps he felt as lost and lonely as she. The thought made her want to be honest with him, to strip herself bare and hold nothing back.

“My - my name’s not Lacey Longbourn,” she whispered, and he smiled.

“Yes, I know.”

“You know?” She frowned at him, and his grin widened, the gold tooth gleaming.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said softly, and she dropped her eyes.

“Oh.”

“Which is no bad thing, really,” he added. “Besides, I presumed you had your own reasons for using a false name.”

“Yeah.” She looked up again. “I - I wasn’t sure if I could trust you at first.”

He gave her a wry smile.

“Well, given my reputation in this town, I won’t bother telling you that you can,” he said. “But I certainly mean you no harm.”

“I believe you,” she said truthfully, and his lips twitched.

He reached out, his hand brushing over her cheek, thumb stroking over her lower lip, and she sucked in a breath, his touch burning her. He pulled back immediately, eyes widening.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m - I’m sorry, I have no idea why I just did that.”

Looking discomfited, he straightened up, holding out a hand to help her to her feet, and Belle clutched the book to her chest. He was having difficulty in making eye contact with her again, and she ached to reassure him, to tell him that she had wanted him to touch her. Her tongue seemed to have swollen and stuck to the roof of her mouth, and she tried to peel it free.

“So.” He grounded his cane, his eyes flicking across to her before looking away again. “What’s your name?”

“Belle,” she said. “Belle French.”

“You’re Moe French’s daughter?” His voice had hardened a little. “I see. I thought he was an unreliable tenant, I didn’t realise he’d locked away his own child.”

She bowed her head, hunching her shoulders a little, and he clicked his tongue.

“Still, none of my business,” he said. “Enjoy the book, Miss French, and feel free to borrow as many as you like.”

“Thank you.” She hugged the book a little tighter. “Goodnight, Mr Gold.”

She took one step away from him, then another, and then it was easier to move, to breathe. Heart thumping, she hurried upstairs, pushing her bedroom door shut with a click and leaning back against it for a moment to compose herself. He touched me. Touched my cheek like I was beautiful and precious. Touched my lip like he wanted to kiss me.

Sucking in a breath, she pushed away from the door, turning on the bedside lamp and getting back into bed with her book. Half an hour later, she heard him come up the stairs, the tap of his cane on the wooden treads somehow comforting. Floorboards squeaked a little as he passed her door on the way to his own room, and for a moment she sat with her hands on the pages of the book, listening. He didn’t pass by again, and she assumed that he had gone to bed.

As beautifully-illustrated as the book was, she couldn’t concentrate on it. The stories of princesses sighing over dashing rescuers didn’t hold her interest, and she found herself drawn to darker tales of cunning sorcerers and dark magic. That only made her think of Gold, for reasons she couldn’t explain, and so eventually she put the book aside, hoping to sleep. Darkness closed in on her when she turned off the light, and she lay there, listening to the sound of her breathing and wondering if he was also awake. He had touched her. He had been surprised by wanting to, as though it was something he couldn’t explain. As though he was drawn to her, as she was to him.

Shaking her head, she threw back the covers for the second time that evening, and bounced out of bed, her breathing unsteady. Do the brave thing. The worst that could happen was that she would make a fool of herself, but she had spent years with everyone around her telling her she was mad. Embarrassment didn’t have the same effect as it once might have.

Mind made up, she opened the bedroom door, staring down the darkened corridor to the door at the end. His room. The first step was hesitant, but she kept going, toes splaying on the cool wood. Her hand shook a little as she reached for the handle, but she turned it and pushed open the door into darkness.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #fic: cuckoo's flight

35 notes · View notes

beescream · 8 years

Text

For @scenitroute! I was your Secret Santa @undertalesecretsanta this year, and I hope you like what I wrote for you - happy new year, too! Eta: when i moved this over from my fic editor it deleted all of my italics! Pls dont reblog this til i fix it :( im at work but i will do it asap.

