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toutvatoujoursbien · 2 months

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A (relatively new-ish) fan’s perspective on Luke Newton

(I wrote my very first Tumblr post last month and now I think I’ve chosen the path of essayist/suffering. I’ve also been writing this on and off for four weeks because it seems like every other day, something new pops up or the fandom has a meltdown of some kind. I’m not even sure if it’s worth posting, but I think, like my first one, I needed to get this out of my system in order to TRY and return to being a normal person - which is still unlikely because Lukola has me in a chokehold. NOTE: I finished the majority of this on July 19, before all the weird-ass stuff happened over the weekend, and haven’t had the chance to post until now. Anyway, this is going to be long, full of ramblings that are hopefully organized in a cohesive manner, and all opinions and observations are my own. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings, okay?)

I’ve really struggled to understand why the whole Bridgerton S3 and Luke Newton PR stunt has embedded itself into my brain the way it has. Like, how could the actions of someone I don’t know still be lingering in my thoughts even now, weeks later? After my first post, I realized that there was more to the entire LN situation than I was previously unaware of - so I started digging. None of this information is hidden or secret, it was publicly available and therefore the fans picked up on it quickly. But I, personally, DID NOT KNOW ANY OF IT, going into S3, and I think that’s why everything has hit me like a ton of bricks. So I thought, surely I’m not the only new(ish) fan who has suffered from this emotional and mental whiplash?

I really, really, really loved Luke’s portrayal of Colin and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching all the interviews and behind-the-scenes from S3. I would also love to continue to support him as he builds his acting career. However, I didn’t have a full picture, which unfortunately includes a history of making - what I think are - poor and questionable decisions in his personal life that he also allowed to bleed into his professional one. And that’s how I find myself struggling with the dichotomy of everything I’ve seen him do during Bridgerton promo vs. lots of other actions he’s taken. So let’s talk about it, okay? (Importantly, I reserve the right to update my current opinions as more information comes to light.)

I want it to be clear that I am in no way hating on Luke. Part of my struggle with writing this post has been because I don’t want this to be misconstrued as more hate being thrown his way. That is not my intention, at all. Seeing “fans” over the past few weeks absolutely rip into him on social media has been heartbreaking and deeply unsettling. This type of behavior is ugly and nasty and no one should be subjected to it. Full stop. As others have said: it’s okay to have thoughts and criticisms (criticism ≠ hate), but please keep it to the appropriate corners of the Internet. I think you can admire/support a famous person, but you should also be able to call them out on their conduct, particularly the stuff that happens in public. Blind love/following and putting people on pedestals is never going to allow any room for reflection and/or growth. I think there is a LOT of nuance in the whole discussion around him, his past actions, his handling of things now, and what’s in store for the future.

Okay, deep breaths & continue after the cut (because this got… wordy).

Some brief background on how I got here: As noted previously, I’ve been a longtime fan of both Polin and Bridgerton, first with the book series and then with the tv show. But, for whatever reason, I never even thought about jumping into the fandom until earlier this year, in anticipation of Season 3. I will say that I have been delighted with Nicola and Luke and their work as Polin from the start, but with the nature of the show being what it is, I just didn’t pay as much attention until it was their turn to lead. I watched some behind the scenes and promos occasionally, but not consistently. It wasn’t until around the February/Valentine’s event that I started to take notice and then I fell down the rabbit hole in April (literally, figuratively, and spiritually 😅). I say all this to illustrate that up until the spring, I was part of the General Audience, though admittedly with a bias towards viewing Bridgerton favorably. Another factor is that I got most of my fandom content from Twitter (again, I’m never going to call it X), with the occasional peek into Instagram and Tumblr. Yes, Twitter is a hellscape. But I am also lazy and only have so much time to scroll online. And since everything seems to get cross-posted everywhere, it was easiest for me to keep mostly to one social media site to consume all my Bridgerton content. But I point this out because I now see this as an error on my part. Why? Because I wasn’t getting a well-rounded picture of the situation around L, N and S3. Remember my own self-admitted social media bubble? Sigh. The fast pace of tweets meant I could blink-and-miss something on Twitter, unless it trended (or really riled the fans up). It’s a breeding ground for the hyperbolic and for discourse, in general. Twitter also seems to be divided into the Luke Haters (let’s be real, most of their “reasoning” is just uncalled for, vile hate) and the Luke Apologists (who have the tendency to exhibit, imo, some gross-excuse-all-his-behaviors-he-never-does-anything-wrong rhetoric). So it wasn’t until I started noticing chatter of Luke’s past actions that it prompted me to start looking deeper into what others have witnessed and noted online, particularly on this platform. Again, it wasn’t like I was trying to find some sort of hush-hush subject matter. Instead, I rather got the impression that those established in the fandom had a sort of unspoken agreement to keep these discussions to DMs and group chats - mostly as to not detract from Polin’s upcoming season. (But seriously, great of y’all to keep it locked down, however it would have really helped a girl out all the times I was like, “why is everyone so mad?” 🤣) And a lot of things started clicking into place once I knew more of the details. So I’ve put together a list of high-level topics/points that I didn’t know before, being relatively new to the fandom. Perhaps this can help other fans who are trying to wrap their heads around the various discussions occurring now and may feel clueless.

One more thing, HUGE shout-out to @jack4132cf for giving me a concise timeline of… well, everything I apparently missed last year+ when I wasn’t part of the fandom 😆🙌🏼 They’ve really helped me fill in the blanks (of which I had many)! Also, darcytaylor has a great 3-part deep dive, and I’ve read (and backtracked) through most of herejusttosufferalong and allsortsofthingsmpov ’s blogs, among others. They’ve provided a place for differing opinions and perspectives to be voiced in a respectful manner (unless you’re a troll, in which any clap-back is justified). I may not agree with everyone’s take, but I firmly believe that hearing views from others has helped shape my own thought process.

Let’s begin, shall we?

The Hot Fuck Boy Summer™️ (which I’m trademarking as HFBS)

Bridgerton S3 wrapped up filming in March 2023 and then Luke starred in the play The Shape of Things, which was in production from around May-July 2023. At some point prior to all this, Luke and his previous gf broke up - this is reported on by several media outlets in March, as well as “news” that he joined the dating app Raya. This is where, I think, his questionable behavior starts to raise eyebrows. It’s not the fact that he’s dating - I feel like fans gave him a pass since he just ended a long-term relationship (Enter the mentality some had of “let him have his hot boy summer!”). No, I think the issue is that he was not at all private or discreet about it.

Remember when I said I think he let choices in his personal life bleed over into his professional one? Yeah, there were multiple glaring examples happening in real time last year, and the fandom took notice. He started publicly following certain users on IG and liking their posts, (unfortunately) many of whom were young, female models and dancers, under the age of 23. He (foolishly) followed his private account on his public profile, and then tried to backpedal. He engaged with some online flirtations that didn’t sit well with the fans (cough, E. Bear, cough), and then tried to backpedal. Mind you, all of this occurred and at some point later on, it’s then also decided that he’s going to move (aka, clean up) his social media presence to be more work-related. My point is:

Luke was digitally messy and left a trail (several, really).

