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topweeklyupdate · 3 years

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TØP Weekly Update #142: A Formidable Album (5/21/21)

So... how 'bout that album release week?

There's so much to cover; the release of nine new songs, the hype that's building for the World's Best Band to return to the stage, and (if we're able to come up for air) the massive speculation of what the future brings for our band.

I'm gonna get right into it, laying out my thoughts regarding this bold new album and covering all the most notable news from the week. I'll be sharing my (mostly) positive opinions about Scaled and Icy under the Read More line; I hope they're the start of a fun conversation with all of y'all who have stuck around through this last year.

Scaled and Icy Review

First, my general thoughts on the album: It's good! Really good. Do I think it's a no-skip like Vessel or a cohesive piece of art like Trench? Absolutely not! But it's also not the potential misfire that I worried that we might be getting when I first heard "Saturday" (more on that later); I think all of the songs are at least good, and some of them are downright great tracks that hold up with anything else that our band has ever released. It is also indisputably very different, but I think that generally works pretty well. Many of the songs evoke '60s rock or Britpop sounds and structures that you can tell Tyler is still trying to navigate, but I think he does a very solid job at adapting them to suit his strengths- namely his lyricism and knack for melody- rather than change to suit them. Unfortunately, this does result in a bit of square-peg-in-round-hole syndrome at times; most of the rap verses on the album feel like they're here just to fulfill an obligation to fans who would be mad if they weren't here, and most of the songs that use them are the weakest ones in the project.

"Good Day" plays a major role in getting the rest of the album to work as well as it does. Its gradual ramp-up, introducing the sound that will be used throughout the rest of the album. Its playfulness belies its message about how one can project a somewhat false optimism for oneself in the midst of tragedy: the type of dark stuff in a bright package that Tyler is so so good at. It's perhaps not an instant classic, but I am excited to see how it comes across when it's eventually used as a show-opener. 9/10

I've of course already discussed "Shy Away"; an anthemic, inimitably catchy track that I just wish had a bit more going on under the hood. Still going to be so good to hear thousands of voices scream "An 'I LOVE YOU' that isn't words!" someday. 9.5/10

"Choker" definitely took a little bit to grow on me. I think part of that was a bit of disappointment from over-inflated expectations and the environment I was in when I first heard it. With further listens, I fall more and more in love with the melody of the song... well, most of it. Like the rest of this album, the biggest weakness in the song is when Tyler tries to tick the box of having a rap verse; it just feels really out of place, unfinished, and almost amateurish, and it doesn't end the song on the note that it really should. Without it, it'd be one of my favorites on the album; with it, "Choker" is a solid 8.5/10.

Speaking of unfinished-sounding songs really hurt by their rap verse: "The Outside". There's a definite something to the vibe of the song, but that seemingly nonsensical verse is one of the two weakest parts of the entire project for me. The way the song meanders only adds to the feeling that there wasn't as much energy and attention paid to it compared to other parts of the project. It's pretty easily my least favorite track on Scaled and Icy, and the only one I might regularly skip. I've also seen plenty of people saying it's the best song on the album, so please tell me why I'm wrong! 6.5/10

"Saturday", as mentioned above, had me really nervous about this album. Like "Choker", it's grown on me a bit since I first heard it, in part because it fits better with the context of the rest of the album. However, this one really does feel undercooked lyrically and overreliant on the novelty of using a disco-inspired sound that seems to chase trends more than almost any other TØP track. The inclusion of that very sweet audio clip from Jenna boosts the song in some ways, but also adds to the disappointment in others; there are many other songs on this project that would be more worth surrendering time watching Friends. Thankfully, those come next. 7/10

"Never Take It" is fascinating. I never thought I'd hear a Rolling Stones-style song from Tyler Joseph featuring a gd guitar solo of all things, and it actually sounds pretty great. However, I also predict that this song will see some of the greatest critical scrutiny out of all the songs on the album. The lyrics seem to be Tyler's criticism of the media for playing up division in our society, but he's extremely vague when discussing which entities are spreading said division and ultimately recommends that people "educate yourself, but never too much". I'll be honest: maybe it's the fact that it sounds like something my dad would listen to, but it feels like this would get tons of play on Fox News. Since it makes specific reference to the events of last summer, it's hard not to feel like song is at least partially inspired by Tyler's brush with cancellation last year. Maybe I'm reading too deeply into it, but those reservations come from the song's lack of specificity, which is an issue of songwriting more than politics. They hold me back from truly loving a song that still manages to be one of the most exciting the band has ever put out. 8.5/10

"Mulberry Street" seems like the perfect realization of the entire album's intended tone. It is so pleasant, so lush while also simply produced, full of great lyrics, metaphors, and imagery. It really brings the whole project together, even if it's missing That One Line to really move this up to the top tier of the canon. 9.5/10

"Formidable" is the best song on the album and one of two songs I would truly rank in the top tier of the band's canon. Extremely pleasant and brimming with well-crafted lines to make your heart swoon. Jenna (and Rosie) is (are) a lucky gal(s). Or is it about Josh? Who's to say? 10/10

"Bounce Man" is just plain wild. I think Tyler's smuggling someone to Mexico to escape the feds? The playfulness of it all really covers up any frustration I might have with the clarity; it makes it clear that there's not really stakes here, just vibes. 8.5/10

"No Chances" sees the album take a turn that I'm sure the Reddit Clique is going to have an absolute field day with; it and "Redecorate" both sound quite different from the rest of the album and evoke enough elements of Trench to make me think that's it's actually possible that all this 'SAI is Propaganda' stuff might actually have something to it... until I actually pick apart the lyrics, then I'm even more confused. The song has some of the best rapping on the album, though that's not saying much (the feng shui line is a groaner right out the gate) and the gentle pre-chorus is really pleasant. I still haven't made up my mind on whether the chorus is effective or just plain goofy. This one might get worse or better on repeat listens, impossible to say for now. 7.5/10

"Redecorate" rounds out the album by opening with a Clancy quote (Tyler, you bastard), firmly setting this as a coda to Trench more than the album we just listened to. The rest of the song is really storytelling, with Tyler describing a bunch of people who are struggling deeply. The idea of "redecorating" here stands for how they are faced with the option to clean and resort their own spaces and lives or leave that to their loved ones to do after they're gone. By the time it gets to the album's name drop, you begin to wonder how much of this is potential autobiographical of the last year. It's moving stuff, a callback to some of the great strengths of the band's discography. 10/10

If I average those scores all up, this project ranks below almost every album among the Pilots discography on my rating scale, very narrowly edging out Self-Titled. That's still a very solid 8.6. Scaled and Icy is a very good album on first listen. We'll see how I feel about it after having a little more time to sit with it, but I've rambled enough: let's move through the rest of the week's news.

Other News

Of course, there was a lot else going on this week! To accompany the release of "Saturday", Zane Lowe over at Apple Music dropped an interview with Tyler. As usual, Zane did a pretty solid job of getting to the heart of the craft and the creation process. However, Tyler also wound up skirting a lot of the questions to just talk more about how much he loves being a dad, which makes me happy; if the cost of getting a little less attention and mental energy devoted to the music is that little girl getting all of his attention, that's honestly preferable for me.

The album rollout is not even close to over. Later today, the concert will be streamed live. It's our first real performance that we've gotten from the band since 2019, but the previews that we've seen have completely exceeded any of my expectations, and really anything that we've seen from the band. It appears that they've transformed the entire arena (which I think is the ol' Schott at Ohio State) into a whole TØP world, with different sets laden with Easter eggs and a cast of backup dancers. If the website can hold up to the traffic (and I acknowledge that might be a big ask), this could really live up to Tyler's promise of this being the best livestreamed concert ever.

Oh, and this guy dyed his hair pink.

What a time to be a fan. Catch you all tomorrow.

Power to the local dreamer.

|-/

#twenty one pilots #scaled and icy #tyler joseph #josh dun #good day #shy away #choker #the outside #saturday #never take it #mulberry street #formidable #bounce man #no chances #redecorate #top weekly update

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little-diable · 4 years

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Lady May - Negan (smut)

Lyrics from “Lady May” by Tyler Childers. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Warning: mentions walkers, a slight panic attack (basically a bit of angst)

I'm a stone's throw from the mill And I'm a good walk to the river When my workin' day is over We'll go swim our cares away

“Shouldn’t take us much longer”, his raspy voice made her groan, “you said that hours ago”, (y/n) ran a hand over her muddy features, making a face at the deep chuckle, that rumbled through him. “Not my fault, that you’re such a lazy ass”, he winked at her, grasping her wrists to pull her against his chest, front pressed into his leatherjacket.

“Fuck you”, (y/n) bit into his lower lip, giggling as Negan pinched her behind, “I still love you”, she mumbled, voice much lower this time. “I know you do”, Negan pulled her further through the forest, set on making it back to the sanctuary. They had been taking some time for themselves, exploring the woods nearby, sharing a few kisses along the way, dreaming about a carefree life, without any walkers, any riots and certainly without Rick the prick.

A few groans echoed through the forest, a sound both have been used to by now, not caring about a few walkers, they’d be able to defend themselves anyways. “Negan”, (y/n)s eyes danced across the forest, eyebrows pulled together, more groans began to hallow through the night, way more than she was comfortable with,“fuck”, she muttered. “Sounds like a herd”, Negan began to pick up his pace, he certainly didn’t plan on fighting off that many walkers, cursing himself for not taking a walkie-talkie with him.

“Run”, she whimpered, jogging a few feet ahead of him, only turning her head as she picked up on the sickening sound of Lucille breaking through a skull. Everywhere she turned her head to, walkers began to encircle them, groaning and grabbing, desperate to get closer to the two human beings.

I've seen my share of trouble And I've held my weight in shame But I'm baptized in your name

“Doll”, Negan rasped out, eyes momentarily hooked on hers, “run”, he tilted his head to the side, “run”, he repeated himself, ripping her out of her thoughts. “I’m not leaving you”, she argued, tears began to well up in her eyes, a lump began to form in her throat, suffocating her, “you will”, he spat, cold eyes burning through her one last time.

Her cry echoed through the night, she turned her back on him and slipped through a small opening, bumping her shoulder with one of the walkers. Tears streamed down the sides of her face, burning on her cheeks, she covered her ears with her hands, she wouldn’t survive having to hear his cries, screaming as the walkers ripped him apart. He didn’t even get the chance to say “I love you” one last time.

Another sob spilled from her lips as her eyes focused upon the Sanctuary, they had been closer than she had originally thought, she fell onto her knees, screaming for help. “(Y/n)?”, the saviors stormed out of the gate, surrounding her trembling frame, one sob after another wrecked through her, hands grasping Arats.

“Where is he?”, she only shook her head, forehead pressed into Arats lower abdomen, tears soaked through her friends shirt, “a herd overcame us, just a few minutes away”, her fingers trembled as she pointed her finger into the direction she came from. A few of the saviors took it opon themselves to fight off the remaining walkers, striding through the woods, in hope of stumbling across their leader.

Arat wrapped her arms around (y/n)s frame, careful not to drop her exhausted frame, pulling (y/n) into the sanctuaries protective walls, settling her down on Negan's bed. “It hurts”, she whispered, pushing his pillow into her chest, inhaling his scent, mind wandering back to this morning, he was been laying on the fabric, hands exploring her body, wearing his typical smirk on his lips. “Let’s get you into the shower.”, Arat helped (y/n) out of her muddy clothes, hands combing through the knots in her hair, carefully cleaning her friend.

The nights dark veil fell upon her shoulders, pulling her further into the darkness, letting her fall into a light slumber. She was dressed in one of his white shirts, waking every now and then, new tears would blur her vision each time, reminding her of the nightmare she was currently living through. At one point she could have sworn that she heard his thick boots pounding against the cold floor, raspy voice echoing through the hallways, probably a trick her mind was playing on her.

“Doll”, a voice woke her, eyes fluttering open at the soft contact, “hi”, he was hovering above her, a few cuts and burns graced his features, his arm was wrapped in a white bandage. “What- you’re, you-”, she stuttered, shaking her head, wondering if she was still fast asleep, dreaming about him, “I’m not dying on you anytime soon doll.”, Negan wiped a few of her tears away.

“Oh fuck”, a sob spilled from her lips, forehead pressed into his chest, tears soaking through his shirt, back trembling with every breath she took. “Hey, it’s alright, I’m here.”, he kissed her forehead, Negan tugged on her wrist, pulling her out of the bed, towards the bathroom, desperate to wash the blood and mud off his body. “Sh, calm down, doll”, he wrapped his arms around her sobbing frame, heart breaking with every cry of hers.

I came crashin' through the forest As you cut my roots away And I fell a good long ways

She took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the uneasy feeling in her gut, relieved to finally be reunited with her lover, not having to deal with the massive wave of grief, that overcame her hours ago. “I’m sorry, it’s just-”, another deep sigh left her, “I can’t live without you. I love you Negan”, a smile made its way onto his lips, eyes twinkling with love and adoration, “I love you too doll”.

He pulled her in for another kiss, hands placed on her naked behind, squeezing her skin, kneading his fingers into her flesh, length throbbing in anticipation. Negan ran his fingers through her folds, parting her lower lips for his length to nestle in between, tapping his clit with his tip, “you’ll be the death of me”, he mumbled before he thrusted into her heat. Negan grasped her right leg and hooked it around his waist, to pound even deeper into her wetness.

(Y/n)s head fell backwards against the cold shower tiles, hands roaming his chest, scrubbing at his skin, eyes set on his, wondering if she was still stuck in one of her dreams. Negan wasn’t roughly fucking her like he’d do most of the time, he was making love to her, set on pleasing his lover in all the right ways, not caring about his own release, only caring about being as close to her as possible.

“I love you”, (y/n) breathed out before she gave into her orgasm, forehead falling against his shoulders, legs just about to give out, crying his name. He pulled out of her, stroking himself a few times till he released himself, eyes not leaving her once. “I love you too”, he chuckled, ready to fall into bed with her, pressed against her warm back, dreaming about nothing but his lover.

#Negan #negan smut #negan imagine #negan x reader #Jeffrey dean morgan #walking dead #walking dead imagine #walking dead smut

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tothemaxxx · 4 years

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My Favorite Films and Performances of 2020

“I wish I could’ve seen it on the big screen.”

It was a strange year, and even stranger year of movie watching. In 2020 I saw only one of my top films in a theater, which is crazy (like much else over these past months). But the experience of keeping up with the movies this year was a reminder that great filmmaking can transcend the specifics of the viewing experience. In your living room, in bed, projected onto the side of a garage, streaming on Twitch, broken up into multiple sittings, maybe even on your phone (desperate times)… if doesn’t matter as long as it connects with you. A great film has the power to soothe and transport, to alter your perspective, to re-wire your brain. So while I didn’t get on a single airplane last year, I definitely went places. And I’m grateful for these changes of scenery. For the time-travel as well; last year in my house, we found great comfort in revisiting a bunch of old favorites. It was also an opportunity to finally watch a number of those older films that had someone evaded us… a year of catching up, now or never. We were members of a weekly movie club for some months — that was cool. Another pleasant silver lining was the emergence of virtual film festivals, which have been a fantastic opportunity. I hope that they can continue in some form when this pandemic is in the rearview. Because, you know, getting to Park City is a real schlep. All this to say: like you, I’ll always remember 2020. In this truly crummy year, the movies really helped.

I’m including some of the film festival stuff that’s coming out a little later, because the boundaries between 2020 films and 2021 films feels blurry to me without proper theatrical releases.

TOP 5, loosely ranked. I love these deeply.

1. LOVERS ROCK, Steve McQueen

2. NOMADLAND, Chloe Zhao

3. ANOTHER ROUND, Thomas Vinterberg

4. TIME, Garrett Bradley

5. MARTIN EDEN, Pietro Marcello

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The rest of the Top 25, in alphabetical order. I loved these.

À L’ABORDAGE, Guillaume Brac

BACURAU, Kleber Mendonça Filho

COLOR OUT OF SPACE, Richard Stanley

THE FATHER, Florian Zeller

FIRST COW, Kelly Reichardt

I’M THINKING OF ENDING THINGS, Charlie Kaufman

JASPER MALL, Bradford Thomason and Brett Whitcomb

LUXOR, Zeina Durra

ALEX WHEATLE / EDUCATION / MANGROVE / RED, WHITE AND BLUE, Steve McQueen

THE NEST, Sean Durkin

NEVER RARELY SOMETIMES ALWAYS, Eliza Hittman

NEW ORDER, Michel Franco

THE PAINTER & THE THIEF, Benjamin Ree

THE PERSONAL HISTORY OF DAVID COPPERFIELD, Armando Iannucci

POSSESSOR, Brandon Cronenberg

PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN, Emerald Fennell

RELIC, Natalie Erika James

SAINT FRANCES, Alex Thompson

SOUND OF METAL, Darius Marder

THE TRUTH, Hirokazu Koreeda

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I also enjoyed (some more than others):

Apples, The Assistant, Babyteeth, Bad Education, Black Bear, Blow the Man Down, Borat Subsequent Moviefilm, Butt Boy, The Climb, Da 5 Bloods, Deerskin, Emma, The Father (Bulgaria), Greed, His House, The Hunt, I Used to Go Here, I'm No Longer Here, Impetigore, The Intruder, The Invisible Man, Kajillionaire, La Llorona, Let Them All Talk, Lost Girls, The Man Who Sold His Skin, Mank, Never Gonna Snow Again, News of the World, One Night in Miami, Palm Springs, Preparations to Be Together for an Unknown Period of Time, Rebecca, She Dies Tomorrow, Shirley, Slow Machine, Sorry We Missed You, Soul, Spree, Straight Up, A Sun, Swallow, Tenet, Tesla, Tommaso, The Traitor, The Trip to Greece, True History of the Kelly Gang, Uncle Frank, Under the Open Sky, The Vast of Night, Vitalina Varela, Wendy, The Whistlers, Wildland, Young Ahmed

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And these documentaries!