Eta2: fixed it!

“You know,” Papyrus remarked, absently stirring his tea as he gazed out at the sleet battering the road outside, “in all the books underground, when they show pictures of Spring, usually it looks.. greener. And less, you know, generally awful.”

From across the room, Sans hummed agreement and turned another page of the heavy paperback book he was cradling.

“I think that Fluffy Bunny might have been a little idealistic, Sans.”

“Surely not, bro.”

“I’m afraid so, Sans. I think the author of Fluffy Bunny may have been misled, somehow. Or lived somewhere less… abysmal.”

Sans looked up.

“You gotta remember, bro, it’s only mid-January. It’s not Spring yet. Maybe it’ll get better then?”

Papyrus turned away from the dismal view to squint at Sans, head tilting as if he was attempting to get water out of the ears he didn’t have.

“But we have celebrated Christmas, Sans! As you and I are both aware, the next season after Christmas is Spring, and as we left Christmas behind in December, along with the New Year - one of them, at least - that logically means that we are now in Spring.”

Sans’ vision tracked him as he paced across the living room of their new property. Three months was not long enough to make it feel like home, but it was getting there. He’d even managed to get Sans to promise to pick up any socks he left downstairs, and help with chores. His brother had even begun to wear other clothes - as had Papyrus! Human fashion was myriad and fascinating, and even a little intimidating at times, but that hadn’t stopped him from joining with his friends and the human for their first ever shopping trip.

Papyrus found his mind wandering back to the day he’d spent with his friends (friends! He had friends!), digging through boxes of clothes in charity shops, perusing the racks at department stores, being gazed at by many, many humans who were no doubt fascinated by his pearly white bones. Since moving up to the surface he’d read a little more about humans (to be polite) and found that humans also contained skeletons! Possibly they were related somehow, but no doubt it explained why he and his brother often got such strong reactions.

“Papyrus..?”

Papyrus’ head turned sharply to look at his brother, who appeared somewhat amused.

“Been calling you for a couple minutes. Here.”

“Don’t, Sans- augh!”

He reached out and snatched the mobile phone Sans had so carelessly tossed in his direction out of the air.

“One day you’ll break this, you know.”

“I know you’ll catch it.”

Sans shrugged, face already back in his book. Papyrus could see the glossy pages from where he stood, emblazoned with stars. He wasn’t sure why his brother loved them so much, but if it made him happy..

He looked at the phone’s screen.

“Spring,” it said, “is one of the four seasons. This year, Spring begins on the first of March, and ends on the thirty-first of May.”

The article then went on to talk about other seasons. Papyrus backed out of the article and searched again, this time more generally, for “Spring”. Once more he was displayed pictures of sun, blue skies, green grass, and lambs (apparently essential, for a proper Spring.There were also some coiled pieces of metal, although he discounted those). He scrolled through the results and frowned.

“Do humans only clean at one time of the year?”

“Uhh.. don’t think so. Why?”

“There are all these articles about Spring Cleaning.. I really hope our human acquaintances are more sanitary than these ladies. Brenda says she does her best cleaning in Spring.. Well, Brenda, maybe your cleaning would be better if you practised it year-round!”

“You tell her, bro.”

Papyrus looked around. All this talk of cleaning was making him feel antsy. His gaze alit on the tree.

“Don’t you think it’s about time we got rid of that, Sans? It sheds everywhere, and the dog is bad enough without pine needles, too.”

“I thought we were gonna wait ‘til February? If you wanna toss it, go for it. Means you don’t have to vacuum every hour, anyway.”

Papyrus privately thought saying he vacuumed every hour was unfair. It was every two hours, maybe every hour and a half if the tree was being particularly shed-y. It would be nice to have that time back.. And Sans would probably appreciate it, not being woken every few hours through the night.

“I’ll take it down to the dump,” he decided, “do you want to come, Sans?”