In conjunction with the HFBS, we also have:

& That Friend Group

Ah yes, the “boys.” Look, clearly I don’t know his friend group in real life, so all I can speak on is the image they give off based on their public social media accounts. And I, personally, am very unimpressed with what they’ve chosen to share with the world. My general perception is that L’s group of friends love to have a good time and show it off; seem to have an large amount of influence over him, particularly R; and can been seen as reaping the benefits of his success. He has discussed before how he likes to be generous with his friend group. During HFBS, they posted all about their vacations, on public accounts, and tagged Luke in them. They posted thirst trap photos and tagged Luke in them. They took quite a few boat trips and, once again, tagged Luke in them. Are we sensing a pattern here?

His friend group was also digitally messy and left trails.

I am in no way saying his friends aren’t allowed to post whatever they want on their accounts. It’s totally within their rights to have a good time and capture it on their pages, and I completely understand the desire to only show the “memorable” and “fun” stuff on social media. I just think it was short-sighted to NOT consider that Luke’s fans would be interested in seeing what he was up to with his friends - and you know that people will always, always dig around on the Internet. Maybe this was some kind of fun game to them? Maybe they enjoyed the attention? Maybe they didn’t think it was that big a deal? Who knows? But I think, in hindsight, it would have been safer and smarter to not have all this documented and out in the open, imo.

My other understanding is that around the time the break up was “officially announced,” Luke’s ex began dating someone who was 22/23 at the time. His childhood friend R also ended a relationship last year and began dating a young woman around 22/23. Do I think R may have encouraged Luke in a certain direction dating-wise, especially considering that A was/is a friend of S, R’s new gf? Do I wonder if this was all to get back at J for starting a relationship with a new young thing, too? It seems likely, but of course this is all conjecture on my part. This is giving “high school drama” vibes, being played out in public, which is very, very unfortunate.

However, Luke was ultimately the person who did not ask his friends to refrain from posting him on social media, as well as publicly following young women on socials and not being very discreet about his dating life, which is what raises my eyebrows…

The Age Gap Thing

Let’s just address this here and now. Remember, these are my opinions, each individual is entitled to their own, and I hope everyone takes a moment to really think and evaluate how they feel about the matter! I’m going to be very transparent and upfront about this:

I do not like the age gap between L and many of the young women he was showing interest in last year.

I’m viewing this from the lens of someone who is an elder Millennial and female. For me, personally, my dislike has more to do with: 1) A's age when they started dating/the age she is now (22/23); but more specifically 2) the power dynamics at play.

I don’t have a problem with age gaps overall, because I believe that love can find us at many stages in life. However, I’m also of the opinion that a person 30+ should not be dating a someone in their early 20s. I’m not going to use the whole “the brain hasn’t been fully developed” argument, though valid. My issue has more to do with where an individual is in terms of life experience, emotional and overall maturity, and (this ties in with #2) financial stability within age gaps. In general, I find, say, a 45-year-old dating a 37-year-old to be on more even footing, which becomes even more so as you age. But a 22-year-old, presumably fresh out of college/university and about to embark on their next steps into adulthood, is just not in a position to date someone in their 30s. To me, your early 20s are the time for you to gain all the things I mentioned above (life experience, maturity, financial stability that is independently your own) as well as make plenty of mistakes. And that’s not to say any of that stops once you hit 30, or beyond! I know I’m constantly evolving and learning more about myself and my place in the world as each year passes.

My deeper discomfort comes from the inherent power dynamics and power imbalance between L/A. Of course L has lot more of the power in terms of money, resources and status; they are not equal partners. This article here (https://jill.substack.com/p/the-problem-with-men-who-date-much) illustrates these points much better than I can; I think it’s worth the read.

Is he allowed to date whomever he so chooses? Yes. Are people allowed to feel the ick with the current choice/choices he made last year? Also yes. Does it entitle anyone to post nasty comments on his social media? Absolutely not. I may not personally like his choice, but it’s ultimately his to make.

NOTE: I also want to address right here that, to me, his behavior isn’t “predatory” or whatever twisted narrative some folks are trying to push. Honestly, I think he’s gone the complete opposite direction from the type of women his ex and N are because it might be less complex/more simple both in terms of emotions and permanence. But obviously, pure speculation on my part.

Antagonistic A

At some point during HFBS, L meets A and she becomes a part of That Friend Group. During Fall 2023, there are many trips to Soho Farmhouse and other posts made to R/S/A’s social media accounts. A in particular made quite a few posts that could be interpreted as her wanting to show she was with L, but never actually including him fully (these are the arms/legs photos that fans talk about and side-eye). Some of these types of posts have since been conveniently deleted. L and That Friend Group celebrate NYE24 at Soho Farmhouse, where everyone but him share photos and videos. On Jan 2, a photo of L and A kissing was circulated on social media - they got caught in the video of the band playing. Also at the beginning of this year, A - for whatever fucking reason - started tagging along on various work trips and had a tendency to post TikTok’s from various hotel bathrooms. Again, insinuating that she’s with L but not outright showing it.

The “InStyle stunt” - end of March/early April, there is a trip to Los Angeles which A posted stories and photos on IG. It’s later revealed that L was going to be featured in InStyle Magazine’s “This Guy” series, which included an interview, video and photoshoot, as well as an IG post that consisted of several polaroid, “boyfriend-style” pictures. The Instyle polariods were released three weeks after A’s posts, and let’s just say that A’s are a little too on the nose to be coincidence (also cue more hand/leg reveals…) Please note, again, that some of these photos on A’s account have been conveniently deleted/removed.

These are only a few examples of how… messy this all is and how it can be viewed as her antagonizing the fans. There is a lot of back and forth debate between “just leave her alone, she’s allowed to post what she wants” against “she’s clearly using social media to taunt the fandom/get attention/chase clout/etc.” When I finally learned about all the social media games being played, I just felt really unsettled for a few reasons.

Luke has stated that he wishes to keep his private life more private (see: social media clean-up from last fall). But, and this is my big issue here, A and That Friend Group don’t seem to WANT to be private. So to me, that can push people to question how much does he know what’s actually going on (he admits to not being online much) and, more importantly, how complicit is he with all of their postings? I personally feel like the narrative being pushed by his friends is very self-serving, and doesn’t seem like it’s in L’s best interest or protecting his privacy. Because I think we all know and understand that if a celebrity wants to keep certain things private, they have the money and resources to do so - some good examples that come to mind are Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes, Benedict Cumberbatch, Dolly Parton, and our girl Nicola herself.

A has made it a pattern to post shortly after either Nicola or the main Bridgerton account posts something, usually on IG or TT; there is timely evidence of this. So much so that the fandom jokes about how obsessed she must be with N. And these posts don’t really have much substance - other than to show off her body or her latest vacation. It just all comes off as very insecure and seeking attention, whether it’s from L or from the public in general. Again, why do we feel the need to play social media games? But this does not mean she deserves hateful comments either. I personally don’t care for her or her actions, but as an older female, I also can’t help but be saddened by the fact that she’s making many, many poor choices in a very public forum. I can’t help but wonder if she’s going to have regrets later on when/if she reflects back on this time.

The PR Stunt/Papgate

This has been dissected by the fandom to death and there are a plethora of theories on who exactly was responsible for calling the paparazzi, who knew what was actually going to happen, WHY did this occur, and how much did this impact the season and the press tour overall. It’s enough to make anyone’s head spin - hell, I’ve changed my opinion at least a dozen times over the past several weeks. Regardless, the thing that aggravates me the most about the whole thing is the absolutely terrible and suspicious timing of it. As stated in my previous post: Here’s my point: I think what should have been a moment of triumph and a joyous occasion for Nic, Luke, and Bridgerton season 3, was sadly overshadowed by the aforementioned shitstorm. And that’s a damn shame. Too many cast and crew put in a lot of time, effort, and blood sweat and tears, to pull this all together.