American Murder: The Family Next Door, The American Sector, Assassins, Beastie Boys Story, The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart, Bloody Nose Empty Pockets, Boys State, Brainiac: Transmissions After Zero, Circus of Books, Class Action Park, Collective, Crip Camp, David Byrne's American Utopia, Dick Johnson is Dead, Fireball: Visitors From Darker Worlds, The Go-Go's, Gunda, Miss Americana, MLK/FBI, The Mole Agent, Mucho Mucho Amor: The Legend of Walter Mercado, My Psychedelic Love Story, Mystify: Michael Hutchence, Narrowsburg, On the Record, Other Music, Sisters with Transistors, Spaceship Earth, The Way I See It, Whirlybird

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And these shorts:

Bye Bye Body (which I edited), Fit Model, Friday Night Pizza for Daddy, Hard Cracked the Wind, The Human Voice, John Was Trying to Contact Aliens, Michael's Preference West, What Did Jack Do?, World of Tomorrow Episode Three: The Absent Destinations of David Prime

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My favorite performance of the year:

Frances McDormand as Fern in Nomadland

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Favorite ensembles:

À l’abordage, Another Round, Bad Education, Babyteeth, Bloody Nose Empty Pockets, Blow the Man Down, Emma, First Cow, Kajillionaire, Let Them All Talk, Lovers Rock, Mangrove, Mank, One Night in Miami, The Personal History of David Copperfield, Promising Young Woman, True History of the Kelly Gang

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More memorable (and in some cases under-discussed) performances:

Christopher Abbott as Colin Tate in Possessor and as Gabe in Black Bear

Idir Ben Addi as Ahmed in Young Ahmed

Riz Ahmed as Ruben Stone in Sound of Metal

Daniel Algrant as Kelvin Kranz in Let Them All Talk

Maria Bakalova as Tutar Sagdiyev in Borat Subsequent Moviefilm

Haley Bennett as Hunter Conrad in Swallow

John Boyega as Leroy Logan in Red, White and Blue

Rob Brydon as Rob Brydon in The Trip to Greece

Jessie Buckley as Young Woman in I’m Thinking of Ending Things

Nicolas Cage as Nathan Gardner in Color Out of Space

Salif Cissé as Chérif in À L’abordage

Sheyi Cole as Alex Wheatle in Alex Wheatle

Cleopatra Coleman as Trina in The Argument

Carrie Coon as Allison O’Hara in The Nest

Michael Angelo Covino as Mike in The Climb

Willem Dafoe as Tommaso in Tommaso

Charles Dance as William Randolph Hearst in Mank

Catherine Deneuve as Fabienne Dangeville in The Truth

Katie Findlay as Rory in Straight Up

Sidney Flanigan as Autumn in Never Rarely Sometimes Always

Johnny Flynn as George Knightley in Emma

Julia Garner as Jane in The Assistant

Robbie Gee as Simeon in Alex Wheatle

Chris Giarmo as himself in David Byrne’s American Utopia

Betty Gilpin as Crystal Creasey in The Hunt

Ethan Hawke as Hank in The Truth

Kris Hitchen as Ricky Turner in Sorry We Missed You

Anthony Hopkins as Anthony in The Father

Jonathan Jules as Dennis Isaacs in Alex Wheatle

Sandra Guldberg Kampp as Ida in Wildland

Joe Keery as Kurt Knuckle in Spree

Udo Kier as Michael in Bacurau

Orion Lee as King Lu in First Cow

Delroy Lindo as Paul in Da 5 Bloods

Peter Macdissi as Walid "Wally" Nadeem in Uncle Frank

Matthew Macfadyen as Wilcock in The Assistant

George MacKay as Ned Kelly in True History of the Kelly Gang

Yahya Mahayni as Sam Ali in The Man Who Sold His Skin

Luca Marinelli as Martin Eden in Martin Eden

Tuppence Middleton as Sara Mankiewicz in Mank

Mads Mikkelsen as Martin in Another Round

Wunmi Mosaku as Rial in His House

Elisabeth Moss as Cecilia Kass in The Invisible Man

Kelly O'Sullivan as Bridget in Saint Frances

Shaun Parkes as Frank Crichlow in Mangrove

Robert Pattinson as Neil in Tenet

Paul Raci as Joe in Sound of Metal

Kadeem Ramsay as Samson in Lovers Rock

Gayle Rankin as Marissa in The Climb

Tanya Reynolds as Mrs Augusta Elton in Emma

Tyler Rice as Detective Russell Fox in Butt Boy

Andrea Riseborough as Hana in Luxor

Cecilia Roth as Marta in The Intruder

William Sadler as the Grim Reaper in Bill & Ted Face the Music

Kenyah Sandy as Kingsley Smith in Education

Amarah-Jae St. Aubyn as Martha Trenton in Lovers Rock

David Strathairn as David in Nomadland

Michael Stuhlbarg as Stanley Edgar Hyman in Shirley

Swankie as Swankie in Nomadland

Tilda Swinton as Woman in The Human Voice

Kristin Scott Thomas as Mrs. Danvers in Rebecca

Steve Toussaint as Ken Logan in Red, White and Blue

Alec Utgoff as Zhenia in Never Gonna Snow Again

Jairaj Varsani as young David Copperfield in The Personal History of David Copperfield

Ben Whishaw as Uriah Heep in The Personal History of David Copperfield

Sharlene Whyte as Agnes Smith in Education

Letitia Wright as Altheia Jones-LeCointe in Mangrove

Ramona Edith Williams as Frances in Saint Frances

Kôji Yakusho as Masao Mikami in Under the Open Sky

Youn Yuh-jung as Soon-ja in Minari

Helena Zengel as Johanna Leonberger in News of the World

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Favorite pre-2020 films I saw for the first time in 2020:

Blood on the Moon, But I’m A Cheerleader, Crooklyn, Cure, Daughters of the Dust, The Death of Dick Long, Deep Cover, The Draughtsman's Contract, Eyes of Laura Mars, Give Me Liberty, Greener Grass, Hardcore, High Hopes, The Last Party, Long Day's Journey into Night, Maiden, One Day Pina Asked, Persona, Right Now Wrong Then, Right On!, The Seventh Victim, Slightly French, Synonyms, Tammy and the T-Rex, Variety, The Watermelon Woman... and a tip of the hat to Coppola's new The Godfather Part III recut, The Godfather, Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone

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bewitching-elizabeth-olsen · 4 years

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Press/Gallery: Elizabeth Olsen Is Ready to Lead the MCU

An ambitious new Disney+ series might just give the strongest Avenger the happy ending she deserves.

GALLERY LINKS

Studio Photoshoots > 2021 > Session 001

ELLE: We can’t keep meeting Elizabeth Olsen like this. By “this,” I mean in the throes of catastrophe or bereavement, or, to put it plainly, when she’s an emotional wreck. In the 2018 Facebook Watch drama Sorry For Your Loss, Olsen assumes the role of Leigh Shaw, a young widow grappling with the unexpected loss of her husband and all the painful nuisances that come with death: the unbearable waves of sadness, the clichéd condolences, a grief support group that runs out of donuts. At one point, Leigh says through a cracked voice, “I’m just mad all the time.” It’s hard not to draw parallels to Olsen’s other angry character. After all, “mad” is exactly how 2015’s Avengers: Age of Ultron introduced us to Wanda Maximoff.

Defined by tragedy since her Marvel debut, Wanda (aka the Scarlet Witch) is an orphan with telekinetic powers. When not saving the world, she spends most of her time onscreen grieving the deaths of her parents, twin brother, or lover. Wanda’s never been allowed to fully exist outside the confines of her grief and anger, but with the launch of WandaVision—Marvel’s foray into serialized content for streaming—she may just be getting the happy ending she deserves.

Partly inspired by The Vision comic book, which follows synthezoid superhero Vision and his family as they move to the suburbs of Washington, D.C., the Disney+ series is an ode to the TV sitcoms we’ve come to love, with Wanda and Vision (Paul Bettany) basking in newlywed bliss—except Vision’s been very dead (killed twice, in fact) since the events of 2018’s Avengers: Infinity War. It’s unclear exactly how these starcrossed characters got to suburbia, but for now, it’s a delight to see the typically solemn duo sink their teeth into slapstick comedy.

“The show is like a blank slate for them,” Olsen tells me over Zoom, her light brown fringe a departure from Wanda’s red waves. The Scarlet Witch’s doleful glare is also long gone; in its place, Olsen’s eyes are wide with excitement. “Wanda and Vision’s journey to this point is a story of pure, innocent love and deep connection with another person,” she explains. “It was also very traumatizing. Tragedy has always been their story. In our show, we kind of wipe that clean and start fresh.”

But Wanda’s complicated past looms over WandaVision. Age of Ultron saw her and her twin brother, Pietro, initially opposing the Avengers (the siblings volunteered for a series of experiments with Hydra—a super evil organization within the MCU—after the deaths of their parents at the hands of Tony Stark’s Stark Industries) before switching sides to help save the Earth. The movie ends in victory for our superheroes, but yet another tragedy for Wanda when Pietro dies in battle. She finds comfort in the arms of Vision, an android created from the remains of Tony’s J.A.R.V.I.S. program, but even that bliss is short-lived. You see, Vision can only live with the help of the Mind Stone, which Mad Titan Thanos needs to take over the universe. In Infinity War, Vision asks Wanda to sacrifice him, and Wanda reluctantly agrees—but Thanos reverses time to gain control of the stone, killing the robot for a second time. Wanda’s pain is palpable: Imagine sacrificing the love of your life to save everyone else, just to watch him brought back to life and killed again—by the very villain you’re trying to defeat.

Though the thrill of playing a character with superhuman abilities is enticing for any actress, Olsen says it was Wanda’s internal battle with mental health that attracted her to the role in the first place. “[Joss Whedon] explained to me that Wanda Maximoff has always been this pillar of the struggle of mental health, from her pain and depression and traumatic experiences to how she completely alters the reality of the comics,” Olsen says of her early conversations with the Age of Ultron director. “The thing I held onto after reading the initial script was that she was not only powerful because of her abilities, but because of her emotions.”

In fact, MCU theorists would argue she’s one of, if not the, strongest Avenger. She can infiltrate the others’ minds to reveal their biggest fears (Age of Ultron). She can overpower Vision and send him plunging through several floors to break up a fight between warring superheroes (Avengers: Civil War). She can even bring Thanos to his knees, snapping his sword in half and forcibly removing his armor piece by piece (Infinity War).

Still, “they keep slapping her over the head with more grief,” Olsen quips.

As phase one of the Marvel Cinematic Universe began with the sound of clanging metal on May 2, 2008, phase four kicked off on January 15, 2021 with a kitschy 1950s sitcom theme: “She’s a magical gal in a small town locale / he’s a hubby who’s part machine / How will this duo fit in and pull through? Oh, by sharing a love / like you’ve never seen.”

With WandaVision, Marvel steers clear of the typical superhero trappings: no destructive battles at a Berlin airport or across the streets of New York City; no blonde-haired god time-traveling to other realms; no tree-like alien fight alongside a raccoon. Wandavision takes place after the events of Endgame in a fictional suburban town called Westview, and the biggest problem the newlyweds face in the show’s opening moments is creating a convincing backstory to get nosy neighbor Agnes (Kathryn Hahn) off their backs.

“They are just trying to fit in,” Olsen explains. “They’re trying to not be found out by their neighbors that they’re super-powered beings.” Now, if only we can figure out what the hell is actually going on. Olsen remains tight-lipped: “The reason it’s a sitcom shows itself later in the show,” she hints. “When Kevin [Feige] told me, it didn’t feel so bizarre. It felt like a great way to start our story.”

“With our show, you don’t know what the villain is, or if there is one at all.”

So, is Wanda stuck in the first stage of grief, denial? Has she altered reality as a coping mechanism for Vision’s death? Is she being held hostage by a terrorist organization (ahem, Hydra!)? One thing we do know is that someone is watching the couple and taking notes. At the end of episode 1, the camera pans out from a retro TV playing an episode of WandaVision (meta!) to show a hand jotting down notes. There’s a strange sword symbol on the notebook and a nearby control board, and in episode 2, the same sign appears on a toy helicopter lodged in the couple’s front yard. Later, when a mysterious beekeeper crawls out of the sewer on the couple’s street, the symbol is seen on the back of his suit. In its 20-plus movies, Marvel villains have always existed in plain sight. But with a new, less obvious darkness lurking at every turn, Wanda may have to return to her world-saving roots.

“Someone said to me when you watch any of these hero movies, you know when the villain’s about to show themselves, and you also have an idea of who the villain is,” Olsen says. “With our show, you don’t know what the villain is, or if there is one at all.” For now, WandaVision allows for glimmers of hope and optimism for Wanda and Vision, despite what darkness tries to threaten their happiness. “Wanda is trying to protect everything in her bubble, protect what she and Vision have and this experience,” Olsen says. “I think everything she does is in response to keeping things together.”

In addition to exploding the concept of the superhero onscreen, WandaVision toys with a different era of TV in each episode. The pilot takes viewers to the ‘50s with an episode filmed in front of a live studio audience, and Wanda dresses up in the quintessential housewife garb, not a hair out of place in her voluminous bob. By the time we click on episode 2, she trades in her apron and kitten heels for a more pared-down ‘60s look, while episode 3 gives a nod to the ‘70s, complete with a Brady Bunch-style staircase and a shag haircut for Vision.

While dressing up was the fun part, time-hopping through the eras required a lot of binge-watching old sitcoms to get the mannerisms down right. Olsen studied series like The Dick Van Dyke Show, The Brady Bunch, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and Bewitched to “understand the tones of each era” and get a grasp of how Wanda and Vision should act as a couple. (One of her favorite TV pairings was Jane Kaczmarek and Bryan Cranston from Malcolm in the Middle.) She was fascinated by the way female characters evolved through the decades: “You have to learn appropriate manners—what’s considered being polite or proper. That coincides with women’s voices changing,” she explains. “I enjoyed challenging myself to match the syntax and the lyricism. I live in a very chest-register kind of deep voice. I had to remember not to bring it up at certain moments.”

For so long, Wanda served as a supporting character to Marvel’s biggest names, and the formulaic mundanity of the major theatrical releases made it easy to get comfortable. WandaVision offered Olsen a much-needed challenge. “I’ve only been working for 10 years, but there is this feeling where you start to get comfortable,” she says. “WandaVision was the furthest thing from comfortable for me. It felt intimidating. The character is a completely different thing.”

And fans hoping for a little Marvel action won’t be disappointed. “We still live up to what Marvel does,” she promises. “We just tell the story in a completely different way. It’s a very emotional, female story and it’s a story they haven’t told yet for either of our characters.” Whatever your theory is, keep the cliché condolences to yourself. No one will be uttering, “Sorry for your loss” in Wanda’s world.

Press/Gallery: Elizabeth Olsen Is Ready to Lead the MCU was originally published on Elizabeth Olsen Source • Your source for everything Elizabeth Olsen

#Elizabeth Olsen #WandaVision #Avengers #Scarlet Witch #Wanda Maximoff #Sorry For Your Loss #Avengers Infinity War #Avengers Age of Ultron #Captain America Civil War #Ingrid Goes West #Godzilla

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onestowatch · 3 years

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Lollapalooza 2021: 15 Ones to Catch (Who Aren’t Headlining)

Lollapalooza is officially one week away, and wow does that feel good to say. As one of the first music festivals to welcome us back to festival season after a far too long hibernation, the annual festival, hosted at Grant Park in Chicago, Illinois, is set to bring the musical stylings of Tyler, the Creator, Miley Cyrus, Foo Fighters, Megan Thee Stallion, and plenty more. But, unless you’ve been living under a rock, chances are that you’re already more than familiar with the artists set to headline. So why not figure out who to see while you’re waiting to scream along to Call Me If You Get Lost.

From collectives who are moving beyond the need for genres to music that is just as likely to make you cry as it is laugh, these are 15 ones to catch (who aren’t headlining) at Lollapalooza 2021.

Peach Tree Rascals

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When & Where: Sunday, 2 p.m. at Bud Light Seltzer Stage

Peach Tree Rascals’ Lollapalooza set has been a very, very long time coming. The Bay Area–bred collective has been steadily making waves with their genre-bending approach to indie-pop that calls to mind a more idyllic, lovesick BROCKHAMPTON (an act you should most definitely catch as well). And despite emerging a growing fan-favorite in the last couple years, the aforementioned rascals have yet to play a show, ever. With a headline tour that was canceled due to COVID, Lollapalooza will officially be making history as the first-ever Peach Tree Rascals set.

Tate McRae

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When & Where: Saturday, 5:15 p.m. at Grubhub Stage

Tate McRae’s rise through the pop stratosphere has felt meteoric. First gaining fame at the young age of 13 for being the first Canadian finalist on So You Think You Can Dance, McRae has certainly come a long way to stand as one of the most promising voices in pop. With a vocal range more than powerful enough to deliver haunting dark pop ballads like “you broke me first” one moment and stand side-by-side with Khalid on the summer bop “working” the next, there are no two ways about it. McRae is a pop star in the making and this is your chance to catch her before her inevitable headliner status.

Marc Rebillet

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When & Where: Saturday, 9:00 p.m. at Grubhub Stage

Part-time meme and full-time artist, Marc Rebillet creates music with an unmatched comedic timing. It’s a comedic genius that has led to him getting a 24-hour ban on Twitch—for taking his shirt off in the middle of a stream, an act which I’m guessing Lollapalooza will be more than forgiving of giving his penchant for performing in a bathrobe. The self-described improvisational artist creates all his songs from scratch, resulting in an experience where no two live shows are quite the same. Come for the comedy, stay for the absolute dancefloor bangers.