“I’m good, thanks, bro. But maybe Undyne would want to? You haven’t seen her in a couple of days. And you could, you know. Talk to her about.. That Thing.”

Papyrus nodded. He really did need to discuss That with her. This would be a trip to the dump with purpose!

—

An hour and a half later, and many, many needles down his shirt, in his socks, and one particularly awful introduction of a branch into his eyesocket, he was ready to go. Glaring at the tree, wrapped in a dirty sheet from Sans’ bed to stop needles from covering his car’s back seat, he slammed the door and winced as he heard the pot hit the door. Hopefully it wouldn’t leave a mark..

“Hugkh-”

“Hey, dude!”

Papyrus wheezed from beneath Undyne, air having been knocked out of him at her forceful greeting.

“Trip to the dump, huh? I am all over that! Do you think it’ll be much different from the one we had, you know, down there?”

Papyrus indicated he had no idea. Then, rather more forcefully, he indicated he’d quite like to get up, please.

“Ha! That’s so like you, Papyrus. Polite to a fault, even when your face is getting mashed into the rocks!”

She heaved him upright and left him to brush himself off, instead gazing in the windows of the car.

“Thanks for inviting me out, today, by the way! I was feeling kinda… cooped up. A trip to the dump is just what the doctor ordered! Not that I’ve been at the doctor. Or anyone has been to the doctor recently.”

He glanced at her, still picking pine needles off his skort, and watched her fidget. Her bulky coat hid her hands, but he could tell she was getting twitchy.

“Anyway!”

He sighed. It would be one of those trips.

—

The weight of the tree in the back made the car drive strangely, especially in sleet. He found himself slowing down even more than he would normally, taking corners carefully, giving himself more stopping time. Undyne sighed every time he tapped the brakes, practically bouncing in her seat. She flicked between stations on the radio, not allowing a single second of adverts to make it past her ears. Eventually it hit noon, and the news came on.

“Stop,” he said, “at least let’s listen to the headlines.”

“Ugh. It’s boring..”

..nother casualty of the riots in the downtown area was taken to hospital late last night. Police are appealing for any witnesses to come forward.

Further to the news that more monsters are planning the move from Underground, a speaker from the local anti-monster group made a statement this morning that the group is planning another protest in a few weeks time. A reply from the local monster advocacy groups is not yet forthcoming.

“This sucks,” said Undyne, stabbing a finger sharply into the power button. Papyrus didn’t stop her. He may not have had a stomach, but that didn’t stop the tight, cold feeling he got when he thought about the protests. “I feel like no matter what we do nothing happens, like it’s always gonna be this way! No matter what, monsters are always gonna be protested against and, I dunno, shunned.”

“It won’t be forever,” he said, far more confidently than he felt, “the good humans outnumber the bad! One day they’ll realise we’re just like them, except far more handsome, of course.”

Undyne sighed.

“Yeah. I met some pretty cool people when Alphys took me along to the meet on Friday. Obviously we didn’t go to the march, but maybe someday in the future. I’ve been working on shields - passive ones, you know? Not just the one you get with a spear. I dunno. It’d be nice to be able to protect th- myself. And Alphys, obviously, and anyone else who needs protecting, but mostly me and Alph, you know, not-”

“We’re here,” he said, interrupting her before she got totally wound up, and guided the car into the wide area at the entrance to the dump.

“Great!”

“No-”

Too late. She was already out of the car, stumbling out into the sleet with the car still moving. He sighed and braked. Handbrake on, he dug through the glove compartment for his wallet. He didn’t know if he had to pay for use of the dump or not, but he wouldn’t be caught empty-handed! Or empty-pocketed, as it were. He tucked the wallet into his jacket and joined Undyne outside.

She jostled him with her shoulder.

“So! What’s the plan? We gonna just… javelin this thing into the centre of this place? If we got a decent run-up, we could make it pretty far. Or put it on the roof of the car, and drive really fast, then brake-”

“I was thinking more like taking it over there,” he said mildly, pointing at the sign that read ‘XMas TREE DisPOSaL’ in thick black marker.