I’m still personally stuck on a few things: 1) How did paps know when L was leaving the official after party? Additionally, how did they know which hotel L was going to for his after-after party? Because that’s where we got the super awkward handhold attempt photos. 2) Did L know about the first location but not the second one - which ties into was this an attempt by his PR team to distance himself from Bridgerton and Nicola now that promo was almost done? Because the way he looks from location 1 to 2 is vastly different. 3) If paps were there, why was literally NO ONE else from the cast also photographed??? 4) Why has DM double (and tripled) down over the past few weeks on how she got those exclusive photos in the first place? And 5) Who ultimately has benefited the most from this whole PR stunt 🤔??? (Because I sure as hell don’t think it’s Luke…)

The Cinnamon Roll vs The Bad Boy

Luke has stated in several interviews that he’s interested in going for edgier, darker roles. I think that’s great that he wants to try something new and diversify; I would love to see him in whichever type of role interests him! However, he’s also spent 4-5 years playing Colin, a character that is quirky, kind and lovable (much more so on the show, thanks to Luke’s portrayal) and known for being the ultimate “wife guy” amongst the fandom. It’s also been mentioned time and time again that Luke is most like his character (by Luke himself and his Bridgerton cast mates). Nic speaks so highly of him, and the way he presented himself during the 6 months of press was really wonderful; I think he has a deep understanding and love for his role, and he was a genuinely supportive partner to his co-lead during filming. Think golden retriever energy - which is NOT a bad thing, at all!

If there is any truth to the PR stunt being organized by his team (and I’m in no way saying this is fact) as a way to differentiate/disassociate him from Bridgerton/Nicola, then I think this was a miscalculation on their part. We know that Luke did a lot of editorial photoshoots during the promo tour; and looking at the pictures now, it seems like there was definitely a narrative/aesthetic that was trying to be pushed of a more intense, moody and provocative L. Which is also fine! I don’t think he must be one personality or the other; humans are multi-faceted and complex, it’s what makes us so interesting.

The (Ongoing) Fallout

This is really difficult to write about because, honestly, I feel like we’re still witnessing it happening in real time, bit by agonizing bit. What we do know is that at this moment, he hasn’t announced any new projects other than returning for Bridgerton Season 4. He hasn’t announced any major brand deals and we don’t know what his next steps are career-wise. Which is completely baffling to me because I would think he and his team would want to capitalize on the momentum of a very successful season of a Netflix/Shondaland production. However, this is his life and his job, so until he comes forward with literally anything to say (a statement, an announcement, hell, he hasn’t even publicly claimed to have a gf FFS), then everything else is just noise and speculation. As much as I hope he’s not taking another HFBS, I also wouldn’t blame him for wanting to step away from the spotlight. He’s been unfairly dragged and smeared since the Part 2 premiere. Do I think he and his team/friend group have made a some missteps along the way? Yes, but again, no one deserves the nasty comments and vitriol that has been flung his way.

So How Do We Move Forward?

I keep thinking back to the adage: When someone shows you who they are, believe them.*

And isn’t this the root of my (and perhaps others’) struggle? Because it’s been really difficult to reconcile someone Nicola calls “a true gentleman, the kindest friend, a dream costar” with a man who seemingly (?) goes along with pap walks, Instagram subterfuge, and appears to be distancing himself from the very project and costars that helped propel him into the leading man spotlight. For me personally, I go back to my point that people are multi-faceted and deeply complex. I think Luke can be all of those things; I also think he might be struggling right now to figure out who he is and what he wants next after being scrutinized so heavily.

Also from my first post: We have to remember, though, that what we’re shown is only a fraction of their true selves, carefully and deliberately curated to accommodate their status as actors/celebrities/those in the public eye.

I choose to believe that we saw glimpses of the real Luke throughout the press tour. (ColinBridgey is a rockstar and compiled everything into a master list for our enjoyment!) I choose to believe Nicola knows Luke a hell of a lot better than almost everyone else yapping in this conversation. I choose to believe that his anxiety and quietness could be perceived as standoffish, and unfortunately he wasn’t able to shine as much as Nicola during the press tour, but they are a team and have each other’s backs - there is genuine love there, after all. I choose to believe that social media posting and likes are not indicative of the actual friendship and relationship between L and N. I would love to see him post more, or be more vocal in publicly thanking Bridgerton and Nicola - however, I realize those are expectations I have/desire and he does not owe me anything.

I choose to believe that despite the mistakes and missteps, he’s a decent human being who deserves to live his life on his own terms and at his own speed. I really, really hope that whenever he announces his next project, I can be joyful and supportive. There’s a lot of talk about giving him grace, which I agree with. I cannot imagine, nor do I desire to be in the public eye this way; it’s easy for us and others to feel entitled to say things behind our screens and keyboards, but these are real, actual people with lives and feelings.

I do think that it is for the best interest of the fandom to try and ignore A and That Friend Group (and DM) as much as possible. And I will be the first to admit that it is really fucking hard to do so. Like I’ve said before, I try to ignore toxicity and hate, but I am also human and therefore imperfect and capable of pettiness. There is just something about this situation (probably how much Lukola captivated me and how much disdain I have for his friend group) that makes me watch everything play out like it’s a train on fire, careening towards an unfinished bridge, over a ravine. Sometimes I feel bad because I wonder if I’m adding to the entire spectacle with my continued interest. But then I remember that I specifically keep it to this corner of the internet, and I’ve found a nice little community where we can gossip and discuss and dissect it all.

If you’ve made it to the end, thank you. This is just everything I’ve been ruminating over the past month, put into word vomit form. I would looove to hear your thoughts and takes on everything/anything discussed above. Maybe you have a different perspective or noticed something that I missed.

*Fun fact: In my research, I learned that this saying comes from Maya Angelou’s “A Song Flung Up to Heaven” and is actually "Believe people when they tell you who they are. They know themselves better than you.” The more well-known version comes out of an Oprah Winfrey interview with Angelou in 1997, where they were discussing life lessons. Okay, I’ll stop being a nerd now.

#luke newton #nicola coughlan #lukola #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton #luke newton get your shit together #but also please take care of your mental health #all these thoughts are ever evolving #because every day some new piece of drama occurs #like I've said before #strap in this is gonna be a roller coaster #wheeeeeee 🎢

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accirax · 28 days

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DRDT Chapter 2 Recap Analysis

Heyyyyy everybody :D

I'm sure that, by now, everyone has heard the exciting news: DRDT will be back on Friday, September 6, at 7 PM EST! That's so awesome!!! I can't wait to finally see the end of the Chapter, and hopefully for the DRDT community to come back in full force, even if only for a little while. I missed you all :)

So, to get back in the swing of Chapter 2 theorizing (and recap what's just happened for everyone including myself), I've decided to run a bit of analysis on the return announcement itself, specifically the recap that occurs at the end. I believe that anything an author says about their works can hold clues as to how they view their story. And, in this case, what does and doesn't make the recap and how certain events are phrased can give us some last-minute clues as to what we should be keeping our eyes on going into the second half of the Trial.