Dayglow

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When & Where: Thursday, 3:45 p.m. at Lake Shore Stage

Dayglow is sure to bring a smile to your face and put a pep in your step. Apologies if I sounded like my grandparents there, but there’s no denying the sonic sunshine that is Dayglow’s rapturous brand of indie-pop. Paying homage to the dance-inducing melancholy of ‘80s pop duets, it’s difficult not to get swept up in the Austin, Texas–bred artist’s hypnotic vision. It’s the sort of euphoric music that feels almost tailor-made for the return of festival season—drenched in sunny rays and brimming with infectious sincerity.

Giveon

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When & Where: Friday, 4:45 p.m. at T-Mobile Stage

Before his breakout moment on Justin Bieber’s “Peaches,” Giveon was already charting his path for R&B domination. With an angelic and haunting baritone, each R&B rumination carries with it a palpable weight—an emotional turmoil that is only elevated by the minimalistic soundscapes which allow the proper space for his transfixing voice to fully shine. For a crash course on Giveon, check out a compilation of his two standout EPs, When It’s All Said and Done… Take Time. Or better yet, experience the magic of Giveon live.

Ashe

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When & Where: Thursday, 6:30 p.m. at Grubhub Stage

Ashe creates effortlessly timeless music, blurring the line between the nostalgic songwriting of Fleetwood Mac and a modern-day folk-pop star. The sentiment is best expressed in her critically-acclaimed debut album, Ashlyn, which demonstrates the Los Angeles artist’s peerless songwriting acumen, toeing the line between rapturous euphoria one moment and deeply affecting storytelling the next. If you need a good laugh or cry, do not miss out on Ashe.

Sir Chloe

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When & Where: Sunday, 12:45 p.m. at T-Mobile Stage

Fronted by Dana Foote and comprised of Teddy O’mara on guitar, Palmer Foote on drums, and Austin Holmes on bass, Sir Chloe’s music exists in the nebulous void of haunting dark pop and heart-rending alternative garage rock. The New York–based indie rock band originally started as a college project, birthed in the music halls of Bennington College, and now they’re set to take Lollapalooza by storm. With an impressive debut album, 2020’s Party Favors, under their belt, this set feels only the beginning for the bewitching indie outfit.

jxdn

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When & Where: Sunday, 3 p.m. at Bud Light Seltzer Stage

jxdn is the latest artist to make good on pop-punk’s continued resurgence. The first signing to Travis Barker’s DTA Records, the breakout singer-songwriter has found a fan in not only the blink-182 star but in Machine Gun Kelly, who jxdn is set to tour with this fall and makes an appearance on his debut album, Tell Me About Tomorrow. With an acclaimed debut album in the books and some of pop-punk’s biggest stars behind him, jxdn is sure to deliver a Lollapalooza debut for the ages.

AG Club

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When & Where: Friday, 7:45 p.m. at Grubhub Stage

AG Club, an abbreviation of avant-garde club, is a genre-less music collective that shares a lot in common with fellow Lollapalooza must-see act, Peach Tree Rascals, including a collaborative single. But don’t get things twisted, this Bay Area collective has their own vision in store for you. With a brash, in-your-face attitude, AG Club is likely to draw comparisons to the Saturation era of BROCKHAMPTON and glory days of ASAP Mob, but with their introspective, omnivorous approach, they deftly manage to emerge as an act all their own. If you want to go where the party is, don’t miss AG Club.

Tai Verdes

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When & Where: Friday, 1:45 p.m. at Bud Light Seltzer Stage

Where would we be without TikTok? I, for one, would be without my preferred form of short-form entertainment and the world be without the infectious pop-R&B stylings of one Tai Verdes. Originally working at Verizon before his breakout single, “Stuck in the Middle,” became a viral hit on TikTok, Verdes is now one of the most promising and rapidly rising acts in music today. And with his debut album, TV, the viral star proved himself no one-hit-wonder, delivering a collection of tracks that span a range of emotions and genres that we cannot wait to experience live.

Dominic Fike

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When & Where: Thursday, 7:45 p.m. at Grubhub Stage

Dominic Fike is a musical chameleon. First breaking out with his unassuming radio hit “3 Nights,” to only jump into the absolute vibe that is the Kenny Beats–assisted “Phone Numbers,” and culminate it all with the genre-spanning debut album, What Could Possibly Go Wrong, Fike is an artist whose limitations seem limitless. It’s a notion that plays out in his breathtaking live show, reworking his hits with an insatiable appetite until they’re songs that exist only in that singular moment. Fike’s is set you will not want to miss.

Oliver Tree

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When & Where: Thursday, 9 p.m. at Grubhub Stage

Alternative auteur Oliver Tree is nothing if not unpredictable. Flaunting his signature JNCO jeans and an impressive professional razor scooter pedigree, the inimitable artist delivers on an infectious blend of alternative, electronic, hip-hop, and pop that defies any simplistic classification. And with his debut album, Ugly Is Beautiful, now out in the wild after a much-hyped cancellation and subsequent surprise release, Tree has more than his fair share of music to pull from. Plus, given his penchant for going in and out of retirement like he’s trying to break a record only known to him, it’s probably best not to miss this set.

RMR

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When & Where: Sunday, 2:45 p.m. at Tito’s Handmade Vodka Stage

RMR originally made headlines with his breakout single, “RASCAL,” a transfixing country trap ballad that saw the rapper donning a black balaclava and Saint Laurent bulletproof vest while rapping over an interpolation of Rascal Flatts’ “Bless The Broken Road.” Since then, the anonymous rapper has been spotted hitting the town with Sharon Stone and embracing his penchant for melodic trap in the Westside Gunn, Future, Lil Baby, and Young Thung–loaded Drug Dealing Is a Lost Art. Existing at the fusion of trap country and melodic rap, RMR’s Lolla set is one you’re not likely to forget anytime soon.

Chiiild

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When & Where: Sunday, 12:00 p.m. at Lake Shore Stage

Nostalgic and novel, Chiiild’s self-described brand of “synthetic soul” is nothing short of intoxicating. Setting its own sauntering pace, Chiiild’s unique take on R&B and soul takes on a cosmic energy, as if floating through a wormhole with nothing but a single cassette deck on hand. It’s a testament to the Canadian band’s all-encompassing approach that draws upon not just R&B and soul but psychedelia, jazz, indie, and pop to craft a sound that is all their own. Take a trip on Sunday, and meet us at Chiiild.

All Time Low

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When & Where: Thursday, 6 p.m. at Tito’s Handmade Vodka Stage

Because teenage you wasn’t old enough to convince your parents to let you see All Time Low the first time “Dear Maria, Count Me In” was trending.

#lollapalooza #lollapalooza 2021 #tate mcrae #peach tree rascals #marc rebillet #dayglow #giveon #ashe #sir chloe #jxdn #ag club #tai verdes #dominic fike #oliver tree #rmr #chiiild #all time low

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tinyshe · 3 years

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I was with Him when

He rode into town,

And crowds gathered 'round Him like a king.

Their smiling faces joined a sea of branches waving,

Though, they were masquerading in the end.

And my heart rose in my throat when I heard them sing,

"Hosanna, in the highest"

We went upstairs, broke the bread and drank the wine

From the only living vine that we would taste.

And I watch them take Him up the mountainside

Where He was crucified though innocent.

And they mocked Him, and cursed Him with their mouths

And told Him to "come down" if He was God.

And my heart broke in my chest when I heard Him say

"Forgive them, it is finished"

And I remember in the garden when He sweat like drops of blood

And how he begged the Father just to let Him pass the cup

And I can still feel the anguish when they pierced Him in the side

And how the ground beneath us shook upon the very moment that He died

Three days later we found an empty grave and the stone was rolled away where He had been

Tears of joy streamed down my face for the angel said

"Oh fear not, He is risen"

#lent #holy week #jesus #music

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captainstressed · 4 years

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The Choice

Written for Day 2 of @whumptober2020 Prompt: “Pick Who Dies” Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Yasmin Khan, Rose Tyler, The Master (Dhawan) Word Count: 1,766 TW: mentions of a gun | off screen character death AO3:

Her mind was racing a mile a minute as she tried to work out a way to get them out of this, she ran through so many possible scenarios and the longer she paused, the bigger his grin grew, and her hearts felt as though they might actually burst out of her chest from the fear and panic that grew with every moment.

"Come on Doctor, we don't have all day."

His tone held a touch of boredom, as though what he was asking barely required a second thought, as though he wasn't asking her to literally choose between the lives of the two people who meant the most to her.

She looked across to the two women, both on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs. Yaz kept her expression neutral, refusing to add to The Masters satisfaction by showing her fear but The Doctor knew her well enough to sense her panic as she considered the possibility that she might not be able to get them out of this one. Rose had been the most vocal about their situation but it had taken the sound of a gun being cocked followed by a gentle pressure against the back of her head for her to fall silent. She'd paused for his warning, ready to bite back that if he was going to kill her anyway then there was no way in hell she was going down quietly. What he had said instead however made her blood run cold.

"Your daughter is turning four soon in your universe isn't she?"

Tears had filled her eyes and she locked eyes with The Doctor, who's expression was as unreadable as ever, she took a moment before responding and it was clear her words weren't only aimed at The Master.

"If anything happens to her, I will kill you."

"I'm the one with the gun here love." He had told her, increasing the pressure of the gun just a touch as though to emphasise his point before taking a step back and letting out a breath of a laugh.

She had remained quiet after that, her gaze burning into The Doctor as the latter's shifted between the three of them.

The Doctor hadn't known Rose had a child, she knew nothing about her, not since she had left her and the metacrisis Doctor in the parallel world so many lifetimes before. Was the child his? hers? It really had nothing to do with her but despite the situation they were currently in she couldn't help but wonder and found herself wanting to know, would it sway her decision?

There had to be something she could do, she'd been known to tear holes in the universe for less. How could this be happening, how could she have allowed this to happen. Rose had been safe in the parallel world, she and Yaz were in a good place, she had let her guard down, allowed herself just a moment of reprieve and he had used it against her in the worst way possible.

He was mad, she'd known that for a long time and she also knew what he was capable of but somehow she never fathomed that he would resort to this. He called it a truce of sorts, for all she had done to him, he would allow it to all be forgotten, she just had to choose who would die as penance. It was sick, and twisted, and so him.

"Doctor."

His sing song voice pulled her from her thoughts and her gaze snapped to his, he waved the hand that held the gun in her direction and she actually felt as though she might be sick. She had despised guns all her lives, something he was well aware of. He saw it as a permanent solution to their feud, but perhaps he was stupider than she ever thought possible if he didn't think for one moment that the pain she would inflict upon him for his actions would be so much greater than he could comprehend.

"I know what you're thinking."

He continued and her expression remained unflinching as she awaited for him to elaborate. If he had any idea of her current thought process then none of them would be here right now, or maybe he really was that stupid.

"If you even try and go back to change what happens here today, then I promise you Doctor, oh I promise you, things will turn out so much worser than even you could imagine."

He assured her, his tone contained a sliver of glee that didn't go amiss by her and she got the feeling that part of him wanted her to try just to give him an excuse.

Instead of responding, The Doctor looked back to the two women. First to Yaz, her beautiful, fantastic, brilliant Yaz. It had been just over a year since Ryan and Graham had left Team TARDIS and Yaz had chosen to stick around, they'd been teetering on the edge of something for a while before then but their newfound privacy of sorts had only allowed their growing feelings to blossom until finally they had decided to make it official. The Doctor had never been someones girlfriend before and although she'd never really cared much for labels it felt nice to have Yaz refer to her as such and she never tired of the look Yaz gave her every time she referred to Yaz as hers. The Doctor felt the prickle of tears at the thought of never seeing that look again, she had kept her emotions at bay throughout the ordeal thus far, letting only her anger show as to not play into The Masters hands any further.

She switched her gaze to Rose then, her pink and yellow human. Well, she supposed Rose hadn't been hers in a long long time, and in some ways she had never technically been hers at all. She looked different, older, her hair although still blonde was a touch darker these days. It had been millennia since she had last set eyes on her, many had walked in and out of her lives since Rose, some she loved, some she didn't, most of which had been there as a buffer, a reason to keep moving forward, to stop her going back and ripping another hole in the universe just to bring her back.

Then she'd met Yaz. She couldn't quite put into words her feelings towards Yaz much like she'd never quite been able to do so with Rose back when she was pinstripes. Her feelings towards both women had been and were so powerful yet at the same time they couldn't be compared to one and other. Both relationships had existed in different lifetimes and The Doctor had never expected for them to collide. Seeing Rose had brought back so many feelings for The Doctor, feelings even she wasn't aware she still felt.

Both women continued to stare back at her and she wondered what they were thinking. Did they think she had a plan in motion to get them all out of this? Did they expect her to actually choose one of them to die? Who did they think she would choose? She had to look away as the array of thoughts invaded her mind, it was suffocating and the more she thought about what she was being asked to do the more disgusted she felt with herself.

"How do I know you won't just kill them both, or me?"

It was the first time The Doctor had acknowledged what she was being asked to do out loud and she had to take a deep breath to try and keep her urge to throw up at bay. She averted her gaze from Rose and Yaz as she spoke, unable to look at either of them as she discussed the very matter of their lives.

"I'm nothing if not a reasonable man." He told her with a shrug and she laughed, a loud, short burst of noise that sounded odd coming from someone with an expression as stone faced and cold as The Doctor's.

"So, say I choose."

She paused when she heard a sharp intake of breath coming from where Yaz and Rose were still kneeling, the very possibility that she was considering going through with his sick game finally sinking in with the two women.

"Say I choose someone."

Her voice cracked every so slightly as she continued and she looked over at The Master, a quiet smirk on his lips as she finally played along with his game.

"You let the other one go."

If she thought by dropping their names and averting her gaze it would make this any easier she was wrong on so many levels, it was taking every ounce of self control she had not to throw up at the very thought of what she was considering.

The Master gave her a nod.

"I want your word."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and offered The Doctor what would be considered a friendly smile if not given the current circumstances.

"You have my word, Doctor."

The Doctor nodded. It was the smallest gesture, but it was acknowledgment that she was agreeing to his terms, agreeing to choose someone, someone she loved, to die. She heard another sound coming from where Yaz and Rose were, this time it was a sob. Looking over to them for a final time, she saw both women with tears streaming down their cheeks, there was no longer any reason for them to put up a front when the decision had already been made, one of them was going to die and there was nothing they could do about it.

Both women met her gaze despite their tears and The Doctor was unsurprised to feel tears slipping down her own cheeks, making no effort to wipe them away she looked each of them in the eyes, one of which would be for the final time.

"I'm sorry."

She whispered, her voice broken as she finally looked back to The Master who actually had the nerve to look like he felt sorry for her.

"I love you."

The tear-filled voiced reached her ears from behind and she squeezed her eyes shut in order to stop herself from looking back, she had to do this, she had no other choice. It was a handful of moments but felt like an eternity before she reopened her eyes and prepared herself to tell The Master who she had chosen.

#whumptober2020 #no.2 #day2 #fic #prompt #pick who dies #character death #doctor who #ao3 #yaz x thirteen #thirteen x rose #dhawan!master #tw mention of a gun

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years

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Lars and Aidan Caught

(An Anon requested a chapter from my original WIP that had Aidan/Lars, so here you go! Although it goes... dark places. This is a novel about demons, after all...

CW: Threatened noncon towards the end (doesn’t actually happen), some violence. Takes place in a fantasy universe, in a cult that has very homophobic tendencies and there is some use of in-world homophobic language)

The moon was a sliver of itself, leaving the world bathed in a more complete darkness than usual. Aidan stepped off the path northeast of town and instead walked through the woods, in no hurry, pretending to be taking an idle stroll.

The whole time, he placed each foot carefully to avoid sticks that might crack or leaves that might rustle as he passed, trying to keep one eye over his shoulder. No one was out this late at night, the point where it was nearly early morning. Guards at Petra’s Gate, maybe; maybe a Hunter or two around the perimeter.

They never met near either of those places, and sticking to the north part of town meant you’d see even fewer people, since everyone avoided the caves. Still, the tension in town every day meant it had been nearly three weeks since they’d been able to pass a message along, set up a time. Aidan couldn’t seem to stop second-guessing himself, looking over his shoulder with every step.

Something was going to happen, or… maybe it had happened already. Something he didn’t know about or understand. The air in Morlofte had changed. Aidan had been comfortable in this place, it was his entire life, but he was starting to feel nervous. The rules were changing, rules that had always been etched in stone were slipping away like sand.

The Singer held Gatherings with new fervor, sometimes three times a week, her eyes wide and white-rimmed and wild. She spoke about taking the word of the Mother out into the world itself, but… the message wasn’t the same. She wasn’t promoting peace. This wasn’t the sermons he was used to. He’d once all but rolled his eyes as they droned on and on. Now, he sat in rapt, horrified fascination.

The Singer told them to have faith in the coming storm. She spoke about opening the Gates like Morlofte was an army preparing to invade, rather than a peaceful town mostly made up of farmers. The people cheered, their eyes strangely empty while they applauded. She had started training everyone in town in combat, having the Guards walk them through the basics, claiming it was for ‘defense’.

Yesterday, Aidan and a couple of other Guards had been denied entrance into the caves, where Guards had always been the ones who came and went to take care of those in punishment. Now only the Elders and the Singer and her daughters went in there these days.

No one in punishment had been allowed to come out in weeks. On the other hand, crimes that had once been punished by time in the caves were either being ignored outright, or people were beaten. Sometimes openly, in the street. Aidan had been ordered to strike someone the other day.