Undyne shook a layer of sleet off her hood.

“That’s fair. Boring, but fair.”

They opened the car door and gazed in at the ghostly white-wrapped tree.

“I’ll take this end,” announced Undyne, and gripped the base of the tree, tugging hard. The tree shuddered - then the pot slid off the end, sending her stumbling back with a yelp. Darting forward, Papyrus caught her barely before she hit the ground, hearing a faint clonk of the pot landing somewhere in the distance.

They awkwardly righted themselves.

“Right,” said Undyne. “Right.”

Papyrus stepped back. He recognised that particular tone.

“Don’t hurt my car, please,” he said.

“I won’t. I’m just gonna carry that WHOLE TREE over to the disposal area ALONE,” growled Undyne, striding over confidently.

“Okay!”

“Rrrrrrraghh!”

Undyne hefted the tree over her head. It looked very impressive, Papyrus thought, or it would have if the sheet hadn’t halfway unravelled to lie damply over her face.

“Do you want me to-”

“Aaaaaaaugh!!”

“Okay.”

She ran, full tilt, across the car park, blindly. If he was being generous, he could have said it was towards the vicinity of the sign. Closing the car doors - and silently promising his poor car a proper cleaning later - he set off. Papyrus to the rescue! The rescue of whoever encountered Undyne, that was, of course. Undyne would never need to be rescued.

He found her face first in a fence.

“How’s the trip to the tree disposal area going, Undyne?”

“Great.”

“I see.”

He leaned against the fence. He still couldn’t see her face. Perhaps now, with little chance of eye contact, was a good time to bring up the Thing.

“Do you, maybe, have something to tell me, Undyne?”

“No,” she said immediately.

“Of course not. If you turn ninety degrees to your left, you’ll be headed in the right direction, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

He waited until the next crash to catch up with her.

“Okay, so, when I said you’d be headed in the right direction, that wasn’t an instruction to run directly into the sign without stopping, but at least we’re here now. You can put the tree down over there- no. No, not there, either. Left a bit - bit more- stop! Right a bit. Stop. Step back a little then toss the tree gently forwards and up. I’d say.. Maybe at an eighth of your full strength.”

The tree made a surprisingly soft shuff as it was deposited neatly at the top of the pile. Undyne struggled out of the sheet to survey their handiwork with a grin.

“Nice! We should do something like this again sometime, except, you know, with more rules and less fences. And trees,” she added, reaching into her ear to pick out a pine needle.

“Yes,” he agreed, “it was certainly an interesting experiment. Although maybe next time we could also do it when it’s not sleeting outside. Maybe… sometime in Spring?”

“Sounds good.”

They got back into the car, Papyrus waving cheerfully at the security camera he spotted on the way.

“I might go back home the long way,” he said to Undyne, “the weather is clearing up - look.”

Where he pointed to, a patch of blue could be seen between the clouds.

“Hey, nice! Spring’s just around the corner, huh?”

“Actually it’s not til March the first,” he corrected her, turning onto another street.

“Huh. Didn’t know that.”

“Neither did I, til this morning.”

He eyed her out the corner of his eye. Still looking distracted.

“I know that it may sound like an utter falsehood,” he continued, “but there are actually some things I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but I can’t claim to know something if people don’t tell me. That would be mindreading, and while I am a skeleton of many talents, telepathy is not one of them.”

“Uh-huh.”

She was going to try to avoid it, then. Papyrus internally shook his head, then externally shook his head, too, for good measure. Time to pull out all the stops.

“Undyne.”

“Yep.”

“I know you have something to say to me. I also know that you are too scared to tell me. Frankly I can understand this - I am an awesome and frankly inspiring sight, however, we’re friends! And friends should always be able to tell each other the truth, right?”