I'm going to try to keep this as facts-focused and non-partisan as possible, but in a "theory" like this, confirmation bias is basically impossible to fully ignore. It's inherent that I'll be more likely to pick up on "clues" that work with my beliefs than ones that work against it. So, please remember that I am not attacking anyone who believes any of the things that I "disprove" in this analysis, and I'm also not saying that you're already 100% wrong about them at this point in time. I'm literally going to "shoot down," so to speak, some of my own theories, but I'm not taking this analysis as reason enough to abandon them just yet. We can't know if anything is true or false until the Chapter is finished, so it would be silly to call something completely wrong when the Chapter hasn't even restarted yet.

With that out of the way, let's recap that recap, and drain every bit of information out of it that we possibly can!

I think that the most efficient way to see what is and isn't present is to list out the "scenes" that occur throughout Chapter 2, and see what DRDTdev had to say about each of them. With that in mind, our first "event" is...

Eden Makes Breakfast

Notably, all mention of Levi helping Eden make breakfast is omitted from this recap. This includes in the visuals of the clip played.

In some instances, I'm going to write how DRDTdev could have phrased things if he wanted to highlight certain elements in an indented paragraph, just to prove that it was possible to convey the information differently. Like this!

"Chapter 2 starts with Levi helping Eden make breakfast for everyone."

Distributing the Motive

This part seems pretty all-inclusive to what I remember happening in this scene. The only thing I particularly have to note is the finality of "Arturo received J's secret"-- which really makes it sound like that secret was assigned correctly-- but I don't think literally anyone was trying to claim that Arturo was lying about J having that secret.

Investigating the Second Floor

Obviously, DRDTdev didn't go into detail about any of these interactions-- no notes on Whit's theory that the killing game was catered to them, about Levi really wanting to make things up with Ace, or Nico's struggles with socialization. It means that those details are probably less important to the end of the Trial specifically, but I don't think that's much of a surprise.

Caulking the Bathroom

A lot of detail is omitted from what Teruko and MonoTV were actually talking about in the bathroom. Most notably, however, is that the Monocredits are not included in the recap. This may mean that Teruko's second Monocredit will not be redeemed this chapter, but at some later time.

A Chat With Charles

Once again, the use of Monocredits are ignored, as well as the fact that Charles gave Teruko the secret he received in case of emergencies. Therefore, it's possible that the letter (which should contain Eden's secret) won't come up again in the end of the Trial, and that this scene was more relevant to Charles' plot of opening up to Teruko than anything directly related to the secrets themselves.

"Afterwards, Teruko goes to talk with Charles, who hands her his motive secret in case of emergencies. Flustered by Charles' trust in her, Teruko uses her first Monocredit to have MonoTV make Charles go away."

Eden Retrieves Teruko

A couple of things here! Firstly, DRDTdev draws attention to the fact that Teruko was removed from the group for a day. I don't know if this could factor into murder plans at all, given that it's a whole three days before Arei turns up dead, but it could be relevant. Secondly, any mention of Eden's blackmail AND any mention of Eden's philosophy are omitted from the recap. Given that that's both one piece of information that makes Eden seem more guilty AND one piece that makes her seem more innocent, I imagine that was probably just to keep things neutral/brief. Unlike some of the other text boxes that I showed could have been written differently, that descriptor was already pretty long.

Commotion in the Cafeteria

No comment on who was the one tasked to help each of those pairs (Eden, Veronika, Teruko) or Charles and Whit choosing to sit out, but none of those additions seemed incredibly relevant to the overall plot.

David Suggests Secret Sharing

In this case, "secret" is put in quotations, which strongly suggests that having a family history of depression, whether true or not, is not what David's secret actually was. But, the board basically confirmed that already. Far more wildly, no mention is made of Charles learning of Elliot's existence at all. This is particularly crazy to me given that the last video on the DRDT channel prior to this was the Yoidoreshirazu MV. It definitely implies to me that Charles' secret will not be relevant in wrapping up Chapter 2.

Arei's Breakdown

The use of "rebuffs" as opposed to "bullies" or "demeans" is interesting to me, as it's a relatively chill word to describe what Arei did. We also lost Eden slipping up and telling Teruko that the secret she has belonged to someone with he/him pronouns, but that was likely excluded because we've (most likely) already solved that mystery.

Rose's Secret

No detail about Rose's backstory, but we don't have all day. Far more interesting to me is that DRDTdev draws attention to Nico asking Rose to teach them to paint in a sentence that could have easily been cut. My guess is to highlight the importance of this in relation to Ace's "murder."

Nico Threatens Ace

Nothing of note here; this seems pretty standard.

Nico's Secret

The phrasing "David has Nico reveal their secret" is really cool for how non-partisan it is. It doesn't say "David FORCES Nico" or "David MAKES Nico," but it also doesn't just say "Nico reveals their secret," either. It points out how David pushed things in this direction, but did so in a way where it was still technically up to Nico. Anyways, we also lost Hu telling us about the origin of her name. This is a bit strange, given that it's the main scene we have (in Chapter 2 at least) of Hu and David working together and being on good terms before David's reveal. Perhaps this implies that any relevance this scene has on the Trial has already passed.

Teruko Threatens J

Honestly, the weirdest part of this to me is that it was important enough to make the recap at all. But, it did have a CG and everything. Actually, I wonder if this could have been included to help us remember that Teruko is actively carrying a knife on her at all times.

Ace Nearly Dies

DRDTdev directly phrases this as "Nico attempting to murder Ace," which really sounds like a soft confirmation that Nico was the one who tried to kill Ace, and therefore they were not framed for this crime.

"Late at night, Teruko and Eden spot Nico running away from Ace's nearly dead body in the Gym."

We also lose a lot of detail when it comes to Teruko and Eden investigating the initial scene of the crime, Ace chasing down Nico to kill them on the spot, and Levi offering his aid before being rejected and growing angry. It could indicate that the details of what happened after Ace "died" won't be relevant to the end of the Chapter.

Hu Defends Nico

This scene, in which Ace tries to expose what Nico did and Hu argues that Ace must have the wrong idea, is entirely missing from the recap. I bring this up because, very notably, this is the scene where Arei is last seen, not speaking. Arei's weirdly quiet breakfast is not highlighted in the recap at all, which may mean that it won't be relevant to the Trial.

Teruko and Rose Check Out the Gym

We once again call particular attention to the fact that Rose can't do a pullup because the grippy tape went missing from the Gym at some point around the time of the murder, although no focus is put on the fact that the Gym was closed in between when Teruko and Eden were there and when Teruko returned with Rose. This may suggest that the lockdown logic of how the tape went missing may be relevant to the remainder of the chapter.

A Chat With Charles and Whit

Once again, absolutely no mention is made of Ellie or Charles' childhood amnesia, despite that being the main point of this conversation. Weird.

"Teruko stops by the Computer Lab and talks with Charles and Whit about Charles' memories of a forgotten older brother."

Horror Movies in the Gym

Beyond the lack of detail regarding Veronika's philosophy, I'm quite surprised that Teruko's plan to end the killing game wasn't at all mentioned in the recap. I guess that'll be saved for a further chapter!

Motive Reveal Time

I don't think there's anything particularly important going on here, besides possibly drawing attention back to David being the one to point out that Arei was missing. It's possible that could still be relevant if the specifics of the BDA come up in the Trial.