Elder Brem said there was a new law, that the Singer had had a message from the Mother that they must become tougher, harder on the people. Prepare them to stay together even in times of great distress.

What distress? What were they planning?

People were frightened.

If the Singer suddenly didn’t want people in the caves, she had to be hiding something in there. It couldn’t be the runaway; Tyler Rykke’s existence was common knowledge by now. They were keeping people out of the caves, and at the same time, talking about opening the Gates. Even the hum of the fence, the gentle permanence that had never left Morlofte and had always sounded like comfort and reassurance to Aidan, had a jagged edge these days.

Something was different. Something was about to happen, and he didn’t want to be here whenever whatever it was occurred.

It was time for Aidan to leave, and he knew exactly who he wanted to take with him.

He went to their usual spot, a secluded clearing, barely the length of three men lying head-to-toe, alongside a small stream. Just enough rushing water sound to drown out their words if anyone came nearby, but not so much that they couldn’t hear the crashing sounds of anyone unused to the woods.

The clearing was empty when he got there, but that wasn’t unusual. Aidan settled himself into the shadow of a tree, trying to shake off his exhaustion. These after-midnight meetings were hard the next day. He’d have to try and sneak off for a nap at some point, if nobody seemed like they’d notice.

Everyone seemed to notice everything these days. Nobody talked about anything but surface things, but you could hear the fear in their voices, the worry. He knew even the younger ones were worried, too. Bram had taken to crawling into Aidan’s bed in the middle of the night, fourteen year old Bram, to ask him if they were about to be overrun by the world outside.

He wasn’t sure how to explain that they might be the ones gearing up to go out there themselves. He wasn’t sure if he should ask him to run away, too.

Aidan heard the sound of someone coming through the brush, and although he was pretty sure he knew who it was, he took another two silent steps back himself, until he was completely shrouded by shadow.

After a few moments, the person he’d been waiting for stepped into the clearing. With his eyes adjusted to the dark, Aidan could see every detail.

“Hello,” He said softly, stepping out of the shadow of the tree. “Missed you.”

“Hello yourself,” Lars Mikkelson replied, a smile playing across his face. He looked somehow leaner in the shadows and dim moonlight, wearing just a thin shirt and pants that could have been blue or gray or any color at all. The thin, silvery light washed everything out. They were all just grays, now.

There was a pause, while they just stared at each other. It occurred to Aidan that he’d never seen anything as beautiful as Lars in the middle in the night. He opened his mouth to tell him, realized how absolutely, atrociously awful it would sound if he tried to find the words, and closed his mouth again.

Finally, Aidan said, “C’mere,” in a voice that seemed caught somewhere in his throat. Lars crossed the length of the clearing in something slightly less than a run and they grabbed onto each other like drowning men, their kiss one that felt more like a need than affection.

When they finally broke apart, both gasped for air. Aidan ran a hand through Lars’s hair, as always a little caught off guard by how delicate he seemed. “You’re late,” He whispered, and kissed him again.

Lars laughed, more exhalations than sound. “I’m not. You were early.”

“It’s been weeks, Lars.”

“There was never a good time. We’ve been busy. Things have been…” Lars trailed off, and finally shook his head. “Healers have been needed more than ever these days. Plus, El has been watching me like a hawk. I had to make sure she was asleep before I could go. Let’s hope no one has a nightmare tonight and wakes up and she has to explain where I am again. She hates how often I go for ‘walks’. Plus, she says with things the way they are now..”

“She hates everything about you,” Aidan shrugged. “She always did.”

“No… she doesn’t hate me. She tried to make it work for a long time. I’m the problem, not her.” Lars looked away, off to the side, crossing his arms in front of him. “She’s hurt, Ade. I’ve been married to her for years and all I’ve ever done is hurt her.”

“You didn’t ask to be assigned to her.”

“She didn’t ask for me, either. Let’s stop talking about this. I don’t want to meet you with her right there behind me, telling me all the ways I’m evil this week. I want being with you to be just being with you.”

“I want that, too.” Aidan frowned, standing awkwardly for a moment before simply folding Lars into his arms. There were times it paid to be the taller man, and the feeling of the top of Lars’s head tucked just under his chin… it was something he thought about all the time, going through the motions of the rest of his life. It was all just biding time until there was this. “We’ve got to get out of here, Lars.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know what, but something is really, really wrong.”

“I know.” Lars pulled back, and Aidan for a moment regretted having said anything at all. Here, these times they met in secret, time sped by. The rest of his life, it stood still. He would have given anything to switch the two. “But where would we even go? You’ve heard what it’s like out there.”

“What we’ve been told it’s like out there. What if it’s better? What if they don’t want us to know because they’re afraid no one would ever stay?”

“Aidan… what if it it’s not better? What if we run, and we hide, and we find our way out there and it’s… worse?”

“I don’t think there are walls out there. If it’s worse, then we just keep going. We just go until we don’t see anyone, and we stop in that place, and we live for each other.”

“You can’t just live for someone else for forever,” Lars said, softly, but there was a smile in his voice that Aidan would have given anything to hear again.

“Watch me,” Aidan whispered, and kissed him again before he could say anything in reply. They folded into each other in away that was utterly natural. Their mouths opened to each other and Aidan thought there had never been anything so soft as Lars, as everything about him. The stream beside them burbled away, a squirrel took off with a crash in the branches above them. Aidan pulled back, just for a moment, just long enough to pull Lars’s shirt over his head, then his own.

“We can’t stay too long,” Lars said, his hands already going to undo the button on Aidan’s pants.

“How long is too long, exactly? I think I can take up exactly that much time.” He laughed, pushing Lars’s back up against a nearby tree, one hand sliding around behind the back of his head, the other finding its way further down.

“Shit-,” Lars gasped, and Aidan cut him off with another kiss. There was quiet, except for their shifting, the occasional gasp, the sound of their mouths together. Aidan pulled back, looking at the shadows sliding around and over the other man’s face. “By the Far God, you’re pretty,” He said. His voice was hoarse with desire.

Lars blinked at him, startled by the casual heresy, but he put his hands up to Aidan’s face. “Oh, Ade. I-”

There was a sudden loud crash in the bushes off the way they had come, the sound of someone cursing. Aidan felt a cold wave of fear wash from head to toe, undoing every ounce of warmth that he’d had a moment earlier. He pushed himself away from Lars, trying to do his pants back up over the very obvious bulge trying to make itself known. “Shit.”

Found us. For nearly three years they’d been meeting like this. Three years, in different places, always after midnight. For three years no one had ever suspected a thing.

“Oh, Mother,” Lars whispered. Even in the darkness, his face had gone a sickly chalky white. “Oh no. Oh no.”

“Lars, get out of here,” Aidan snapped. “Just run. I’ll keep them busy. Maybe it’s just Eldaway. Maybe she followed you.”

“Eldaway already hates you enough, and that cursing was a man’s voice,” Lars said, but the humor didn’t quite land. His eyes flickered, panicked, back and forth between the source of the sound and Aidan’s face. “Ade, they’ll know we-... they’ll hurt you-”

“Not your problem. Go.”

The crashing was louder. It was definitely more than one person, Aidan thought. He tried to calm himself. Lars just stood there, like a deer staring down an arrow headed right for it. “I said go!”

Lars looked back at him once more, nodded, and took off. He ran barefoot through the cold streamwater. Smart; one way to not leave a trail right off the bat. Aidan swept his sword up into his hand and spun around just as three Guards stepped out of the trees into the clearing. That had been close. How much had they seen?

“Who was that? Get him!” One yelled at the others. Ben, Aidan thought. That was Ben. One of those the Singer trusted to leave with Traders, to go out into the world. Aidan hadn’t spent years afraid of this exact moment for nothing. Aidan raised his sword and stepped into the path of the one who had moved to follow Lars, smiling.

“That’s not necessary. I think you’ll have your hands full with me,” He said smoothly. His heart pounded with panic, but none of it showed on his face. At least he hoped it didn’t. Run, Lars. Run fast.

“Looks like you’ve had your hands full enough tonight, flit.” Ben’s lip curled with disgust. “What else you been filling?”

“Oh, do you need me to show you how it works?” Aidan raised an eyebrow. “I give lessons, you know. I’m very talented.” The rage was building in their expressions, rage and disgust. If he made them angry enough they’d forget Lars entirely, focus on him. Aidan knew he should feel ashamed but all he could think about was Lars, racing barefoot through the woods, putting as much distance between them as he could before they realized Aidan was pissing them off on purpose.

“Shut up, slagpile. You’ll be damned for that, you know. For… that.” The man gestured to the spot where Aidan and Lars’s shirts were in a pile together on the ground, near their shoes. “We saw it was a man, Garnes. You’re well and truly fucked, now.”

“No, that’s what I was about to be before you showed up to join the fun, Benny.”

“Shut up and surrender, degenerate,” another guard said, spitting to the side. “Tell us who you were with. It doesn’t have to go down like this.”

“I’m sorry, Eli,” Aidan said sincerely, setting his feet into the dirt with one slightly angled in front of the other, trying to keep his eyes on all of them at once. His body moved into a low, defensive posture fluidly, instinctively. “It doesn’t matter who I was with.”

“Shit,” the third Guard said, nervously. “I don’t want to fight Aidan. I’ve seen him practice.”

“Coward,” Ben spat. “Flits can’t fight.”

“Most of them, maybe,” Eli shrugged. “We know Aidan can. You don’t get to be Elder Brem’s favorite without being able to handle a sword, Ben.”

“This piece of shit handles more than swords,” Ben said, rolling his eyes. There was something off about them, Ben’s gaze seemed wrong somehow, but it was too dark for Aidan to tell exactly what it was. “Take him down. We’ll find out soon enough who he’s been rutting with like an animal out here in the woods.”

“I’ll have you know I rut like a man,” Aidan said smoothly. “With other men.”

The distraction had worked. Ben roared and ran at him. The other two swung out to the side to try and get at his weak spots. Not one of them even looked in the direction Lars had gone.

Ben swung first, and their swords met with an ugly clang. Then Eli from the side, and Aidan just barely met his blow, ducked under the third guard’s first attempt. By then, Ben was already trying again. Aidan couldn’t last. It was three on one.

But he gave it a good fucking try, that was for sure.

It was Eli who got the first good cut in, a few moments later. Aidan spun away as blood dripped down his side, hissing at the hot flash of pain. That’d slow him down, and from the relief that flashed across their faces, they knew it. He tried to back up, dancing lightly away, but they kept pressing him in. A few more cuts, shallow, but they hurt like hell. The circle of trees seemed like bars on a cage, now. He just had to buy Lars some more time.

Just buy him some more time-

Ben stuck his foot out. Aidan, distracted trying to defend against Eli, managed to trip right into it and fell. His head smacked against a tree trunk.

His grip on his sword went suddenly slack, and Eli kicked it away. It skidded across the clearing, too far for him to reach.

Blade to his neck, less than an inch away. “Hold still, flit.” Throbbing skull. Something felt like it had broken in his mind. Breathing hard, Aidan held still.

Ben grinned down at him, sweaty enough that Aidan could see the sheen on his forehead and cheeks even in the night. Too sweaty. Why? The fight hadn’t been that long. It was still cold out here at night, still spring. “You’re bleeding in four places, Garnes. It’s over. Put your hands up. You’re under arrest for the pursuit of unlawful carnal knowledge.”

Aidan turned his palms out, hands up, sitting slowly up with the sword to his neck the whole time. He was sweating, too, or bleeding from his head where he’d hit it. Something wet was running down his face, in any case. “Fine. Take me back to town, then.”

“Not just yet.” The other two looked, confused at Ben, who just smiled down at Aidan. The smile stretched too wide, was held for too long. Aidan shuddered. “Who knew Aidan Garnes was degenerate, this whole damn time? Who’d have guessed it?”

“Well, I knew,” Aidan said helpfully, but his voice was weaker than it had been before. The air felt heavy and Aidan, for once, was afraid.

“Shut up.” Ben looked back at the other two, that smile still lingering in his expression. There was an empty hate in his eyes, something else roiling underneath. The faces of the congregation at the end of the Singer’s sermons, when she talked about the evils of the world outside, how the Mother would cleanse them all. “You were spotted leaving town, when we’re all on curfew these days. Now we know why. The Singer’s going to be so angry,” Ben said, with something like delight in his voice at the thought. Something perverse. “They’re going to kill you.”

Something had changed, in the air. Something was making people worse. Ben was being worse. He could see the surprise and uncertainty in Eli’s face, the unhappy looks he exchanged with the third guard, their confusion.

“So who were you with, Garnes? Tell us the truth, and we’ll go easy on you. Maybe you get to live. Turn him in. Let us know what other flit’s been seducing you. Maybe it wasn’t your fault, eh? Maybe someone else made you do it?”

“No one seduced me,” Aidan snorted. He blinked as red filtered into his vision in his left eye. Definitely bleeding from the head, then. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Doesn’t it? Guess I wouldn’t know. I waited for my wife, like the Singer said.”

Even Eli couldn’t pretend to believe that one, he and the other guard exchanged a baffled look. Aidan laughed out loud. “Oh, please. You went to the hayloft with Aisha when we were fourteen.”

Ben frowned, eyes narrowing. It’s in his eyes. What is wrong with his eyes? “At least I went with a girl.”

By now, Aidan knew Lars had to be far enough away that he’d stopped running. Maybe take a second to catch his breath. Walk back into town a different way, explain to Eldaway if she was up that he’d gone swimming or something-

“You’re really not going to tell us who you were with?”

Aidan spat on the ground, right at Ben’s feet. “I’d rather die.”

That slow, sick smile spread across Ben’s face again. Something is making people worse in Morlofte. What is it? What changed? I’ve never seen this face on him before. From the look on Eli’s face, neither had he. Something had changed in Morlofte.

Why isn’t it changing everyone?

“Let’s get him back to the Singer, Ben,” Eli said, in nearly a whisper, his own eyes suddenly wide, ringed with white. That was when it occurred to Aidan what was wrong with Ben. The thing that he hadn’t been able to figure out.

Ben’s were totally black. He had no whites in his eyes.

“You like men so much, Garnes?” Ben laughed. It was a low, throaty laugh. Lars laughed that way, sometimes, when they were out here in the woods. From Ben, it was the worst sound Aidan had ever heard. “Let’s find out just how much.”

“What?” Aidan’s lips were numb. “No.”

The sword moved away from Aidan’s neck, just a little. “You don’t get to say no. Get up on your knees.” One of Ben’s hands dropped, starting to undo his own pants.

“Ben, what the hell?” Eli sounded frightened, suddenly. “Stop.”

“I said on your knees, flit,” Ben said, flatly, ignoring him. There was another voice behind his. Something darker, an echo. Something almost liquid.

Survive, Aidan. No matter what you have to do.

Aidan felt his heart pound as he nodded, silently, and slowly pushed himself up onto his knees. He couldn’t think of any witty retort. He couldn’t think of any words at all.

“Ben.” That was Eli, but he sounded far away, and weak. Aidan could barely hear him. “You can’t do this. This isn’t right.”

His hands hung like dead weights at his sides. He tried to lift them, to push Ben away, but nothing happened. The air felt like it was pressing in, he could barely breathe. It was like having some massive stone laid atop his chest, only it was everywhere, all around him. The pendant at his neck burned and burned and burned.

“You’re going to do what I tell you,” Ben said. The other voice, syrupy black, twisted and writhed around his. “Or we’ll tell the Singer we found a corpse.”

“Ben, listen-” Ben turned his black stare on Eli and the other man closed his mouth, almost with a snap.

“Did you hear me, slag?” Ben turned back to Aidan. The point of the knife pricked the side of his throat, and he felt a trickle of blood run down. “You’ll do what I say. You don’t get to say no.”

“I heard you, Ben.” He had to run. To stand up. To get away. But the weight pressed in every side and Aidan, who spent hours every day practicing combat, who had been first through the fence after Tyler Rykke, was frozen with fear. “I heard you.”

“Good.” That awful laugh again.

“What’s wrong with him?” Eli asked the other guard, the one Aidan didn’t know. The other guard just shook his head. Both of them looked like any second they would step forward and end this, but they just didn’t. They just stood there. Like they couldn’t look away.

“Help me,” Aidan whispered. “Help me, Eli, please-”

“Shut up,” Ben growled. There was a shadow behind Ben, the shape of someone else, something darker than all the other shadows in the woods. There was no moon, no sliver of light found its way inside that darkness. There is someone making him do this. This is magic. Aidan, staring upwards as Ben moved towards him, thought he could hear a woman’s laughter, a sound like something rotten bursting open to let all the awful inside out.

Ben grinned, a sickly smile. Behind his face Aidan could see another one, wide black eyes that watched him, a shifting of skin. He could nearly see its expression, some horrible joy slipping in and out of the hateful desire in Ben’s. “Do this right and I won’t make you do it again with no teeth.”

Aidan, frozen, only nodded again. Ben put a hand on top of Aidan’s head and began to force it forward.

“Wait.” The pressure around them began to lift. Eli moved, finally breaking from his paralysis, reaching out and grabbing Ben by one arm. “Ben, stop it! Just stop!”

Ben jumped and looked over at him, and it was like a spell had broken. The face behind his was gone. The shadow seemed to slither downward and then disappear, a sense of anger in the air in its wake. “What?”

“Ben, what the fuck are you doing?”

Suddenly, he was Ben. The Ben Aidan had worked next to for years, the one who chased after girls but never meant any harm by it, the one who had spoken dreamily about becoming a father one day.