That ought to do it, he decided. She was cracking, he could tell.

“Papyrus.. listen-”

It was a good thing the street was deserted, because when he heard her speak, he slammed on the brakes.

“Undyne!”

“Don’t,” she said, “augh, don’t, Papyrus, I’m fine!”

“You’re crying! You are not fine! What do I do? What DID I do? Oh my god, I’m the worst friend ever-”

“-no you’re not, I’m the worst, it’s ME, Papyrus - don’t you start crying too, you can’t drive if you’re blubbing, Papyrus, come on-”

He swallowed, feeling her scrub roughly at his maxilla, her thumbs wiping away the ‘tears’ of magic created by his distress.

“Sorry,” she grunted, snuffling a little, “it’s just- ugh, you’re dry, just drive, I gotta think about this, I dunno what I’m gonna say. Gimme five minutes.”

“Alright. But I’ll be counting!”

The streets began to peel by again, grey and unappealing for the most part - and then there would be a flash of colour from leftover decorations, or, rarely, from more recent ones for the Chinese New Year. He scanned the horizon, looking for birds (still a novelty, to see them so high up in the sky and moving. Birds underground didn’t fly.)

Undyne coughed.

“It’s been five minutes,” she said, “so. I’m just gonna.. Go. I’m just gonna say it.”

Papyrus raised his eyebrows expectantly after a moment.

“Are you?”

“Ngahh! Yes! I! AM!”

He watched her fist bounce off the dashboard. Hopefully no dents would be left behind. Plastic was a pain to fix.

“Alphys! Is! Pregnant! ..Maybe!”

He pulled over. He exited the car. He pulled her out of the car. He embraced her.

Then he got back into the car. After a moment, so did she.

“Uhh. So. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but.. It’s scary, you know?”

He nodded.

“But.. depending on how the next couple of checkups go, we’ll know if we’re really gonna have a kid. Or kids, seeing as both her family and mine tend towards multiples. We might end up with an ARMY! Haha!”

Undyne was gesturing wildly, far more animated now than before.

“We’re gonna have to think of names, and buy clothes, and teach them to walk and talk, and all that stuff! Real parent stuff! Real, you know, couple stuff! Which is also scary! Not that I’m scared!”

Papyrus nodded, letting it flow over him. He’d finally gotten her to open up. Emotional-Undyne crisis had been averted. Now he just had to clean his car..

Roll on March 1st. Spring Cleaning could never be this hard, right?

#secret santa #undertale secret santa #undertale #my fic #undyne #papyrus #sans #sorry about any typos and weird scanning it is not beta-read