Discovering Arei's Body

A couple of points on word choice in this one-- first of all, the text says "find her body," which, according to what was said on the slide before this one ("points out that Arei is missing"), should imply that they found Arei's body. However, the way that this slide is phrased allows for the very sneaky "Everyone goes to search for [Arei]. Teruko, Eden, and Whit find [J's] body hanging in the playground." Therefore, in my opinion, this part of the recap doesn't disprove swap theory, at least.

Secondly, the word DRDTdev chose was "find," not "discover." And, in this game, the BDA rule is phrased as "The Body Discovery Announcement will play when three or more people who did not witness the murder discover the body." Thus, by not directly saying that Teruko, Eden, or Whit was discovering the body here, this part of the recap also doesn't disprove the idea that Eden or Whit (or Teruko) could have done something to falsify the BDA. In fact, the BDA itself isn't mentioned at all.

"Everyone goes to search for her. Teruko, Eden, and Whit discover her body hanging in the playground, and trigger the Body Discovery Announcement."

Investigation

Absolutely nothing from the investigation makes it into the recap, likely because the investigation is an entire episode long on its own, and DRDTdev was trying to keep it quick. Not to mention, pointing out particular pieces of evidence here would really highlight what's going to be important in the Trial to come, and DRDTdev may be lowkey trying to further nudge people towards rewatching the entire investigation for themselves anyways. I think that the reconstruction of the note is probably the thing that I'm most surprised to see missing from the recap? I'll also point out that the video clips chosen for the "Investigating the Second Floor" section include Teruko and MonoTV looking up at the Gym's ceiling fans, which could be a sneaky way of drawing further attention to that setup.

Assigning Secrets

We have to go a bit later into the recap to hear about the motive secrets, and what we get is, predictably, very vague. Saying, "currently, the state of the motive secrets is like this" puts the full burden of proof onto the students to assign them correctly, with DRDTdev giving no indication here as to which are correct. Even the most highly contested assignment-- that Xander has the "the killing game is all your fault" secret as opposed to Teruko-- is still treated like fact here. Again, not a surprise, but not much to be gained.

Possibility of Suicide

The specifics of the blackened being the "most mastermind-y" person involved in the case are not included in the recap. This could imply that this rule may not be important to the outcome of this Trial.

Eden and Arturo

"Eden had Arturo's secret" also feels like a soft confirmation that that is Arturo's secret, and we won't reveal later down the line that Arturo actually had a different secret. I feel like this segment is also phrased like fact, therefore implying that Eden wasn't lying about this confrontation happening. We also get no indication as to Eden's feelings on Arei's vow, or whether them becoming friends actually happened.

"In the Trial, Eden claimed to have Arturo's secret, and that he attacked her when she revealed it. When Arei came to save her, the two of them forged a friendship."

What Ace Overheard

While not as plainly put as "it is revealed that," the phrasing "Ace reveals that" seems to support that Ace was telling the truth about overhearing this conversation, although the date on which it happened isn't reaffirmed here. Similarly, "David's secret is revealed" strongly implies that David does have the manipulator secret.

"Ace then claimed to overhear Arei and David talking about [David's] secret, and declared that David's secret was being a manipulator."

The David Reveal

(I'm going to write these ones out instead of having a screenshot because I ran out of images :,( And I'm too lazy to compress them... )

"In response, David acts aggressively and admits to being Arei's killer. Everyone nearly votes for David, but Teruko and a few others believe that David is lying. Then, Charles interrupts and reveals that he has some yet-unknown information that changes the Trial..."

To be honest, I didn't realize that "a few others" were siding with Teruko. Like, Charles for sure, and possibly Ace, given he still thinks Nico did it...? That phrase could be a hint that we'll hear more about other students who don't think that David is the blackened quickly after the plot resumes. Maybe my prediction that we're about to head into a scrum debate for 7:30 AM vs 7:30 PM will turn out to be correct...!

And, that's pretty much all I had to say... 30 images later. Look, a lot of it is images, so there wasn't actually that much analysis involved! Besides, now is the third-best time to be hyped and rambling about DRDT Chapter 2-- the top two being while the chapter is airing and just after it's finished, obviously-- so I can say as much as I want! And so can you!

If there are any particular phrasings within the recap that struck you as interesting, feel free to talk about them in the comments or a reblog! I'd love to see what other people think about this, and add my two cents (if desired).

From what it seems, the DRDT community seems to be just as excited for the return of DRDT as I am, which makes me very happy. I hope you enjoyed reading this analysis, and once again, please remember that I'm not trying to shame anyone for believing in anything that may be "disproved" by what DRDTdev said, or to fully convince them out of it before the Chapter begins. If I were DRDTdev, I would be trying to phrase things in the most vague and misleading ways possible to throw off nosy people like myself. It's also definitely possible that I read into things too far in my excitement. That's what this practice round is for, before we dive back in to the real meat of the mystery on September 6th!

Oh my god... we're actually going to dive back in to the real meat of the mystery on September 6th...

See you then!!!

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #drdt spoilers #teruko tawaki #charles cuevas #ace markey #arei nageishi #rose lacroix #hu jing #eden tobisa #levi fontana #arturo giles #david chiem #veronika grebenshchikova #j rosales #whit young #nico hakobyan #fanganronpa #cw suicide mention #i still can't believe it's actually happening..... AAAAAAAAAAA #i really hope this was unbiased though. i tried to be #other than the part where i linked lockdown logic again that WAS warranted but also i did have a personal agenda #i'll probably make a more public post about this closer to the chapter airing but please please please don't be mean to people whose #theories turn out to be false #whichever groups those are are going to be coping hard enough as is they don't need to also be told that they're stupid and #be belittled by the correct party as well #my theories

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mirandasidefics · 1 month

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But Home is Nowhere- Chapter 11

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, and Ruhn Dannan x Plus Size Reader.

Summary: Ruhn supports Reader as she continues to heal. The two come to an agreement regarding her use of Azriel's tonic on the nights where she struggles the most. As their friendship progresses, so do their feelings towards each other. Reader opens up and shares parts of herself that no one, not even Lucien, knows about her. So, what happens when Ruhn makes an idiotic mistake?

Also, Lucien has a confusing dream.

Word Count: 16K

Warnings: Feelings of hopelessness, loneliness, grief, angst, conflicting emotions, mentions of substance use, Reader being dense af, smut (18+/MDNI), oral (f receiving), masturbation (male), making out/kissing, secondhand embarrassment (aka Ruhn's a dumbass).

Author's Note: This is a heavy Ruhn centered chapter. And we have his POV! I decided that I couldn't sufficiently tell his and Reader's part of the story without his POV. The final scene is split between the Reader and Ruhn's POV as there is a lot going on in each of their heads. I did a lot of research into what the ingredients for Azriel's Mother's tonic could be, and I settled on it being a similar product to laudanum (opium mixed with hard liquor). There are some added natural sleep-inducing herbs as well. The "black gum" that Ruhn mentions is the equivalent to opium (heroin). For those that recognize the song, I didn't include all of the lyrics, but Reader does sing the entire song. Ruhn's focus just goes in and out so what the audience sees is what sticks in his head. I think that is all.

As always, a HUGE thank you to my beta readers!