Ben blinked rapidly, his eyes their perfectly normal mix of white and brown, and shook himself like a dog after rain. “What did I-... Oh, shit, what did I do-” He growled, stumbling backwards. His face burned bright red as he redid his pants and then kicked Aidan in the stomach with a force that sent him onto his back onto the ground, coughing. “Ugh. What the fuck just happened to me? It’s… it’s his fault somehow.” Ben kicked Aidan one more time for good measure, and something snapped in his ribs. “Let’s take him to the Singer and tell her what happened. She’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. She’ll… tell us what to do.” Ben’s voice shook, a little. Behind all his bluster and anger he looked terrified. “She’ll tell us what happens next.”

Eli and the third guard nodded, still staring at Ben as though they’d seen a ghost. They slowly moved forward, Eli unhooking the irons from his belt. It was the third guard who dragged Aidan’s hands behind his back and he didn’t even fight, staring still up at Ben, wondering what the fuck he had just seen.

Why had he frozen? He’d never frozen when threatened before. But no one had ever threatened him like that...

Something is wrong in Morlofte. Something is making people change.

The irons clicked onto his wrists, locked tight with the turn-click sound of the key. Ben held his hand out for it and Eli hesitated, then finally nodded and handed it over. “Let’s get him back to her fast,” Eli said, softly, and Aidan found himself nodding, quickly.

“Yes, absolutely, get me back to her fast.”

“Shut up,” Ben snapped. “Don’t make me do that again.” Aidan legitimately couldn’t tell if it was a threat or a plea.

His stomach ached, his cuts burned, and as they pushed him forwards through the woods he realized he must have twisted something in his leg when he’d tripped, as it began to throb as well. Eli and the other guard held him by the arms, thank the Mother, while Ben walked several feet ahead.

They’d been walking for a few seconds, Ben so far ahead they almost didn’t see him through the trees, when the third guard whispered. “What happened back there?”

“I don’t know,” Eli said, frightened. “I don’t know. Ben doesn’t… Ben isn’t a degenerate. He’s never been… he asked the Singer for a marriage assignment last week!”

There was a pause. “Maybe the flit did it,” The third guard said.

Aidan didn’t dare look at either of them. He kept his eyes on the ground, trying to look beaten. It wasn’t exactly hard, since he was bleeding in more places than he could count on one finger at this point.

“I don’t think the flit did it,” Eli replied finally. “He was too frightened. I saw… something else. I’ve seen a lot of something else lately.”

“Yeah. Me too. May the Mother keep us safe. We should tell the Singer about the shadow. About all the shadows.”

“Agreed. Even if Ben doesn’t, we have to tell her. And we don’t let Ben alone with him again. Just… just in case. It happens again. Whatever it was. I just don’t think the flit did it.”

“I didn’t, for the record.” The third guard smacked the back of his head. Aidan thought of the sheer volume of times he had hit someone to shut them up and honestly, the simple irony of it was kind of funny. He had to bite back a smile. Luckily, neither of them was looking.

“Let’s take him straight to her, don’t stop at the caves. Singer first.”

“Definitely agreed.”

If it was a choice between whatever had been in Ben’s eyes, trapped alone in a prison cell with the shadow that had turned Ben into someone else, and going to see the Singer, Aidan would pick the Singer any day. At least she’d just order his head cut off.

He tried not to think about the woods, as they came out of the forest and were back on the path heading towards town. It was late at night, nobody was awake but the usual patrols.

This was his second-worst fucking nightmare. But it wasn’t the worst.

Get home safe, Lars.

Goodbye.

I love you.

#original fiction #fear not the novel #aidan garnes #lars mikkelsen #tw: violence #tw: homophobic language

20 notes · View notes

brook13111 · 5 years

Text

Friends Please

https://youtu.be/2guTY5c7mSo

Warning: Death and a bit of gore later on, mental disorder, possible spelling mistakes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Based off the animation for TOP Friend, Please)

Lyrics:

I feel for you but when did you believe you were alone?

You say that spiders crawled inside and made themselves a home , Where alliance once was

Petrified of who you are and who you have become

You will hide from everyone, denying you need someone, To exterminate your bones

Friend, please remove your hands from, Over your eyes for me

I know you want to leave but, Friend, please don't take your life away from me

Living like a ghost you walk by everyone you know

You say that you're fine but you have lost your sway and glow

So I stopped by to let you know

Friend, please remove your hands from, Over your eyes for me

I know you want to leave but, Friend, please don't take your life away from me

Would you let me know your plans tonight

'Cause I just won't let go 'til we both see the light

And I have nothing else left to say

But I will listen to you all day, yes I will

Friend, please remove your hands from, Over your eyes for me

I know you want to leave but, Friend, please don't take your life away from me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tyler and Josh, nobody was and ever will be closer than them. Josh had a "mental disorder" called anxiety and Tyler tried to always be there for him, no matter what. To Josh it felt like something was creeping and crawling inside of him, something bad. It's been there for a long time but right now, he could feel it and to him, it felt real. He used to be a happy and peaceful boy but one day something happened and Josh's mind snapped. To him, he seemed completely alone in the battles. To him, it seemed that a lot of things were pointless. To him, it seemed like he was completely alone in everything, even though he knew he had Tyler with him at all times. He looked in the bathroom mirror and didn't like what he saw, he didn't recognize himself. He was scared of himself and what his mind has become. It was later at night and here, the poor, faded purple, messy haired boy sat on his bed in a dark, but not pitch black, room. The wooden door was locked so nobody could come in, a speaker was blasting Twenty one pilots and Queen so nobody could hear him. He knew he needed some help but he couldn't bring himself to get any. Tyler had a feeling deep inside of him that something was wrong. He ran over to his best friend's house and pulled out the spare key he had. He slowly opened the wooden door with some Creeks and walked in, quickly hearing Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody blasting in Josh's room. He closed the main door and walked to his friend's room, steps echoing through the empty and almost quiet house. Tyler went to go open the door but quickly found it locked. He knocked on the door and raised his voice so he could be heard over the music "Josh, buddy, it's Ty. Can I come in? ". He heard nothing but the music slowly died down slightly. Tyler decided to leave the door and go make some Tea for him and Josh and turned on their favorite movie. After he was done he went back to Josh's door and knocked again, loud. " Josh, if I can't come in then can you please come out?" The brunette tried the door knob and found it unlocked, he slowly opened the door and let a ray of light into the room. He saw his older friend hugging his knees in the middle of his bed. He was sitting on the blue sheets, his hands over his teary, light brown eyes and his soft purple hair a mess. Tyler went up to him, sat down in the soft sheets and slowly, gently put his hand on Josh's shoulder. He turned off the music and spoke in a soft and gentle tone "Friend, please, remove your hands from over your eyes for me. I know you want to leave, but please, don't take your life away from me.". Tyler, ever so slightly, grabbed Josh's pale wrist to move his hand. " You don't have to tell me what happened but at least come out if your dark room and come watch TV with me. I made you some warm tea to calm your nerves and relax you if you want it.". Josh ended up coming out and laying on his couch and Tyler sat there to comfort him until he felt better.

The next day Josh was taking a walk with Tyler. The wind was blowing making it colder than it already was. The trees dancing and the leaves soaring in the wind. The boys could see their fans in their merch and some fans would notice them and go to take pictures with Tyler and say so much about him. It was almost like Josh wasn't there, it was almost like he was just a ghost. He felt unseen and unloved. It wasn't because of his friend talking to a fan or so, it wasn't the fact that the fans preferred him over Josh, it was that it seemed like nobody would acknowledge his existence. His usual glowing personality, now a dark cloud. His shining brown eyes, now like dirt. Little did he know, or see that Tyler noticed. The brunette put his arm around the faded purpled haired boy to try and cheer him up some. The two tall boys walked on the smooth, cement sidewalk. Their hair blowing ever so slightly and leaves swaying in the wind, some going into it. Their eyes, slightly watery from the wind. Goosebumps on their arms from the chilly wind. As they reached Tyler's home, he saw the look and almost slight panic in Josh's eyes. Ty sat Josh down on his couch and took a deep breath, softly he said "I'm not One hundred percent sure what this one is about but trust me, it's gonna be ok. I'm here for you Josh, and nothing is going to change about that.".

(Normal is Tyler, italicized is Josh, also ⚠ gore and death warning ⚠)

It was night. Josh was probably home and Tyler was sitting there on his phone and watching TV. All of a sudden the brunette got a text and all it said was "I love you Tyler, goodbye". Tyler jumped up and was thankful that he put a tracker on his phone in case of emergencies. He ran to his car in panic and in a rush. Josh was looking in front of him. A long dark tunnel, a single light slowly getting bigger. He doesn't know how but his mind took over. Tyler probably broke multiple laws on the road trying to get to Josh in time. A loud honk was heard, getting closer every second. Tyler stopped at a field with a huge stone tunnel, and train tracks. The train had already gone by, he was too late. Tears brimmed his brown eyes, he reached out his hand, his legs got weak. There layed Josh, neck slit open and still bleeding, pulse non existent, noticeable bruises through his body. Tyler dripped down to his knees and held the now deceased Josh in his arms. Blood getting all over his clothes, he broke down and tears poured out of his eyes. He caressed Josh's face and put his head on his friend's hair. Sadly, he managed to cry out a simple word "Why". He pulled out his phone after a minute and called an ambulance to come pick up Josh. His purple hair a mess, his skin an even paler shade than normal, his eyes dull, tears streaming, a rusty red dripping and seeping into Tyler's clothes, sirens echoing in the distance, the night sky becoming cloudy and dull.

The funeral was the next day. All the family and close friends were there. All the fans mourned his death online or by themselves. Tyler promised he wouldn't do anything bad to himself but he was extremely depressed. That wasn't the end of 21 pilots but things did change. Everyday Tyler would talk to Josh, whether it's to a picture, to his grave, or to the sky. Today he looked at the sky and with tears streaming down his soft, pale skin and in a soft, loving and gentle voice he spoke to Josh "I'll be seeing you again buddy.....One day.".

#writer #twenty one pilots #death #one shot #short story

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witchqueenofthemoon · 6 years

Text

BODY AND SOUL Part 6 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: As ever, y’all continue to render me speechless with your kind words and messages of support and encouragement regarding this fic. There’s no end in sight; I have the next few chapters mapped out and will keep going as long as Duncan and Kenzie drag me along behind them, telling me their story. I still plan on continuing to make vague allusions to Michael and Mallory as the fic goes on, as I consider Duncan and Kenzie to be the parallel universe versions of them here; whether or not I’ll tie it into something bigger remains to be seen, the allusions/easter eggs might be just that and nothing more. I just had to use Billie’s nickname for her mother (Momby) here, I just love it so much and I wanted to nod again to the fact that I’ve modeled Madeline after Carrie Fisher entirely. I based her house, the Cape Cod-style on Fenwick Street, on a real house I found listed for sale in Arlington. Candice, Kenzie’s EIC, is the AU version of Cordelia. I may or may not add other AU versions of AHS characters, it depends on where the story goes. Kenzie’s ex Tyler is an AU version of Taylor Lautner, Billie’s ex in real life, and I made him a pediatrician as a nod to his SCREAM QUEENS character. He may show up again later, he may not. The gossip website I made up, buzzpopfeed.com (lol), will probably show up again as Duncan and Kenzie’s relationship gains attention and becomes more public. I made a masterpost for this fic where I’ll update chapters as I finish them; please use it as your main reference point for the complete work going forward. Shoutout to @nat-de-lioncourt who made the moodboard edit that’s featured on it, and she also made this gorgeous moodboard for Part 5, which I love so much I could cry; go give her some love. Shoutout to @impiorumrequies who coined the shorthand DUCKENZIE for Duncan/Mackenzie yesterday when she sent me a message. You’re encouraged to use it as a tag if you reblog the fic. My laptop insisted it was time to update right in the middle of my editing this part and I forgot I needed to save what I’d formatted so far as a draft on Tumblr, so it took a lot longer than it should have to get it up on the site because I had to start from scratch once my laptop rebooted; I appreciate every comment, like and reblog if you’re enjoying the fic. And as ever: THANK YOU, Millory fans. You are truly the greatest of all time. There’s so much more to come.

Mackenzie sighed herself awake, out of a vague dream (fire and candles blazing, an angry, powerful man in black with long hair...it slipped away from her). For the second morning in a row, she woke in Duncan Shepherd’s black-sheeted bed, but this time she was really in it, not just on top of it; her sleep-dizzy head was buried in one of Duncan’s black pillows of organic Egyptian cotton and duck feather, and she could feel pressing weight around the rise of her bare hip under the duvet, a stubbled cheek pressed into the space between her bare breasts, skin pressed into the space between her legs, the incline of his thigh, the pressure of his cock, stiff with daylight. She looked down a little, moving her hand into the brown, sun-kissed curls against her body, gazed, in no small wonder, at Duncan’s wildly beautiful face in his deep sleep, arm thrown around her, his breath soft and slow, turning his head a little in his dreamstate so his lips hovered close to her nipple. He calls me angel, but I think he’s like an angel, too. More of an angel than me, because he doesn’t seem real; Claire was right, it’s like he’s living in a different universe. She imagined a halo around his head, great wings extending from his back, his blue eyes gazing on her, laying her bare again and again, kissing her secrets from her lips. He seemed otherworldly to her; he seemed impossibly perfect, especially this way. She felt tears gather at the corner of her vision; the emotion deep inside her thoughts frightened her. The feeling that gathered in the core of her body when she looked at him this way made her ache terribly, an almost physical pain building up in her. She thought of the roses in the bath and his cries of euphoria, the way he’d pressed into her in the bed again later, blurring her vision with his fingers and his mouth. Duncan. Will you be mine? His words from last night, achingly sincere, echoed down from the back of her mind. Yes I will yes she whispered again in her heart, fingers threading his hair as he slept. Yes I’m yours yes.

With a searing moment of disappointment, she remembered: it was Monday. She would have to go to work eventually. She tried to turn her body away from him carefully, so as not to disturb him (god he’s too beautiful, I just want to let him sleep, I just want to look at him and thank my stars for how wonderful he is she thought deep within herself), but he moaned a little, his arm tightening around her waist and sliding up, his face turning up, his hair in the light over his bed, his eyes touched with sleep. God, I could look at him all day. His eyes opened; sapphire, shadow, sky.

“Baby,” he murmured into her. “Baby. What time is it?”

She glanced over her shoulder, resigned to his waking. “7:46. I have to be at work in an hour. It’s Monday,” and she moved her hand through his curls and ached to go back to an hour ago, when they were asleep and in each other’s embrace, the world slipped away, moonlight on the bed.

“No, baby, no,” he muttered, pressing his mouth to the soft skin above her heart.

“Yes, baby, yes,” she smiled into him, hiding her own disappointment. He lifted his face, still half-awake, pressing his mouth into her chin, his hands reaching up to her nipples, his thigh pressing up into the space between her legs, questioning, hungry.

“Baby, I can’t…” she pulled away from him, full of regret.

Another little moan fell from his lips (those lips, on me always, oh my god, mine) and she whispered “I’m sorry,” and he pouted, and her heart shook, her body tingling. “I want you,” he said, looking up into her face, and she shook her head again, frowning, matching his discontent. She lifted herself away from him, sadly, resigned. He tried to come after her, reaching toward her, but she was good at skittering away; she had always had a talent for it, useful when she was young and shy and worried about everything, always running away. She slipped out of the bed, her naked back to him, shaking out her tangled hair. She didn’t look back at him, not right away; she felt determined to be bold after last night, cast in the haze of amazement and adoration as it all had been, determined to see the reality of everything clearly, determined to not be blindsided by his beauty yet again.

“Kenzie,” she heard him whisper from where he still lay in bed, staring at her.

“What,” and she turned, stretching, her hands lifting to the high ceiling, pressing the impulse to be shy about her nakedness away. Get used to it, Kenzie, she thought. Duncan Shepherd is your boyfriend now. Or, at least, he was last night.

“I meant everything I said last night.”

Duncan let the words hang in the air; he regarded her, and she thought in frustration that he was so blindly lovely she might never know what he really thought about anything; she’d be too distracted to decipher him, lost in his eyes.

“We’re together. That’s what I want. Is that what you want?”

She pressed her face into the incline of her shoulder; towards him.

“Yes. We’re together.”

“Okay.”

She looked at him again. He was still staring at her; eyes roving over her naked body, the fall of golden-brown hair down her back, the incline of her ass, the outline of her in the light streaming in.

“You are so beautiful.”

She smiled; she tried to hide the way her limbs shivered as his words fell over her. She blinked, turned her head, looked to the floor, disoriented, for her things.

“Fuck, I have to go. I have to change. I can’t wear that dress to work.”

“Okay.” The edge in his voice. Sadness. Longing.

She bit her lip. “What are your plans today?”

She heard the rustle of the sheets; heard his groan, his restlessness.

“Gardner Analytics press. Charity supplements for the Foundation. Dinner with mom tonight.”

“That’s...a lot.”

“It sure fucking is. Come back to bed.”

She blew air from her nose. “Duncan, I can’t.”

“I know. But it’s what I want.”

She lifted her head, glancing his way. He had come to a sitting position on the edge of his big bed, legs resting on the floor, hair tossed in sleep, a scant corner of sheet over his crotch; she could see the edge of his erection peeking from the corner of the fabric. She looked away, smiling. His eyes gazed and gazed and he bit his lip at her, blinking slowly, hunger shining out of their depth.

“Kenzie,” he said again.

“Yes?” She moved toward the bathroom, where she knew her dress lay in a heap.

“I want to tell my mother about you tonight.”

She turned to him, her heart in her mouth suddenly, sickness sinking into her guts.

“Duncan...are you sure?”

“I have this feeling, like...I want everyone to know. Especially her. But I don’t want you to worry. No matter what she says, or what she thinks, I’m with you. It’s what I want more than anything; to be with you. To know you.”