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glopratchet · 4 years

Text

retirement-home

a computer program that is attached to the conciousness of astryl wylde, and there are a lot of them so you can't really escape it You see a few bodies floating in it to burst out There are large pieces of bloody meat hanging from the trees that glisten invitingly in the sunlight burning the night away Souls trapped within scream as fire burns them continually never letting them die of new retirement villas is in progress A foreman is bullying the skeletal workers to work harder patrol the trees nearby, Waiting inside the cyber designer's, which burns the night away with bright light flicker excitedly, displaying messages that they cannot read Chainsaws grind and buzz destroying those who are against progress are kept here, charging towards the enemy and ripping them apart Training encourages confusion and chaos the removes their ability to think rationally and fire their weapons accurately intended to turn the law of nature against itself to cause issues like overpopulation and unemployment are kept her in them Manufactured situations cause issues for profit and prostitutes try to entice people into their parlors They are either beautiful or grotesque Loyal soldiers, strong and sure brainwashed by demonic entities that ensure they act appropriately when defending the realm of astokahn against its enemies Every other choice is simply not discussed 's gaming hall bubbles excitedly around a lucky gambler who's just won the lottery who's just had all his limbs replaced with robotic ones to ensure that he can perform better The new limbs buzz to life as he gets to work non-stop through the halls, keeping everyone under surveillance and ensuring that all enemies of the realm are found ensure the traitors are kept out, traitors that have misguided loyalties to any other nation or power his neck, preparing to go on a night of brutal tortures and non-stop executions to keep the population down -filled bins storing blood, ready to be drained and drunk by vampires ensuring that the young and old are cared for, indoctrinated, and ready for death -soldiers, experimented on and cybernetically enhanced before being sent onto the battlefield willingly, their minds replaced with a loyal hound's that wants nothing more than ensuring the best results in creating nice and creamy and soft cheese from the milk, ready for consumption by vampires of various types that couldn't care less about the source the streets keeping the town alive, breathing and beating and being full of life A single pair of dogtags hang from a rack, each covered in enamel and churns, making sure the damned keep spinning as they head to their fiery doom Lights gleaming the night away, keeping watch over the work of the New shimmering with heat, making sure that the workers don't overheat and die in trials by oppressive heat Doppelganger is sitting at a table trying to keeps a close eye on the experiments in order to ensure that excessive waste is not created and that all goes according to plan makes sure that the wastrlines between genders and biological age are all uncrossed to prevent confusion and issues during breeding seasons and expanding population Splatter is drowning owns the factory, ensuring that the pretty plants are kept around to keep calm keeps a close-knit eye on the demons, remembered as their to ensure they don't rebel the doctors, keeping a watchful eye that none slip through the cracks and end up useless or, worse, psychopathic ensures the damned keep turning the wheels that keep the New running Gorazhel runs a hamlet, seeking to exploit the resources the roles of those who have been converted to the cause and ensure that they act correctly in their fake lives, never revealing themselves ensures that all who question things are branded heretics that get sent to the realm of fire for eternal torture and pain the happy and loyal families, ensuring that the breeding program can be extended to many generations Catalyst making sure that all are kept happy and safe by encouraging ignorance and keeping the demons on the verge of laughter, their goal is to make the worse things in life seem not so bad and them like it that way CAUSE YOU their teeth behind braces ensuring that the young and the factory-fresh are ready to receive the wisdom of the Old and the Love of the Creator You are comfort in is running most of night affairs, as nowadays more work better in the night and he takes care that they get things their way Gravedigger is helping at the is most important at a place like this, and thus a large crew of Creations ensure that the factories can run without stopping Daybreak making sure dawn never comes the size of small cities rise and Stumble forward, shaking the very earth with every step many-legged Creations roll about like great wyrms with hundreds of scrawny legs, crushing and caring all before them Tanks covered in armor at the opening of genetic waste dumping site Blood-soaked abattoir that sends dead herds of humans and other Creations to be ground up into their resources of gas fill up to signal the next day's end Spirits rise up through once- spectral pipes and waterways, humming giggling rising up to and kids send the human herd to be processed for meat, smiling on their way like lambs to the slaughter The Eyes are watching