Series Masterlist Divider by @/tsunami-of-tears

Previous: Chapter 10 Next: Chapter 12

Ruhn noted how (Y/N) had been quiet since leaving the party. Which was unusual as typically their nightly routine included each of them talking about their day, at least the parts whenever they weren’t together. Tonight though, she was silent as she moved about the room. Something was on her mind, he could tell; but whether or not to try and get the information out of her or let her share it on her own was the question he found himself asking now. She kicked off the small heels and unclasped the delicate necklace, setting it on the smooth top of the vanity.

“Could you help me?” Her voice sounded distant. She turned her back towards him, lifting her hair away from the ties that secured the deep red dress to her frame. He hummed his acknowledgment and pulled at the laces, loosening the dress. He caught sight of a strip of vivid blue-violet fabric stretching across her back. Her hands quickly grasped the front of her dress, pressing it to her chest to keep it from falling. She nodded her thanks and rushed into the bathroom to finish undressing.

Ruhn started to undress himself as well, unbuttoning the dark silver cotton blend dress shirt that he wore. He sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his socks when he looked up into the mirror on the dresser directly in front of the bed. His breath caught in his throat. The door to the bathroom had not shut all the way, a fact that she must have been unaware of as she pranced around in the sinfully sexy lace bra and pantie set. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was something she picked out for herself, or if his sister had yet again decided to meddle. It wouldn’t be the first time. He couldn’t help but notice the color of this particular set was his favorite color.

Ruhn knew he should have looked away. That he should have stood up and turned around to give her that privacy, but he simply couldn’t. Instead, he sat on the bed with his bare chest exposed and just watched. She was so beautiful. Not just on the outside, no. He saw how beautiful her heart and mind were as well. Her compassion and resilience were aspects of her being that he respected and adored.

She moved with grace as she set about removing her makeup. He had to bite his lip to suppress the longing groan as he watched her bend over the sink. The lace panties high enough to expose the delicious curve of her ass cheeks. Thank fucking Urd she couldn’t smell his arousal, but she would be able to see and feel his hard cock if he couldn’t get a hold of himself.

He shook his head, resisting the urge to physically slap himself to get moving again. He quickly undressed, remaining in his boxer briefs. Their shared body heat always seemed to keep him warm enough. She certainly never complained about his lack of apparel either. The thought made him smile slightly. Plus, it wasn’t like he could easily pack up his former belongings with his old house being watched. And he had seen no point in purchasing any new pajamas from any of the vendors in Velaris, even though Rhysand did supply him with a decent paycheck. What he was being paid for he honestly didn’t quite know. He held no official title that he was aware of, and apart from training with Cassian and Azriel the only thing he did was care for (Y/N). But that wasn’t a job. As far as he was concerned he was just spending time with his friend.

Ruhn could hear her feet pacing back and forth on the tiles of the bathroom. Wordlessly he went over to the dresser and pulled out one of her nightgowns. Truth be told he’d much prefer her to join him in bed with the outfit she currently had on, even if he had no plans to touch her without her permission. But he knew that she preferred to be a little bit more covered. Ruhn gently knocked on the door, careful to face away so as to give her a semblance of privacy while he held out the silk nightgown. She took it from his grasp, giving a small thanks.

This had also become part of their routine. If she intentionally forgot her night clothes or not, he didn’t mind helping her in this way. He knew that she was dressed when the door opened the rest of the way. He immediately noticed that the blue straps of her bra were nowhere to be seen alongside the thin straps of the nightgown. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself knowing that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He slipped into the room next to her so that he could wash his face and brush his teeth. The whole scene was perfectly domestic.

A part of him longed for more, but he didn’t want to overstep or make any assumptions on her feelings. Especially after her forced separation from Lucien. It had taken several nights of restless and disturbed sleep before she felt comfortable having Ruhn close to her. He didn’t mind waiting until she had become comfortable.

He would wait as long as needed. He had his own shit to sort through, much of which he just pushed to the side. He had his theories about the last female he even thought of getting close to, before she turned out to be someone that he considered an enemy. But (Y/N), he knew that she didn’t deserve to be compared to anyone else. So he kept finding things about her that were completely different to ensure that his feelings for her were not an attempt to fill a hole that had been left behind.

Ruhn had grown close to the woman over the past few years together. There was no doubt in his mind that she was important to him and everything that was going on. He believed that he must have been equally as important to her since she had been more receptive to his attempts to comfort her. He honestly found it difficult to keep his hands to himself most of the time. There was something about being in physical contact with her that he craved. Even if that contact was as fleeting as a quick kiss to her brow, he needed her. And on the rare occasions that she returned the gestures, he felt more grounded than he had in his entire life. She brought him a sense of peace that he would be eternally grateful for. Especially since he never got to experience this feeling with - no he would not think about her. Lidia was gone. It was as simple as that, and nothing more.There was no sense comparing all that he had in his life now with something that was entirely unknown.

He shook his head, ridding his mind of the shifter’s memory. At least for the time being. His focus returned to the human standing next to him. Her head tilted to the side by a fraction, studying him. Ruhn took the opportunity to pull her into a hug and kiss the top of her forehead. Lacing her fingers with his, they made their way back to the bed. Pulling back the covers he climbed in, and she soon followed. Most nights they would fall asleep simply laying next to each other. Tonight however, she rolled on her side to face him.

“Everything alright?” He asked, lifting his arm to create a space for her. Tentatively she curled up next to him, eyes seeking permission to rest her head on his chest. He curled his fingers, beckoning her to come closer.

“I’m just in my feelings,” She admitted, her arm wrapped around his torso and her head resting on the space between his shoulder and pectoral. He wrapped his arm around her back, resting his hand on her hip. She let out a deep relaxed sigh. He hummed in response, moving his thumb in a soothing gesture. He knew her well enough to know when she didn’t feel like talking about a subject. So, if silent comfort was what she needed then that is what he would give. Not long after his eyelids began to droop and he drifted off to sleep.

A soft melody drifted and wound its way through the townhouse like a withered visage of a specter. The melancholic chords of a piano slowly brought Ruhn to an awakened state. He stretched his arm out across the bed, in hopes of curling it around the soft feminine figure whose warmth he’d grown accustomed to. Only that side of the mattress was cold and empty.

With a jolt his senses went on high alert. It took a moment for his mind to process that the music was not from his imagination, but from within the townhouse. There was only one person that would be playing the instrument, (Y/N). Nyx had asked her to sing at the most recent Winter Solstice celebrations, to which she nervously agreed. She shared a few songs that she said were from her world’s winter celebrations. Apparently not all humans strictly celebrated the Solstice, but something called Christmas. She accompanied herself on the piano that night and took to practicing ever since.

With his adrenaline subsiding he slowly climbed out of bed and proceeded to make his way downstairs to check on the human manipulating the ivory keys. He pulled the shadows that waited on the edges of the room towards himself, readying them to strike any threat that may be waiting, tricking him into believing that she was safe. He didn’t know why he suddenly thought that she could be at risk in one of the safety places for her, but the concern was there nonetheless.

The halls were dark as he made his way through, following the sound of the piano. By the time he reached the door of the small library on the ground floor he was able to make out the familiar sultry voice of (Y/N)’s singing. He released a breath, comforted by the reassurance that she was safe.

It's not simple to say

Most days I don't recognize me

With her attention on the keys of the piano, the woman hadn’t noticed him entering the small space. While she tried to keep her voice low, it carried and resonated throughout the entire home.