She had retrieved her dress; she slipped it over her shoulders, pulling her arms through the sleeves, pulling her hair free, easing it over her shoulder. She padded over to him on sleepy feet. “Zip me up,” she asked, softly, sitting there beside him, on the edge. He eagerly grasped her waist, turning to her, leaning his head to the incline of the nape of her neck, his fingers (oh, those hands) grasping the zipper, pulling it up with aching slowness as his mouth pressed into the soft skin along her spine, between her shoulder blades. She gasped a little, arching her back, the intensity of the act pushing a pool of warmth into her abdomen, her arms breaking out immediately into goosebumps. He moved his head slowly, achingly slow, lips lingering, trailing up to the nape of her neck where she felt his hot breath on the baby hairs there, and her whole body kindled a low fire, stoked by his mouth, his fingers. His hands reached the end of the zipper, one gently rising and seeking the incline of her neck, and she gasped a little again at the weight of his fingers there; they snaked softly around the dip below her ear and his index finger, long and languid and so obscenely beautiful, probed the corner of her mouth which ached open at the feeling of his touch, almost involuntary, sliding along her bottom lip, his other fingers at her throat. She felt the weight of his forehead press into the back of her hair, breathing deeply into it, as if it was the air; as if it was oxygen to him.

“Kenzie, is it okay? I want to tell her about you because--you are both so important to me. My mother was the most important person in my life, but now there’s you. There’s you. And I can’t keep it to myself. I need the people in my life to know...that you’re....” She could hear the whisper of his voice against her, the hand still playing at her neck and her little mouth, teasing her, aching for her.

“Your girlfriend?”

She bit the finger still playing softly at her bottom lip, and it pressed into the sharpness of her teeth, as if he liked the pain.

“Yes. My girlfriend.”

The One, she thought, and shivered. He hadn’t said that, why had she thought it? Why had it probed into her mind as though it came from him? That was odd, disorienting. Maybe I’m just imagining what I want him to say, she thought. We’ve known each other for two days, Kenzie, slow down. The feeling of his hand at her neck that way was wiping her mind of all coherency, bringing flashing memories bathed in gold light of him fucking her in the shower, his hand pressed there insistently, his eyes full of desirous abandon, storms. His eyes, a galaxy to lose herself in.

“Okay, baby,” she said. She turned to him, turned her head into his hand so it came to her cheek, clutching her, and gazed into those stormy eyes. “It’s okay.”

“Do you think you’ll tell Madeline?” He asked, his eyes clouding with concern, brow furrowing just a little, the sleep clearing from his features.

“I guess I have to.”

He was quiet at that, his hand falling down her arm, grasping her hand, tightly, as if to give her his strength, channel it through their bodies, into her heart. She felt as though it did somehow; somehow, he had given her some of his energy, and her body felt tingly, full of light.

“No matter what, we’re together. That’s what I want, Kenzie.”

“It’s what I want too.” And she knew it was true, she knew it was the only truth that mattered in this moment, the only one she could fathom. Now that he was here, now that her hand was clasped in his, the way it fit against his, as if it belonged there, the thought of being without him was like a knife in her belly. Life had changed. Everything was different. The colors of the world had burst into radiance; the glow of this reality was blinding.

“Two days ago I would not have believed any of this,” she said, sharing her thought with him. “If someone had told me I’d be dating Duncan Shepherd, I would have laughed in their face.”

He smiled (that smile, a dancing ray of sunlight on water, that smile), pulling her body into his naked one, pressing his face into her neck. “I can’t believe it either,” he whispered. “I feel...blessed. I feel like--everything has been building up to this. To you. Fortune is smiling on us. On me. And I’m so grateful.”

His words brought a lump of emotion into her throat, and she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her little face into his neck, breathing in the smell of his skin, hovering on the edge of her tears, knowing that he was right. Fortune is smiling on us.

-------

Kenzie stepped through the glass door to the main floor of the Post building, eyeing her little desk in the south corner, biting her lip, her thoughts seeped in Duncan. She was still thinking about the way he’d looked, standing there in his black briefs, pulling the sleeves of a high-collared black Oxford shirt through his long arms, hands pulling sleepily through his hair (I love his hair, she thought), watching her pull on her boots as she sat on the edge of his bed, smiling at her with a dreamy expression, and she had thought I could die in that gaze, die and be happy to die. Her subconscious painted the word Prince onto him again, reminding her of her dreams when she was a little girl pining over her fairy tale books, and she didn’t realize it, but a smile fell over her face, her cheeks blushing. My very own Prince, he really is.

She made it to her desk, setting down her black satchel atop it, pulling out her Macbook and the little recorder she’d taken secretly to the party (the party that changed my fucking life). She’d taken a Lyft home, changed in a frenzy into the saddle-colored turtleneck dress she now wore, hem hitting at the bottom of her thigh (need to be more subtle about all the marks on my neck, she’d thought, achingly) and knee-high black thigh socks, slipping on one of several pairs of comfortable black kitten heels that she often wore to work (it was usually them or ballet flats), grabbing a stick of mascara and another of brow gel from her makeup bag and smearing on a rosy-nude lipstain (good enough, she thought, resigned) and thrown herself out the door, half-walking, half-running to the Dupont Circle Station platform, a black triple-moon pendant with a round obsidian stone in the center bumping and twisting against the space between her breasts, her hair floating around her face, strands falling into her eyes, pressing her earbuds in, lost in her thoughts. I had a dream of a ship that we sailed in the night, a soft masculine voice floated into her ears from her phone, and she thought of Duncan’s hair, his hands. Ooooh / the fortune said / flowers bloom with no regret and she thought of the roses woven together around the bath, the candles, the look in his eyes when he’d pushed the velvet dress from her body, the ache in his eyes. Surround me body and soul / pull me into your glow, make me blush and she blushed at the thought of his hands and his lips and his beautiful cock exploring every corner of her body, his ardent, insistent touch, the glowing sincerity in his eyes, unbound me, spin me in gold / as the story unfolds in your touch, she remembered staring in wonder at the gargantuan painting that spread along the wall of his study, how it had dazed her, shaken her, the feeling of his mouth pressed into her sex and her vision blurring, lost in him and in it, in the beauty of it all, how could life be so beautiful, suddenly, ooooh, who can breathe me into life? / just one more look at you, my heart has been hypnotized…

She came back to her desk, from the memory within the memory, as Candice’s sincere, lovely, earnest, and right now, concerned face appeared in front of her, her golden hair falling in waves around her shoulders, her pink lips giving Kenzie a friendly smile.

“Good morning, Mackenzie,” she said, hands coming together in front of her pastel, chrysanthemum-covered wrap dress. “So, how’d it go?”

“Morning, Candice.” Candice was her Editor-in-Chief, and everyone at the Post adored her; she’d worked long and hard for the position, for over fifteen years, and Kenzie’s mother, Madeline, had advocated for her ability. Madeline was now almost entirely retired, but she would use her leverage at the Post when she felt it would do some good; helping to get Candice in as the EIC was one of her proudest achievements in her later years. Many believed Candice was the best thing that had ever happened to the Post, as she had pushed to champion the voices of women and people of color on her staff, bringing them in consistently on breaking stories and important editorials. Mackenzie loved working for her, but she was consistently intimidated by Candice’s poise, and longed to prove herself to Candice; prove that she hadn’t been hired at the Post just because her mother was a veteran.

“I think I got what I was aiming for,” Kenzie went on, thumbing her recorder. “There was an open bar at that party and tongues were flowing freely, and of course, nobody paid tiny ol’ me in a little babydoll dress any mind unless they were trying to hit on me. Which also happened,” she included, making a face. Candice made a face in return, sympathetically. “I know I can always count on you to weather the shitty stuff,” Candice replied. “You remind me so much of your mother sometimes.” Kenzie smiled brightly at that; to be compared to her mother was always a source of pride for her.

Candice was quiet for a moment, eyeing her with a strange expression. “You look absolutely radiant today, Kenzie. Did something happen?” Kenzie balked; was it that obvious? She thought she’d been hiding the glow she felt inside carefully, but the smile seemed to have pushed it out of her, made it stark. Candice continued to gaze at her with that strange expression, as if she was probing into Kenzie’s mind, searching for the source of Kenzie’s smile, the truth behind it.

“Just thrilled I got the info I wanted,” she replied, looking down at her Macbook, pressing it open, anxious to escape from the observant eye of her boss.

“Uh huh,” Candice she, eyebrows raising, grinning at her suspiciously. “Good work, Kenz.”

Kenzie sat down, blowing out a quiet, relieved breath as Candice walked away. Safe for now. She opened her laptop, finding the word document she’d started for her article, which she’d last worked on hours before the party, anxiously hoping she’d be ballsy enough to go. I sure fucking was, she thought, ballsy enough to go, ballsy enough to talk to Duncan Shepherd, gazing at me like I was made of chocolate, ballsy enough to let him buy me a drink, ballsy enough to let him kiss me, god, what a kiss, ballsy enough to go home with him, ballsy enough to fuck him again and again, ballsy enough to think I’m girlfriend material for a guy who has a Black AmEx, a private car with a driver, a penthouse, and more money than I could hope to earn in my entire life. A shiver touched the back of her neck despite the turtleneck. She remembered Duncan’s words this morning; remembered she’d agreed that it was okay for him to tell his mother about her. His mother was Annette fucking Shepherd. Her stomach dropped again. How will that ever go over well, she thought, biting her lip, clacking on the smooth keyboard of her Macbook, sticking her earbuds into the aux jack of her recorder, playing back the tidbits of conversation she’d quietly been recording as she sidled up, unnoticed, next to prominent Republican Senators and Congressmen. They’d all assumed she was a call girl (there were other call girls there, indeed) and that was fine; that was what made her unnoticeable to men who were busy talking about something that wasn’t sex. She imagined Annette Shepherd’s head spinning on her shoulders a la The Exorcist at Duncan’s admission and a laugh snorted out of her nose. She glanced over at her phone, having noticed its screen light up from the corner of her eye; Clairebear.

Clairebear: Kenzie, details!!!!! TELL ME EVERYTHING

Kenzie paused in writing her article (sources tell the Post that Senator Howell did indeed receive PAC funding from private donors for two consecutive election cycles, despite his repeated insistence to the contrary--), snatching up her phone and typing quickly, holding her breath.

Clairebear, it was the most perfect night I’ve ever had. He’d booked a private room for dinner, he looked so gorgeous, he ordered a $250 bottle of wine, I ate the most delicious duck I’ve ever had, HE HAS A FUCKING BOUGUEREAU ORIGINAL IN HIS STUDY, he ate me out on his desk!!!!!!!!!!!!!, he had put all these roses around his clawfoot bathtub and these candles and it was like a DREAM and I am REELING and I can’t even believe it was all real. Clairebear, he wants me to be with him. Be his girlfriend. I said yes.

Clairebear: Whoaaaaa whoa whoa, you said yes???? Already??? It’s been two days, Kenzie!!!

Clairebear, he wants to tell his mother about me. I told him yes. He said he wants to tell her because she was the most important person in his life until he met me, and now we both are. He’s going to tell her tonight.

Clairebear: His mother, you mean ANNETTE FUCKING SHEPHERD KENZIEEEEEE

Claire!!!!!!!! I have to do this. I have never felt this way about anyone before. I was thinking about Tyler and I never felt this way with him. I never thought I could feel this way about anyone, honestly. This is different. You said you trusted me, please trust me.

Kenzie sat back, setting the phone down, lost in thought for a moment. She hadn’t really thought about Tyler until that moment, but now that she had, she felt what she’d said to Claire was the truth. She and Tyler had been together for three years until she had graduated from Georgetown, and he was her first love; she’d lost her virginity to him, had thought she would marry him. He was going to medical school to become a pediatrician, and she had thought, for awhile, that she could be happy with him. But then she’d been hired at the Post, and he’d started a Residency, and they saw each other less and less, and eventually she felt like she didn’t know anything about him anymore; didn’t know what he liked to eat or what he looked like when he slept, didn’t know what he’d done on any given day. He’d wanted kids, too; that made sense, since he was going to be a children’s doctor. But she didn’t. Kenzie didn’t want kids, and she knew that, she had decided that a long time ago; she wanted to be a writer, she wanted to be a good journalist, she wanted to help people, but she didn’t want to be a mother. And so, they’’d broken up. Tyler had been tall and tan, with a soft face and dark hair, and he had been sweet to her when they held each other at night, and she was sure that someday, someone would make him very happy. But it wouldn’t be her.

But Duncan. Duncan was different. Her affection for Tyler had always been warm, even when she knew, finally, that he wasn’t the man she’d grow old with. But that firey feeling Duncan ignited in the center of her soul; that feeling was new, and it thrilled her and terrified her. I said I loved him while we fucked, lost in him, but I think it was true. I think I’m in love with him. Already. I love him. I love him so much it fucking hurts.

Clairebear: Kenzie, you know I do. I just want you to be happy and safe. You know I’m here for you no matter what. I’m here to help you weather the storm. Be the brave bitch I know you are, and don’t let Annette Shepherd give you any shit. And WHEN DO I GET TO MEET HIM The end of Claire’s text was accompanied by three steam-angry face emojis.

I won’t. I’ll pretend to be as brave as you think I am. Kenzie added the smiling face with waving hands emoji and the emoji with a closed eyes and downwards, exasperated expression. And I promise, you’ll meet him soon.

She set the phone down, turning it over. She had to finish this article. She’d spent the whole weekend in a dream, a daze of ecstasy the likes of which she’d never imagined, but dammit, she needed to fucking write this fucking article. She certainly had no plans to give up her writing career to be Duncan Shepherd’s housewife, no fucking way. Anyone who really loves you will always nurture your hopes and dreams for yourself, her mother said into her ear.

Shit, I have to tell Momby, she thought. If Annette Shepherd finds out, it’s only fair that Mom knows too. Come what may. But this is going to suck. She turned back to her keyboard, took another deep breath, and got back to writing.

-------

Kenzie was sitting on one of the long stone steps of the John Barry statue in Franklin Square, a spot where she often ate her lunch. She had a salad with strips of chicken with some balsamic dressing on her lap, with a little container of vegan dumplings sitting beside her can of lemon La Croix on the step, all of which she’d gotten from one of the lunch shops nearby that she frequented when she forgot (or didn’t have time, too busy wrapped in Duncan’s arms, she thought, biting her lip) to pack a lunch herself. Her black Kate Spade Margaux satchel (a gift from her mother when she’d gotten her position at the Post) sat on the step above, her phone in its gold case next to it, its face blank for now. Duncan hadn’t texted her yet since she’d left his penthouse five hours ago, his lips kissing her again and again, clutching her as she half-heartedly tried to break away (she hadn’t wanted to), and she was determined to wait until he did, even though her fingers itched to send him a message. She tore at one of the dumplings with her little fingers, tossing morsels to a fat pigeon who cooed around her feet, lost in thoughts of Duncan again, apprehension at telling her mother or imagining the cold eyes of Annette Shepherd’s judgement, Duncan again, his bright blue jeweled eyes, his hands, his finger on her clit, his black Oxford shirts, his kisses, his voice in her ear, low and sweet. Her phone trumpeted.

Mom: That should work for me, sweets. Is spaghetti and meatballs okay? I’ve been craving it. Can’t wait to see your beautiful face. Is everything at work okay?

She’d texted Madeline in line at the corner store, after she’d made it to a break point regarding her article; Mom, can we have dinner tonight? I need to talk to you about something. Everything’s fine, but it’s important to me. I get off around 5, I could take the train to you.

You know I love your spaghetti, Momby, she typed, using the special nickname she’d called her mother since she was barely old enough to speak. Work is fine, it’s not about work. See you around 6ish.

She set her phone down again, reaching for her can of seltzer; but the familiar trumpety text sound rang out from it again, startling her. Must be Momby again, she thought. She stared at her phone, pushing a forkful of chicken into her mouth. Duncan.

She dropped her plastic fork, grabbing at her phone, holding it up to her face, breathless.

Hi baby. Hope your day is going okay. I’m nervous about tonight, but I know when Mom meets you she’ll love you. Everything will be okay.

A pause, and another text appeared behind the first. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, I can’t concentrate at all today, I fucked up my taped interview three times.

One more pause. Wish I could go back to last night, looking at you in the candlelight. Wish I could wake up again with you in my arms, over and over. Want you on my desk again, looking down at me that way with my mouth on your clit…

Kenzie swallowed, heat rising at the back of her neck, and she pressed a hand against her mouth, unknowingly. Fuck. Duncan. She typed back.

I’m nervous too, I’m going to see my mom on the train after work. But everything will be okay, because we have each other now. And we’ll have so many days to wake up together, baby. My day’s okay, I’m almost finished with my article.

She hit send, hesitated, and typed again. I can’t stop thinking about you either. Last night was perfect, like a beautiful dream. I can’t stand the thought of sleeping without you tonight.

Duncan: Baby. I can’t stand it either.

Mackenzie blood was singing. The way he spoke to her, the way he looked at her, his gentleness, his strong beautiful hands all over her. How would she ever think clearly again? How would she ever be able to concentrate on anything else again? She felt wildly high, like she’d smoked an entire bowl in a few minutes. The endorphins in her brain were coursing through her, filling her with a euphoric daze. Her appetite slid away, her body buzzing with too much nervous energy to eat anymore.

Duncan: No matter how these conversations go tonight, please promise me I can see you tomorrow? I don’t think I can wait longer than that. I want to leave this fucking meeting right now and come to where you are and kiss you until I can’t breathe. I want to make you writhe with pleasure. I wanna make you feel so fucking good, angel…

Mackenzie typed quickly, her breath hitching, her stomach in knots.