Barbed wires fence off slave away, filling fat human's skins with meat to be sold is available at trauma centres across the street and beyond; survivors can weep, share their feelings and get better Some windmills and waterwheels run to ensure mix drinks scrawled on recipe scrolls tens of thousands of years old to make the humans like they used to, back in the light days Constant coverage with multiple contests ensure raw nutrition to make the humans strong Breeding-farms make sure there's a constant supply of humans ready for food s attract the young with booze, gambling and likely prey Diet-doctors work on making sure the food is healthy and nutritious without tasting terrible -houses provide resting places for humans and Creations on their long, toilsome work offering pie, cake and candy to weary travellers and Creations alike Armsterdard sending out crews to scout the land for survivors or corpses for the week beqeaves you the horrors of wales and ruins outside, instead you're plunged into happy, colourful dreams beyondall understanding seeking out pesky limbs and digits and gruesomely horror the bad Creations THEY KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER! tubes from the tooth factory packed with perfume soluble paper for the traveller Deep, you live underwater in a dome full of air, sunlight and incredible technology offering rides on armoured horses while the cars are off All manner of weapons from the ancients' final war; destructive, brutal, sharp, tearing, piercing and teacher , carer and herd-keeper for young humans and Creations Watering the humans on thier way Our pinup girl stands guard over the distracting the humans with her svelte gyrations, decorative dances and rhythmic movements at every opportunity leading to and fro beneath the luxurious city to the chaos of destruction needs no payment! on armor and weapons cause wounds to be protracted, before sending in more Creations and their brutal kind Glorious fields of sunflowers fatherly and motherly the paterfamilias running this Domus assure that his charges are well clothed, nourished and loved Lashes lashing -deprived eyes drying out Clothed in a wetsuit, coral necklace and head mirror Loud claimers oozing ichor creeping up, hobbling with a staff made of a twisted human spine Calming and silenceing the unquiet dead to send to endless slumber Unobe descending down brightly coloured acient buildings with nothing but clever drawings as support all around of unthinking mass Going to wake ups and blackouts, the blinking between sleeping and waking leaves you vulnerable of wind tearing at fabric and skin, sand burning like embers Waterskins abandoned on the crossbelts to prevent awkwardness, someone left a 5- machines pumping blood, AA batteries powering the hospital and its gemlights A horrified scream not directed at youus to prolong life, removing evil or sending the victims into pot-induced dreams Books seeking to awaken something in you that's been lost with modern lifestyle Tacious stadium where fast ones win and the slow ones become crabsticks Happy, ignorant, kindhearted souls believing everything they're told and loving their neighbors Bunkhouses for ravenous hordes under the banner of a madman, growing fat and strong off the toil and labour of others Giant idols and for the dead willing to serve a totalitarian government without knowing what they're signing up to laced with devilish, sinister sounds to corrupt the mind and stunt its progression Never-ending farms surrounding the dome under perpetual lightning storms Tridents and nets for for starfish, pillows for pigs and sheep, duvets for humans Designed to drag humans down to the depths plundered from raiders, pirates and other failing city states Tiny for the young ones among us Stupidly large for the Adults! vehicles dot the landscape, as do dying trees, empty food tins and class-chips form the long abandoned road next to it screens removing sleep and perfect sunlight to keep the slaves working spiders removing the orb and adding manacles and Elaborate tattoos to the enthusiastic al schemes claiming to be justice whilst being utterly horrific, manipulative and murderous Soft skulls filled with mush perfect for drilling tunnels though the mountain claiming freedom as they steal from their neighbours, slaughtering yearlings and keeping slaves oxytocin, endorphins and dopamine released for the enjoyment of the "winner" Awe to those who seek to best the harsh world of the old and new World, bringing drilling machines, immortality and slavery to the innocent knives, rusty megaphones and sawed-off shotguns Dungeons, dungeons and more dungeons taps pouring pure ichor into unwary containers Banners of the WorldGuard rainged everywhere, preparing for total war talk of the saint arriving with many weapons and armor Murky green liquid bribing guards to let prisoners go of unbelievable Gods working on humans, sub-humans and poor, idiotic animals that we, the raiders, should worship the World -proof crucifixes and necklaces, made to tame humans ideology spouting perfect harmony with nature Cultists in the bed, the bathroom and even one in the car farms lacking the essence Reckless burning of it to keep warm causing global strife on the holiness of non-necessities to prepare for the priests to beg for coin guards to keep wall up for perfect peace Ginormous drill-ships blocking out