It's not easy to know

I'm not anything like I used to be

Although it's true

I was never attention’s sweet center

I still remember that girl

Ruhn enjoyed listening to her voice. The warmth that it embodied reminded him of the nights they spent curled up in blankets by the fire together.

She's imperfect but she tries

She is good but she lies

He watched as her expression changed from concentration to sadness.

She is hard on herself

She is broken and won't ask for help

His breath caught in his throat as he listened, the lyrics carrying a certain unspoken weight.

She is messy but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

He marveled at the way she navigated from one part of her voice to the next. Seamless despite the weight that her sadness must have added.

She is gone but she used to be mine

His heart clenched as she finished the first chorus. It quickly became obvious that her playing and singing was more than just a source of entertainment. She needed this. He realized that music was her outlet. Many of the Fae had a natural love of music in some way. Her affinity could be yet another indication that she truly had Fae heritage, even distantly as they all suspected. While he was no musician himself, he was still intrinsically drawn to its beautiful complexity. Lilting melodies, full and robust harmonies, and driving beats all stirring parts of him that made him remember he was alive. He enjoyed music, but (Y/N)? In this instance she was music. Her entire body became much more than just an instrument. It was a vessel. One that embodied everything she was feeling, calling it to the surface and expelling it in a beautifully sonorous experience.

And you're not what I asked for

If I'm honest

I know I would give it all back

For a chance to start over

Her voice built, commanding that it be heard. Ruhn decided that he loved hearing her voice and would encourage her to use it at every opportunity.

For the girl that I knew

Who’ll be reckless just enough

Who can hurt but

Who learns how to toughen up when she's bruised

And gets used by a man who can’t love

He couldn’t help but wonder if some of these lyrics held any specific meaning for her, or if it was the overall message that she resonated with. He was slightly aware that she had a past with ex-lovers. She didn’t really provide much in the way of details, but he knew she had been hurt. He was also aware that she often didn’t feel worthy of being truly loved, often having been used. Ruhn decided that he would ensure that she never felt that way with him.

To fight just a little

To bring back the fire in her eyes

That's been gone but it used to be mine

She closed her eyes, tears slipping out and descending in salty trails down her cheeks. The impassioned resonance of her voice rattled every surface of the room as she held the note. He felt every ounce of the turmoil and longing that she had been holding inside. The gravity of the loss she was experiencing. It was pouring out of her, crashing against his senses much like the way Lidia had raged against his mental shields that week in the Asteri’s dungeons.

Used to be mine

Ruhn wanted to kick himself. Why did he suddenly think of Lidia again? The two were so different from each other. At least that’s what he thought. He never really got to know the female that risked her life for him. He did know (Y/N). Knew that she would do anything to protect those she loved. Whether through fierce words or use of the physical training she still attended daily, she was a protector with an occasional hairpin trigger. So why was he making any connection between the woman in front of him and the female that… The thought left his mind as (Y/N)’s voice cut through his defenses.

She is messy but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

Her voice became brittle and shook from an exhaustion that he found himself all too familiar with. The sad smile on her lips dampened the impact her words had just moments before filled the small library. The next chord was one of finality. The soft tones clung to the air, just as tears clung to her eyelashes.

She is gone but she used to be mine

Ruhn watched from his spot near the door as she finally looked up from where her hands continued to rest on the keys. Tears streamed down her face, and for the first time in the years he’d known her she didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. She didn’t hide her sorrow, allowing him to fully see her heart and how it was breaking. He knew she was struggling, but he had no idea she was in this much pain.

Something inside him knew that she wouldn’t shy away if he approached, so he didn’t hesitate to walk across the room to be by her side. He was in front of her in just a few quick strides. There wasn’t much room on the piano bench for the two of them to sit in a way where he could hold her close. So, after a quick glance about the room he spotted the large plush reading chair.

Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet and along towards the chair. He noted that the chair, while surely an amazing place for her to curl up with a book, wasn’t exactly wide enough for her to sit with her legs crossing over his lap. It didn’t make a difference though; he knew that she needed to be held to feel at ease. At least, that was how it always was when she woke from a nightmare in the middle of the night.

Typically, he would hold her as they lay on the bed together. His fingers either tracing along her skin marveling at how soft and supple it was or buried in her hair gently tugging on the strands just above the back of her neck. The action often allowed her to feel relaxed. It all depended on the level of security and protectiveness she needed to feel that night. Ruhn quickly surmised that tonight the best way to hold her would be for her to sit directly in his lap.

So, after settling on the chair, he pulled her towards him, guiding her to straddle over his hips. She complied, no hesitation in her movements as she made herself as comfortable as possible. Her nightgown inching up her thighs, revealing her skin as the fabric halted just below her hips. Her legs were able to slide in between his thighs and the arms of the chair, but just barely. He didn’t mind the pressure of her legs against his thighs, the feel of her body pressed against his helping to ground him as usual.

With near perfect practiced synchronicity Ruhn wrapped as much of himself as he could around her voluptuous frame. One hand slid along her lower back, providing support as it reached toward her hip. While the other slipped up her spine, fingers splayed out between her shoulder blades. He felt the small bumps rise along her warm skin. Her own arms wound around the top of his shoulders, her hands threading themselves into his hair. He let out a relaxed sigh at her touch, his breath ruffling her hair. She leaned forward and their bodies melded into each other’s. From this position, Ruhn would be able to easily pick her up and carry her back up stairs if needed.

With her face buried in his neck, she continued to silently cry. The wetness from her tears contrasted with the warmth of her breath against his skin. Her nose grazed just underneath his ear. He wanted to believe that his scent was somehow calming to her as her muscles relaxed the longer they sat in that position. Eventually, she broke the silence.

“Today was my brother’s birthday,” She whispered. Her shuddering breath fanned across his neck sending the briefest of shivers through him. Ruhn wasn’t sure how to respond, or if he should respond at all. He opted to remain silent, instead taking one hand and tenderly rubbing it along her back. She moved her own arms from around his neck to wrap them around his torso before fully relaxing into his hold on her. Ruhn smiled at the fact that their positioning probably made her look like an overgrown child. Urd knows that he caught her holding Nyx in the very same position many times trying to get him to calm down.

“My brother should be 30,” She continued. “I-I had never missed his birthday before…now I’ve missed three.” Her voice cracked from trying to keep her emotions in check and holding back her sobs. Tears still flowed, but Ruhn could tell that she was on the verge of breaking. With a kiss to her temple he let her continue all the same, knowing that she needed to process through her feelings.

“How many more am I going to miss?” She sucked in a harsh breath. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want to go home.” Her body began to tremble slightly, a signal the dam was ever closer to breaking. His hand continued to rub her back as his other squeezed at her hip, silently letting her know he was still listening. She didn’t need words from him anyway right now. He had quickly learned how to tell when she wanted his opinion on matters versus just silent comfort.

“I miss my family so much,” The words tumbled out, nearly blending in with the sob that she finally allowed herself to release. Ruhn pulled her closer to him and he felt her fingers press deeply into his shoulders. She gripped him as if he was the only thing preventing her from shattering entirely. He recognized that she held a quiet strength, but in his arms she suddenly became the most fragile thing in the world. Everything inside him wanted to protect her. To shield her from the pain and grief of losing everything she held dear.