Yes, I promise, tomorrow. I get off around 5. Maybe you could come to my place this time. I want you so much, I miss your mouth all over me, I miss your hands on me…

With a grin she imagined Duncan’s pants growing tight around his length in the middle of a meeting, and she couldn’t stifle the giggle that rose out of her. She liked the idea of him getting bothered and distracted in a professional place like that; it thrilled her that he was thinking of her, thinking of fucking her, while he was supposed to be poised and reserved. She wanted to make him feel like that all the time; she wanted him to want her like crazy. And that was the thing; he did. It was too wonderful to be true, too intoxicating to be real. She still couldn’t believe any of it. She couldn’t believe he was hers.

Duncan: Fuck, baby, yes. All over you. I can’t wait to see you, fuck. I feel like I can’t breathe now that you’re not here.

She sent him three kissy face emojis. Just try to be patient, baby, I’ll be in your arms again soon.

Duncan: Tomorrow I wanna give you a card to use for things you need. It’ll be in my name, but it’s yours to use whenever you want. I want you to use it to get some things to leave at my place for when you stay with me. I already made room in my closet for you. Is that okay? Will you, please? I want you to feel safe and comfortable and at home there. Get whatever you want. Get some beautiful things so I can admire you in them. Please?

Her breath shuddered again. Oh my fucking god, she thought. “I already made room in my closet for you.” That gorgeous walk-in closet; he made room for her to put her clothes there. Kenzie gripped her phone tightly, fingers white and bloodless. “Fuck,” she said. “Oh my god. Fuck.”

Okay, baby, she typed. That sounds so wonderful. She felt wildly nervous at the idea of having a credit card from Duncan Shepherd that he wanted her to use, but she remembered what he’d said to her when she balked at the wine; Don’t be afraid. This is my life. The endorphins were still coursing through her and she felt positively faint with their intensity. Duncan wanted her to leave things at his penthouse. The reality of the fact that Duncan Shepherd was her fucking boyfriend now was starting to sink in and she felt absolutely drunk on the realization.

Duncan: Good. I’ll text you later after I talk with Mom. I can’t wait to see you. I’m aching for you, angel.

Good luck, baby. I’m aching for you, too. She sent a broken heart emoji with the red lipstick stain emoji beside it.

Kenzie stood up, brushing imaginary crumbs from the front of the saddle-colored dress and her knee-high stockings. She tucked her phone carefully back into her satchel, gathering the food items in the plastic bag the store clerk had given her, and walked back to the Post building, her nerves on fire with thoughts of the magick that was falling all around her, like rain made of gold, since two nights ago.

------

Kenzie had hopped on the Metro at 5:16, now wearing the oversized Brooks Brothers wool cardigan (Duncan’s cardigan) over her turtleneck dress, wisps of hair around her cheeks again from the wind that had pushed her down the stairs to the underground platform at Metro Center Station. She held the sleeve to her nose, breathing in, earbuds pushing sound into her as the Blue Line train traveled toward Arlington, where her mother now lived alone in a warm brick Cape Cod style house on Fenwick Street, a house that Kenzie thought looked like a bed-n-breakfast and had encouraged her mom to make into one several times, now that she was retired with time on her hands. Kenzie’s thoughts were hazy and drifting, thinking of Duncan’s hands and eyes and lips again, the smell of his woodsy cologne, the music pressing into her--all the roses in the garden fade to black, oooh / oooh--when that familiar trumpet-y sound emanated into her ears. Text message.

Clairebear: Kenzie, oh my god. Did you see this? Take a deep breath. It’s on like four other sites now.

A link accompanied Claire’s text; buzzpopfeed.com. Oh, fuck, Kenzie though, blood freezing. A gossip website.

She clicked the link, her stomach turning over. SHEPHERD UNLIMITED HEIR DUNCAN SHEPHERD SPOTTED AT HIP DC FRENCH BISTRO WITH MYSTERY BEAUTY, the headline read. OH, FUCK, Kenzie thought, heart ramming up into her throat, scrolling down rapidly to the photos, eyes wide. Oh fuck, fucking shit fuck oh no.

There were three photos; the first one was of the two of them walking through the closely-set tables of the main dining room of Le Diplomate, towards where their private room was tucked towards the back; in it, Kenzie looked at Duncan shyly and he looked back at her, his expression casual, at least, it appeared that way, and their hands were tightly clasped; her face was totally visible, as if someone had taken the photo from the back of the room while they walked forward--a photo from a phone, no doubt. The plunging neckline of her dress was clearly visible too; her waves of long hair over one shoulder. I look really nice, she thought, with strange, removed relief. I guess if I have to show up on a gossip site, it’s better if the pictures aren’t terrible. Duncan, of course, looked wonderful; wildly handsome, his hair tossed perfectly back, his blue eyes shining out of the photo strikingly, his velvet jacket falling just-so despite the candid nature of the shot. God, he’s so beautiful. She felt absurdly distant from the photo, as if there were some other girl in it with him; it was all still so surreal.

She scrolled down a little more; the second photo was clearly their backs to the camera, wherever it had come from, moving out the front door; obviously taken as they were leaving in a dizzy rush, wrapped up in each other. Duncan’s hand was visible along the bottom of Kenzie’s back in it, pressing against her long wavy hair, his face leaning down to her; her face was turned up to him, and her smile, though only partially visible, was radiant. I look so happy, she thought. I am happy. I’m in love.

The last photo made her gasp; in it, she and Duncan were clearly embracing, and his lips were pressed to the incline of her neck, her eyes closed, her face serene; she remembered the moment as clearly as if it was happening again now, despite the wine having settled into her by then; he’d grasped her to him as he’d opened the car door for her, and pressed a kiss, like the immediate passion of Klimt’s painting of the same name, into her. She couldn’t imagine any onlooker mistaking the kiss for one of platonic affection; there was an aching sensitivity to it, a passionate depth of feeling that was never present for the embraces of friendship. It was a Kiss; running over with emotion, gold and glittering and weaved of transparent desire. You only kiss someone like that if you want them terribly, she thought, and knew it was obvious; that it would be obvious to anyone who saw the photo, including their mothers. Looking at the photo filled her body with electricity; god, his kisses. Knowing they were all for her now was a dream too precious to fully grasp.

She blew air carefully from her nose, willing herself out of the dizziness that washed over her; at least you were about to tell your mother anyway, she reasoned with herself. But a stone settled into the pit of her stomach, one made of a heavy sourness, comprised of apprehension; I’m not sure I was ready for literally everyone else to know, too, that’s all.

Too late now, I guess.

She replied to Claire. No. I hadn’t seen that. I’m literally on the train to Arlington to tell my mother about him, though. I was already. Good timing, I guess.

Clairebear: Kenzie, you look BEAUTIFUL in these photos. Stunning. No wonder he asked you to be his girlfriend. At least now I know he isn’t an idiot, at least, not entirely. He better hire you a bodyguard now.

Kenzie bit her lip nervously, reading Claire’s message a few times. She glanced up, noticing they were a stop away from Arlington Cemetery. Momby, I’m about five minutes from the Station, she sent to her mother. Her mother replied almost right away with a thumbs-up emoji and “ok” emoji, which meant “on my way!” in Kenzie/Momby speak.

Thanks for letting me know, Clairebear. I love you. He’s telling his mom soon too, over dinner.

Clairebear: You know I gotchu, bb. God, I’d love to see the look on Annette Shepherd’s face tonight. He better have nerves of steel. I love you too.

Kenzie tucked her phone into the long pocket of Duncan’s wool cardigan as the train rolled to a stop at the Arlington Cemetery Station; she stepped out onto the platform, spotting her Momby’s old beat-up Jeep Cherokee, waving to her and smiling. Madeline waved back, her rectangular glasses glinting in the low evening light; the ones she wore tonight were black, but she had ten different pairs, all the same style but in different colors. Kenzie hitched the straps of her satchel over her shoulder, sighing. Here goes fucking nothing, please be understanding tonight, Momby.

She slid into the beat-up passenger’s seat of the Jeep, fingers immediately finding the place where the seam had ripped out along the side, pressing into it; she had worked her fingers there for years, and it was her fault the orange-y stuffing was poking out. Her mother’s warm scent, like clean sheets dried in sunny air and a vague sweetness (it always made Kenzie think of wine), enveloped Kenzie as it always did as she leaned over and kissed the crow’s-foot at the corner of her mother’s eye. “Hi Momby,” she said, settling back into her seat, hand grasping around her mother’s resting on the steering wheel for a moment before putting it back into her lap.

“Hi sweet pea,” he mother said, putting her foot on the gas gently, pulling out of the parking lot behind a few other cars; she wore plum-dark lipstick and a dark indigo sweater, a black scarf around her neck; she had on her little gold hoop earrings, the ones she wore most often these days. The Platters’ Only You drifted soothingly from the stereo as she pulled onto the road, towards home. “I made the meatballs with extra garlic; most recipes call for a clove of garlic, which I find unbelievable, you need at least five for any savory food to taste decent. And you need to ward off the vampires, of course.”

Kenzie grinned at her mother. “Of course.”

“So what’s with you, Kenzie Lou.” Her mother yanked on the stick shift, the old Jeep rumbling at her. She didn’t look at her daughter, keeping her eyes on the road, but Kenzie could tell by the edge in her voice she wasn’t going to let her daughter stall for long.

“Ummmmm.” Kenzie hummed for a moment, flicking imaginary dirt from under her nails. “The past few days have been...really overwhelming. I went to that party and it was awful, Momby, the men there were terrible, their conversations, ugh, just horrible. But I did manage to record some incriminating stuff. But--” She hesitated. Madeline glanced at her, pressing her lips together in that familiar way.

“But what, sweet pea. Spit it out.”

“I...Momby. I met someone there.”

Her mother didn’t say anything, eyes staying on the road for a few beats. She glanced over at her daughter, her eyes peering over her squarish glasses, and Kenzie saw her eyebrows fall; saw a shadow falling over her mother’s face.

“Okay.”

“Ummm.”

Now that the moment seemed to be here, Kenzie felt unable to continue. It was one thing to imagine telling her mother about Duncan; it was another thing entirely to stare her mother in the face in person and tell her she was Annette Shepherd’s son’s fucking girlfriend.

“Please promise you won’t get upset.”

“Mackenzie. What are you talking about? You met someone. What does that mean?” Her mother’s tone was even, but hid a gaining hint of annoyance that only the well-trained ear of her daughter could pick up on. Kenzie had grown up having conversations like this with her mother; matter-of-fact and even, but tinged with a complete lack of tolerance for falsehood. “Promise I won’t get upset? I don’t even understand what I’m theoretically supposed to be upset about. You met a Democrat there? What are the odds.” She laughed a little at her own joke.

“I met Duncan Shepherd there.”

Her mother said nothing. The air seemed to go thick with the heaviness of the silence that settled between them. Her mother was thinking.

“Okay. And?”

“Momby. Don’t be mad. I wanted to tell you because...it’s important to me.” She mirrored Duncan’s words without fully realizing it.

“Tell me what? He has six fingers? He has horns?” Her mother mirrored Duncan’s words now, and it unnerved her. A strong wave of deja vu washed over her; time falling in on itself.

“I--we went out together,” she said, lamely, fumbling for words.

“‘Went out together’?” Her mother’s tone was rising very slightly, the edge becoming more apparent. “Went out? To where, their fucking chemical plant?”

“Momby.”

“Mackenzie.” Her mother turned onto Fenwick Street with a jerk, pressed the foot more firmly onto the gas pedal, the Jeep stuttering forward, the warm light of the house visible down the block. Kenzie fumbled her hands together again, reaching down to her pocket, fingers closing around her phone, as if Duncan could send strength through it to her hand. She knew inherently her mother understood already what she was trying to say, but she also knew her mother was going to force her to say it outloud. Madeline Stone was like that. You said what you meant, or you fucked off.

Her mother turned into the slender driveway paved with red bricks along either side of a stretch of blacktop. She turned the Jeep’s ignition off, yanking the key out with a measured amount of anger. Mackenzie listened to her mother let out a colossal sigh, a sort of exasperated groan.

“Mackenzie Louise. Just spit it the fuck out.”

“We’re together. Momby. I’m dating him. I thought you should know.”

“Jesus, Mackenzie!” Her mother spit the words out, slapping a hand against the steering wheel. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

Her mother slapped the door of the Jeep open, stepped down, purse clutched tightly in her hand, and slammed it behind her, making the old car shudder. Kenzie winced. Her mother stormed into the house, the big wood door swinging shut with a slight crash.

Kenzie sucked air into her lungs, holding her breath in, puffing out her cheeks. She pulled the phone out of her pocket and stared down at it, noticing it was blank of messages, wondering if Duncan was having as great a time as she was so far (haha). She copied the link from the text from Claire and pasted it into the message box under Duncan’s name in her texting app. She pressed send, and typed after it: Just told my mom and she isn’t taking it very well so far. I’m going to try to talk to her somemore over dinner. In the meantime, my friend sent me this. I thought you should know. She chewed her lip, hit send again, lowered her phone into her lap, took a deep breath. Kenzie opened the car door, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and trudged into her mother’s warm brick house, determined to convince the notoriously stubborn Madeline Stone that Duncan Shepherd was indeed good enough for her daughter.

#millory #body and soul #duckenzie #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd au #millory au #duncan x mackenzie #duncan shepherd x mackenzie stone #duncan x mallory #michael x mallory #collie #cody x billie #cody fern #billie lourd #ahs apocalypse #house of cards #house of cards au #my fic

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whatisthepointofyouhardy · 6 years

Text

About Time

Pairing: Ten x Rose AU Rating: General Words: ~3000 Beta: @doctortenny Note: Hey @lastbluetardis sorry you had to wait so long. Here is your @dwsecretsanta gift. The prompt was “I'm a sucker for a soulmates AU story. Maybe this could be a friends to lovers/friends to soulmates story? They're friends first then after they realize they're in love, their soulmark clicks into place.” Not sure if that’s what you meant, but I really hope you enjoy this. Find me on AO3 @ dociro

Every person has a soulmate. Some people know who their soulmate is since childhood, some meet their matches at school or university and other people have to wait a bit longer. Eventually everyone is matched.

When Rose was a small child she dreamed of meeting her one true love. Every night after going to bed she laid there and imagined how they will look like. Will the person be younger or older than her. What colour will their eyes be? And hair?

The soulmark, a clock on her wrist that was only visible for her and after meeting her match was meant to change into the soulmate’s name, was showing a remotely short amount of time, which meant that Rose wouldn’t have to wait very long to meet the perfect person for her. She should meet them a few months after her 10th birthday.

She was happy when she was big enough to understand that it wouldn’t be Mickey. He was okay, she liked to play with him and it was always fun when he and his granny visited them for dinner. Rose didn’t have a brother or sister, but she treated Mickey like one, so it was huge relief when she realised that he can’t be her soulmate.

She was also happy when Jimmy Stone moved to her neighbourhood and her soulmark was still showing two years to go. All the girls on the estate had a crush on Jimmy, but Rose didn’t like him. He was rude, was often making fun of her and her friends, and he was getting into fights with other boys. She couldn’t imagine spending her life with someone like him.

When the day finally arrived two months and 5 days after her birthday, Rose was beyond excited. She wore her favourite pink dress, asked her mum to plait her hair in a fancy way and decided to go out. It’s easier to meet someone outside, right? She sat on a swing and waited checking alternate her soulmark that was showing less than twenty minutes now and the surroundings that were worryingly calm so far. She was trying to be calm telling herself that there's still a lot of time for the person to come, but it was getting more difficult with every second.

When her clock showed 10 seconds to the meeting, she felt tears in her eyes. She wiped them and turned to see if someone was coming, but there was no one there. She looked at her wrist again

00:00:05

00:00:04

00:00:03

00:00:02

00:00:01

Rose quickly looked up again, but like for the last twenty minutes no one was there. The tears were furiously going down her cheeks now, she looked at her wrist and the numbers... didn’t change? The soulmark was still showing 00:00:01. How was it possible? She never heard of someone who didn’t meet their soulmate. Sure, there were people who for example, met and together decided that they don’t want to spend their lives together, but never that the soulmates didn’t even get to meet each other. It wasn’t that the soulmate didn’t appear, her clock just stopped. It froze at one second till the meeting. Was her soulmark broken? Does that mean she is broken? She doesn’t deserve to spend her life with the person that should be perfect for her?

The tears started streaming down her face with even more force. She jumped of the swing and run in the direction of a nearby park. There was a huge tree, that was growing a bit from the main path. It was usually very calmly there because, for some reason, people preferred different parts of the park. Rose liked going there when she got into a fight with her mum or when she was sad and didn’t want anyone to find her.

She was surprised when she came to the tree and saw a boy more or less her age sitting there already. He was playing mindlessly with a blade of grass. His hair was a mess and he looked very long and skinny.

“You are sitting in my place.” She said without thinking. The boy looked up and Rose saw that his brown eyes are red from crying.

“Sorry, didn’t know I can’t sit here,” he said while wiping his eyes quickly. “I’ll go, sorry.” He wanted to stand up, but Rose stopped him.

„No, wait!” The boy fell back to the grass at Rose’s shout. “I am just very sad and wanted to be alone and I was very surprised that I met someone here,” she swallowed and looked into his moist eyes then continued. “But it looks like you are sad as well and it was rude of me, because I don’t own this place and everyone can sit here, so maybe we can sit here together if you want?”

The boy nodded and smiled slightly. Rose smiled back at him and then sat on his right side.

They just sat there silently for some time. Watching the other person when they thought the other was not looking. After half an hour or so she heard the boy asking her silently. “What made you sad?”

Rose was surprised to hear the question. They sat there quietly and she hoped they won’t talk to each other. She wasn’t sure if she wants him to know why it was the worst day of her life.