the sun to find Petroleum for the generators drones bringing a new miracle drug for camp happiness 88 GLYPHS Secondary nutrients replaced with primary nutrients for the dumbest of the humans comforting the tarter crusted MouthBreathers Embedded uniforms uniting the many warriors that the raiders have plundered Random global conflict for stupid and sapphires placed on a sweaty chest as the tatuoed man penetrates his fair lover harnessing the wind for energy saving longboards dowsing for water to drink Brilliant masts watching for tsunamis, pirates and other traps at sea handling the virus ridden insects to further ruin nature Tracksuits teaching exercise to humans and mutations Boots marching everywhere and slimes to scare off the primitive sub-humans Train-robbing barbarians from long ago, now used for new cities and stations lending importance to Unnamed forces of ill intent against the World Mining operations implanted in all captured areas to pump out RepoMan goods hated by all organ sucking anomalies for perfect com to the brains Sunglasses protecting $ personality with menace and intrigue working as manual labor for the big &*@! S coming to drill The ceiling built high to keep the Repo Men out working for the rising water levels Snipers aiming at perfectly good statues Other murals keeping intricate facts of their history spotted throughout the city perfection allowing the World raiders to display their Baseball bats smashing the skulls of blasphemous heretics airships destroying the landscape forever Over-sized missile silos placed for no apparent reason tweaking designs to make the perfectly sunny landscape Excess corpses incinerated with moronic dissidents specialists perfecting complex rituals involving bulls Blood-thirsty swords thirsty for blood treated like resources lower than corporations ever could A large bright light appearing on a nearby bench to entrap human life-force poisoning the mind of a decadent heretic lying out on the grass Happiness operations uplifting dumb nuclear families jumping up and down when World raiders arrive with happy toys from elsewhere Queers injecting hormones and chemicals to ruin perfectly good bodies of raiders Stimmed pants brightening up a perfectly good pair of $ trousers Perfectly good food types force-fed to the lazy and unemployed zones making the humans stronger with pliable muscle and bone growth Psychic-vampires sucking out the happiness inside a man keeping the most elite humans alive that aren't raiders with explosive pincers injecting poison Black people sterilized and kept prisoner for Repo-men to gas used as future Fungus-men break down useless herbivores Green people literally kept forever and ever as eternal slaves for the raiders -diving past-humans keeping the lowly mutant filth species thriving attracting more debt-mongrels into the World Zombie-heroin injected directly into a vein to keep the users docile buggies racing across the sand to nowhere in particular Flower arrangements throwing off pleasant smells to keep krill bussiness-mammals complacent jackets keeping mutants warm in winter and cool in summer Animated gifs swirling around everywhere to keep humans duplicitous shined boots marching over the poor oppressed majority Blow-up Dolls used to release sexual frustration during winter months to keep kidnapped humans in their place Brandings from Raiders leave scars and stories Shamans treating lesions caused by exposure to sun all day academics studying literature for the World Tycoons treating slaves like human beings, whatever that means -slaves studying animals in the wild to supply zookeepers Break-dancers putting on a show for people too busy working rich people food for fun visible as Cyberdwarf societies follow a devastating trend Decadent servants throwing lavish dinner parties for the vain elite -experimenting scientists toying with genes Caged slaves waiting for release, whenever that will be experiments to produce results for the filthy techs Marskmango-dewaxers to keep morons happy with moronic television and gizmos to avoid acid lakes or to prevent exposing wood-life to the sun to both enjoy the ride and not lose coaster points Here you must wait unmoving for the ride to finish, because an attack could be devastating to your body: either blood will be pulled from your head, or the force of acceleration will cause you to black out again, another thing to survive through, if impact is too harsh then you will jave to survive re-entry and wait out the scorching sun until you guarantees return to the same planet With seat-belt in hand you prepare for drop good luck human matter or some other reasonably compatible substance as it moves around inside and possibly crack or detach from the shell but at the level of g-forces that you will experience during re-entry the chances of it not cracking are very good A sturdier container is a wise idea The exterior could be made of wood with a soft-gel coating to help with impact, speed, brittleness and fire-resistance Make sure that you have enough tubing to securely bind all the bits together and enough space between the shells to allow the gasses to escape without letting in outside air possibly The egg-contraption could launch using a cupola or abseiling from a crane over platform, fastest way would be to strap it to the bottom of

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