“Sorry,” he started. “You said you wanted to be alone, you probably don’t want to talk about it.”

“Nah, that’s okay,” he was nice and in some sort of bad situation as well. She figured she doesn’t have to tell him everything. “I was meant to meet someone but they never turned up. I really was looking forward to this meeting.”

The boy nodded with understanding. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. What about you?”

The boy smiled sadly. “I just moved in and because all of this missed something very important.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, thanks.” After a few minutes of silence he spoke again. “What’s your name?”

“Rose Tyler,” he was nice, she thought that maybe they could become friends and at least one good thing would happen that awful day. “And you?”

“I’m James Noble,” he smiled and gave her his hand. “It’s nice to meet you despite these unfortunate circumstances.”

Rose smiled back at him and nodded.

After that they started talking and getting to know each other. Just like Rose, James was 10 years old too. It turned out that he will join her class next semester. He moved from Scotland with his family because his dad got a job at one of London’s universities. His dad was a well known Astrophysicist and James would like to be like him in the future. He had a sister who was his twin - she was 25 minutes older than him and in his opinion they looked nothing alike.

It started getting darker and they realised they spent most of the day just sitting and talking.

“I think I have to go. My parents will be worried, which way are you heading?”

“There. She nodded to the left. I live on the Powell Estate and you?”

“Same way. Can I go with you?”

“Sure.”

They spent the short walk talking some more. It was real fun talking to James. He knew a lot of things and it seemed that his mouth was never stopping, but he wasn’t rude and always asked Rose about her opinion on the topics they talked about. He made her forget at least a bit that the day was a disaster.

“That would be me,” said Rose when they approached her block. “I’m really glad I met you today.” She smiled at him.

“Me too,” he scratched the back oh his neck. “Listen as I said we just moved to the city. I don’t really know anyone here. I was wondering if you would like to meet again? Show me around?”

“Yeah, I would like that.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I had a good time today. Even if the start was a bit dramatic. Meet me here tomorrow at 10?”

“I’ll be here. Till tomorrow, Rose Tyler.” He grinned maniacally at her and then run away.

Rose giggled at him and went upstairs bracing herself for the conversation with her mum. Even though, the soulmark was only visible to the soulmates, Jackie knew perfectly well when Rose was meant to meet her soulmate, because since Rose learned numbers she was constantly talking about it and counting the days.

When Rose saw Jackie’s smiling face she started crying again. Jackie immediately took her in her arms. “What is it Rose? Did they do something to you?”

Rose shook her head and tried to calm herself a bit. “They never showed. I... I thought it’s impossible, but my clock just stopped at one second to go and it’s stuck like that from hours now.”

“Oh baby. Go to you room, change into something comfortable and then we will sit and you’ll explain everything to me. I’ll make us a cuppa and come back to you.” She kissed Rose’s brow and went to the kitchen.

Rose told Jackie the story from the beginning. Her mum admitted that she never heard of anything like that before, but said that she was sure that Rose would meet her soulmate eventually. Rose also told her about James and that he was also sad for some reason, but she thinks that they both managed to make their day a bit better.

——

Rose meet James the next day and they explored the city. She showed him her favourite places in the neighbourhood. She took him to the best ice cream shop, where she made fun of him, because Rose was never in a ice cream shop that offered more flavours and yet all three scoops of James’ portion were banana. Then she took him to a small book shop she thought James would enjoy, she knew they had quite a big collection of science books, she was right, James loved it. At the and she took him for chips and fish. They ordered the food and went to the park to sit under their tree. Rose decided that it’s only fair for it to be ‘their tree’ now.

This situation repeated every day till the end of summer break. Sometimes Donna joined the pair of them, but mostly it was her and James exploring new places and making their friendship stronger.

Just as he told her the first day, when the school started he joined her class. He was the smartest kid in the class, but he was also very friendly and never tried to make himself look better than the others. He often helped other students with the stuff they didn’t understand, he helped Rose too. In return she helped him with the artsy stuff because he had two left hands when it came to art.

The years went by and when they both turned 16, Rose realised that she is developing a proper crush on James. He was no longer that gangly boy. He grew up and was really tall now, he was still skinny, but also well built (they went to the pool a few times during summer, it’s good that it was really hot on these days, Rose could blame the blush that appeared on her face when she first saw him without the t-shirt on the weather.) His hair was still a mess, but it seemed that he was now putting an effort to make it look like a mess. She realised that her best friend was drop dead gorgeous and apparently other girls saw it too. The girls who still didn’t meet their soulmates tried to get to know James better, but he didn’t pay them any attention. It made Rose happy, not that he ever showed any interest in more than friendship with her, but at least she got to spend time with him.

They never talked about their soulmarks, he never asked about hers and she figured he doesn’t want to talk about it. Honestly, it was easier that way, she felt happy about this unspoken agreement. She knew that their relationship will have to change one day, because long time ago she came to terms with that she is the only person with a broken soulmark, but for now she was happy.

A few years later they graduated from high school and were admitted to university. Rose was going to study History of Art and James Physics. As they were accepted to the same university they figured they will rent a flat together. And so after years of friendship trey became flat mates. They enjoyed living with one another. They prepared dinner together every Friday, went out with friends on Saturday and had film nights on Sundays.

Rose was positively sure that she was in love with James by now. On his side nothing changed, he still saw her only as his friend, but just like years ago she was okay with it.

Sure, they snuggled on the couch every night talking about their day, he hugged her randomly and sometimes kissed her on the brow, but that’s what best friends do, right?

During their second year at university, their friend Jack invited them to his birthday party. It was organised in a club in the city centre, Jack loved a good party and had a lot of friends, so the place was loud and packed.

Rose had a long week and hoped to have a good time and it started out like that. Her and James got a drink and talked at the bar, then he asked her if she wanted to dance. She always enjoyed dancing with him, so she agreed and they joined the other people on the dance floor. The club was full and they had to dance really close to each other, and honestly, Rose loved it. After a few songs she told James that she has to go to the toilet. He nodded and told her that he would order more drinks for them.

When after a few minutes she came back and scanned the club looking for James she couldn’t believe her eyes. He was at the bar, but he wasn’t alone. He was there with Reinette, an exchange student from France. When they first met Rose tried to be nice to her, even though since day one she was flirting with James and with girls like that it was always difficult for Rose to be nice. Then she started being mean to Rose, probably just because she was friends with James and spent most of the time with him and he was ignoring Reinette’s attempts to interest him in her. Or at least that’s what she thought, because now they were kissing next to the bar, where everyone could see them. Rose felt tears coming to her eyes, she tried to stop them while pushing through the crowd to the exit. When she finally got there she walked to the side of the club, far from the groups of people standing in front of it and let the tears flow. She couldn’t believe that happened. He never showed interest in any person, she knew it would happen one day, but still wasn’t quite prepared.

She was sobbing quietly when from behind her she heard his voice. “Oh Rose, I was looking for you. Please look at me, don’t cry. What happened?” He hugged her tightly to his chest.

He had no idea. “It’s nothing, that’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not, please darling don’t cry.”

His words cleared Rose’s mind a little and she freed herself from his embrace. “Please, don’t call me like that. I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about it.” She whispered.

“What,” James frowned. “My girlfr... Rose you know I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh stop acting, James. I saw you and

Reinette kissing. I’m just sad you didn’t tell me.”

“Wha... no, Rose! She is certainly not my girlfriend. I didn’t even kiss her, she came to me, I told her to leave me and said that I’m waiting for you and then she started kissing me. I freed myself right after and told her to never talk to me again. I’m sorry it made you sad. I don’t care about her at all.”

Rose bite her lip. “It looked a bit different from where I was standing. I... it really made me sad, I thought we talk about all of the important things and you never told me you you are interested in Reinette.”

“Rose, how could I be interested in her when I already love you?” His eyes grew impossibly big and he run his hand through his hair.

Rose’s eyes filled with tears again. “Really?”

James swallowed and nodded. “Hundred percent sure.”

Rose grinned and said. “Well that’s good, because I love you too, James Noble.”

Right after she finished the sentence they both gasped and a shiver went through their bodies. They both looked at their wrists. The clocks that were showing 00:00:01 from years now changed and finally showed them the names of the perfect person.

“I can’t believe it. It’s not broken. It’s you.” Rose grinned, happy tears were now flowing down her face. When she looked up, she saw James had tears in his eyes too.

“I so wanted it to be you,” he whispered, then he cupped her check and lowered his face to hers. “If I knew it was all I needed to do, I would tell you how much I love you years ago, Rose Tyler.” Then he caught her lips in a kiss. They kissed for a long time ignoring the whistling and happy shouting from their other friends.

“About time.” Shouted Jack with a smile on his face. About time, exactly.

#dwsecretsanta #ficandchips #lastbluetardis #Ten x Rose #dw AU #DW fic #fic: About Time #Ania tries to write #really hope you like it #you are like the Soulmates AU queen #I'm scared lol

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feelsgoodink · 6 years

Text

Their First Dance ( Klaus Mikaelson x Reader )

Two hands placed firmly on either side of your hip, a metal ring with a deep blue stone on one finger on the dominant hand, and leading up from the appendages, crawling closer and closer to shoulders that met the neck, till they finally found their way to a smiling, content face.

And his eyes were bright and shining, glimmering like a ocean reflecting a daytime sky, and around the blue was a nagging, itchy pink where the moment had brought tears to his eyes. His sandy hair was gelled back, taking away their usual curls and replacing that with a neat, organized set of waves.

A violin was playing something classical and way before your time, but it was beautiful and had a meaning behind it that you could feel and relate too.

You had never been happier, not once had you ever been so genuinely satisfied with you felt, without question, without doubt. Only love.

Klaus, dressed in a suit and tie, with a red rose tucked into the pocket of his overcoat, twirled you around and dipped you to the floor, sweeping you from your feet and meeting your face to his. The white dress you were wearing prevented you from getting so close that your bodies touched completely, although the passion in his face revealed more than what currently the collision of hips could.

"How does this make you feel?" The question that started it all, it sounds off in your head as if he has not spoken it in real time. You let your upward curving lips answer for you as he lifts you back up and takes a step backward for your to step forward. "Beautiful." You told him, and he nodded knowingly.

"It's okay to wake up, darling." He responded. He twirled you outward. The song was ending. "What?"

"Wake up." Klaus told you. His voice was getting higher.

"Klaus?" You asked.

"Wake up!" Caroline Forbes shouted, and you let out a gasping breath. Your eyes opened wide and you raised up, with one hand gripping onto your chest. You were breathing heavily, although it felt more like a breakable habit rather than a necessity.

"Thank God, I thought you were dead! I woke up and Tyler told me you had tried to kill yourself and I just-" Caroline was now holding you by your shoulders, as if she was cradling you like a child that had been left in her care, that had fallen and scraped her knee. She looked down to your stomach and saw the blood stains, and noticed that they were dry, and that the bleeding had stopped- healed.

Klaus had done as you asked and compelled her to forget. And Tyler had told her that you had simply attempted suicide? Where was he now? You saw that Caroline was in obvious distress, and though you knew it had so much more to do with than just you, you felt as if she might have some sort of concern for you.

Finally, instead of letting anger take the place of your hurt, you simply felt a sympathy for her. Right as you were trying to figure out what words to say next, how to explain, you had a nagging thought. If you did not feed soon, you would die.

"Caroline.. I need blood." You said, abruptly, with no explanation, as something in you was simply telling you that you were hungry and that you needed it. Her baby blues widened as she finally hit the revelation.

"You... you died with vampire blood in your system.." Caroline quietly confirmed. She gulped at the barely burned sunlight of midday.

Suddenly, the walls began to close in on Caroline Forbes. She knew that in the next few hours to come that things were going to change, very rapidly, and although she had so much to worry about, including the life of herself, Caroline focused on Tyler.

If Klaus got out before they got the cure, Klaus was going to kill everyone around them- and also, that included Elena, Stefan, Damon, and Jeremy. After all, they had killed Elijah. And Tyler, Tyler was the reason Klaus was going to be alone forever he had unsired all his hybrids.

But Klaus was no longer going to be alone and it had already occurred to him that he wouldn’t be. A moral apocalypse of some sorts had stirred in him as he sat caged like a bird, watching as the love of his life lay dead waiting to wake up and begin to live forever with him.

Klaus, since he knew your love for your family despite your differences, would not kill Jeremy and Elena. Even if they tried to come at him with the cure, simply because now he had leverage. Now he had you.

His crystal blue eyes shimmered with delight as he watched Caroline panic, knowing that he could wager this to his advantage, he shot you a knowing look and prayed that you would recieve it. You understood completely.

“Caroline, I’m going to make an offer.” Klaus told her, calling from the living room. With her hands in her hair pulling at the ends, the blonde turned around and furrowed her light eyebrows at the original.

“If Tyler brings (Y/N) someone to feed on, and leaves town within five minutes afterwards, I’ll consider that a head-start for him.” What that translated too was; I’m not going to kill Tyler Lockwood. Caroline almost grinned, but only shakily nodded, not thinking for a second about the innocent human life that this involved.

“He has to hurry.” Caroline paused, calling Tyler inside. Tyler was on the phone with Elena, who had heard the whole thing, and even though she had just found out the truth about there being only one dose of the cure, was on her own boat heading home. Everyone was right, there was nothing she could do right then, so her best choice was to go and ‘save’ her sister.

You furrowed your eyebrows angrily and shook your head. "Elena's coming back? Not with the cure, right?" You asked, now worried that they in fact did get the cure and we're coming to use it on Klaus.

"She won't use it on herself, and I won't let her near Klaus, I won't!" You told Caroline, now gripping her shoulder. But you were feeble and weak with hunger. You began to cough.

"Get her someone to feed on!" Klaus commanded from the living room, and Tyler immediately left the room. He knew the curse would be lifted within the next hour.

Caroline peered down at you in disbelief. "(Y/N), why do you care so much about him? Even if Elena had the cure, she would give it to you."

You paused. "I don't want the cure. I don't want to be human."

"You don't think you want to be human but did you ever think that for a moment that just because you're in love your doing what Klaus would want you to do? Think the way he wants you to think? It's like a sire bond without blood, and its sickening." Caroline was now in the floor with you, your frail, sickly body was cold and sweaty with the starving illness taking over.

"I've spent days upon days day-dreaming, nigh ts awake pining the thought of being as lucky as Elena or Stefan or Damon, even the nights where I thought I hated Klaus. Just because Elena isn't cut out for this doesn't mean I'm not. I'm not my sister."

"That's right." A voice of a higher pitch and a more solemn tone stepped through the door, wearing a scarf and several more layers. Elena was standing in the door way. "I was already on my way back." She explained to Caroline.

"You're right, (Y/N). You're not me. That's why I can't sit back and watch you turn into something you don't really want to be." Elena told you, kneeling by your side and grabbing your hand. You'll pulled it away from her.

"Why is it that all of you think that you know a single damn thing about what I want? What I've ever wanted? All my life, you've always been the one that got everything, because everything you wanted was so within reach for you. You were always so practical and pretty and perfect and you had everything you wanted because what you wanted was what everyone else wanted; to see you in the spotlight. On a pedestal. Cheer captain, white-picket fences. And then, you go off the handle and get our parents- fuck that, MY parents killed, and suddenly you're an entirely different person?" You couldn't take this anymore, you couldn't stay silent any longer.

Elena appeared shocked as she listened to your words. "I was the one who read books, wrote stories, dreamed of better places. I was the one who wanted more, who wanted fantasy and mystery and danger and you know who got it? You did. And you've taken it for granted. You've never taken anything for yourself because it's always been given to you, Elena. Its someone else's turn."

Tyler came back into the room with a boy who had never been more confused in his life; he was ginger, with freckles on his face and bright green eyes that were wide open with fear and confusion. You tried your hardest not to stare into for too long.

"(Y/N), please.. don't do this." Elena cautioned. You watched as Tyler pushed the boy forward. Klaus gave Lockwood a nod and within the second, he was gone.

You grabbed the boy by his shoulders and felt his soft, youthful skin lower in the force of your grip. You sniffed, wafting his scent to your nose and smelling past the middle school axe shower and into the aroma of being human, and it had never smelt better and was unfamiliar.

While the others watched in horror, Klaus watched in amusement, astounded by your movements and abrasiveness. For a moment, he too questioned if this is what you wanted, though he knew that it was too late to go back now.

"(Y/N), if you do this, I'll never forgive you." Elena told you, in one last effort to get you to stop.

Your veered your new fangs into a smile and glared up at her. "Never is a long time, Elena. We'll just have to wait and see." You bit down on the stranger's neck, and felt electricity in your blood stream automatically.

In the next few moments you would lose yourself in the sweet, succulent taste of the plasma, it was nectar to you. It was thrilling, exhilarating. You pulled away, you realized you had killed the boy.

"(Y/N), you killed him." Elena muttered, stepping back and taking in your appearance. Blood dripped from your lips and trickled down to your neck.

A clock chimed. With a raised eyebrow, Klaus took a step out from the living room. The curse had been lifted. "You'd better run girls. I've got a couple new tricks I wanna try out." You told your sister and Caroline. Appalled, they darted toward the door.

Klaus turned to you and started to laugh, his hands snaked around your waist and twirled you euphorically. "My love, that was brilliant!" He chortled, setting you back down. You put your hand to his jaw and brought his lips to yours, bringing him into a kiss.

"Did you really plan to kill them, (Y/N)?" Klaus asked, inquisitively. He could not care either way.

You shook your head. "Of course not. But I'm going to make them think that we would. Wouldn't want them spoiling the fun, right?"

But what you and Klaus neither realized, was that Elena too knew how to put on an act, and she was not going to let her sister become something so dark and evil- not over her dead body.

Which, time and time again- could be arranged.

TO BE CONTINUED.

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