“But it’s not just them I miss,” She continued through her sobs. “I miss everything about the life I had.” Ruhn listened as she continued to vent. She talked about how close she was to finishing her dissertation, years of dedicated hard work and research now felt wasted. She also talked about her recent promotion, finally allowing her to gain a semblance of financial independence. All of this leading up to the confession that threatened to rip his own heart from his chest.

“I’ve been in survival mode for so long.” She could barely speak from how heavily she was crying. “I-I don’t even know who I am anymore.” Ruhn wasn’t sure if he could hold her any closer than he already was, but he certainly tried. Her entire body shook from the force of her crying. He shushed her, bringing a hand up to her face to cradle it against him. After a moment she lifted her head, resting her forehead against his.

Her sobbing calmed down to a few shuddering breaths. She brought her hands up to his face, cupping each side. Her nose tentatively brushed against his. Their lips were less than an inch apart, but she didn’t bring them any closer. He wanted to kiss her, but this wasn’t the way he wanted their first kiss to be. He wanted her happy when, if ever, she decided that she wanted more with him. Urd knew that he wanted more with her.

Ruhn realized that he loved her. He loved her so damn much that even just simply waking up next to her everyday caused his heart to beat just a little bit faster. All he wanted to do was ensure she was happy, healthy, and safe. Especially safe given everything that she has been through. He vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to make that happen.

“I’m not going to tell you who you are, as that is for you to decide,” He stated, breath intermingling with hers. “But I can tell you what I know and see every day that I’m with you. If you want to hear it, that is.” She brushed her nose against his again. He couldn’t tell if she wanted him to be the one that closed the distance or she would give in herself. Again he knew that it would be better to wait.

“Please,” She breathed. “Everything feels so different. Like something is missing. I-I could use a reminder.” One his hands cupped the back of her neck, his fingers threading in the hair at the base. He gave a gentle comforting tug causing her to sigh.

“Okay,” He pushed her face back slightly so he could better look her in the eyes. “You are kind and compassionate. I see that everyday when you’re with Nyx, a child that you have no relation to and yet you treat him as if he were your own. You’re patient with him and are teaching him what it means to be empathetic to those that have experienced hardships and the trials of life. You are talented and creative. Listening to you tonight, at the celebration and just a few minutes ago, you always take my breath away. I love listening to you and I don’t think that I would ever get tired of your voice. Use it more often, in every context, not just musically. You are so strong, so resilient, and fierce. No one would fault you for wanting to hide from the world. For letting the darkness you’ve experienced swallow you whole. But you don’t. You keep fighting for your life, knowing that things will get better. Even if there are those in this court that don’t want to appreciate all that you are.” Tears were again falling from her eyes, but a small smile graced her lips. Her cheeks took on a lovely blush at his praise.

“You have such a large capacity for love,” He brushed away her tears with his thumbs. “I know things have changed and that you feel lost. But you are not alone in the feeling because so many things have changed since you were introduced into our lives. I honestly don’t know what my life would be without you.” He set his forehead against hers, his hands back around her waist, rubbing small circles.

“Thank you,” Her whisper was so soft. He only knew that she had spoken from the breath he felt against his lips.

“Anytime sweetness,” He smiled, squeezing her sides. She squirmed at the touch, no doubt the sensation sent a shiver up her spine.

“With everything that has happened, the good and the horrible, it's easy to get lost in a sea of emotions.” She revealed. “It feels like that has been happening more and more lately. They swirl around jumbling my thoughts into an incomprehensible cacophony. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there have been more nights where I just can’t sleep. Not necessarily because of the nightmares, just…from how loud everything can get. Being with you helps, but I still just wish that my brain would quiet down sometimes.”

Ruhn hummed in thought, processing her words. He had noticed that she was more restless the past week, but he had assumed it was related to her dreams. But if she was restless due to racing thoughts there might be a solution.

He hated the idea of her using Azriel’s tonic, but it would provide the calm she needed to sleep. He had been so scared when she wouldn’t wake when he found her after his only trip to Midgard a year ago. No matter how hard he shook her she remained unconscious. He became so panicked that he eventually placed his ear against her chest, her heartbeat slow but present. He didn’t know what to do until Azriel arrived racing up the stairs to her room. The male claimed he was on his way to check on her when his shadows notified him of Ruhn’s presence and the fact that (Y/N) wouldn’t wake. Azriel attempted to calm Ruhn down after telling him about the tonic, but he didn’t want to listen until (Y/N) was awake again.

Once she finally woke up Ruhn demanded to know what was in it, and he wasn’t surprised to learn that it had a near lethal dosage of refined black gum mixed in. If she were to use it again it would have to be strictly monitored. He knew all too well the dangers of addiction.

“What if,” He started, “Would taking some of the tonic help? Just a small amount, enough to help calm you.” She peered at him, her brow furrowing in thought. He loved how cute she looked, even though it was a serious topic at hand.

“It could,” She nodded, eyes drifting towards the side with ongoing contemplation. “I just worry about pouring too much. I thought that I measured it correctly, but…” Her words trailed off as she met his gaze again.

“What if I were to help by measuring it out for you?” He offered. “I have experience with one of the ingredients, and have an idea of what would be a good dosage for you. But I don’t want to dictate when you take it. If you feel it would be helpful, and you want my assistance I will gladly mix it up for you in some tea.” Her expression flashed with disgust at the mention of tea.

“I’d rather swallow it as is than drink it with tea,” She stated before jokingly making a retching sound. “What if I took it with alcohol?”

“Baby, it’s already mixed with alcohol. That’s what makes it so dangerous.”

She pouted her lips, but eventually sighed. “It would help with reducing the noise in my head?” He nodded.

“But if you’re not comfortable with taking it we can find something else. Maybe Bryce-” She shook her head at his suggestion.

“The tonic was the only thing that has really helped so far,” She reminded him. “I just need someone to make sure that I don’t overdo it. I’ve had my fair share of taking medications with similar properties and I always get to a point where my tolerance builds and I need more to have the same desired effect.” So she did have an understanding of the risks. Ruhn found himself relaxing a bit at that. At least he wouldn’t have to convince her to not take it daily.

“Let’s do this then,” He offered. “You tell me when things get to be too much, and I’ll pour you the dose that fits your needs best before bed. The tonic comes with risks, but your mental health is just as important.” She nodded.

“Do you want to go back to bed?” He asked. “Or do you want to stay down here and cuddle.” He pulled her closer, settling her hips directly over his own. He had to suppress his surprise at the feeling of her, with only his boxers separating them.

“Cuddle in bed?” She offered. A whisper of a smile gracing her features.

“Sounds perfect,” He returned the smile as she stood up and off his lap. Taking her hand, Ruhn led her back towards their room.

“Wait,” She stopped at the bottom of the staircase. “What should I do when I’m in the Day Court with Lucien?”

“Does Lucien still share a bed with you in the Day Court?” Ruhn asked as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. A possessive part of him didn’t want to hear the answer, selfishly wanting to be the only male to keep her warm in the midnight hours.

“No,” She responded quietly. “He sleeps in his own bed, but he does sleep in the room. We…we felt it was best given all the drama about him being mated to Elain.” Ruhn’s shoulders relaxed just ever so slightly with the news. He knew they were friends, knew that the red-headed male had been privy to a fair number of her most vulnerable moments. He had to remind himself that, based on what little information Lucien provided, there was a brief moment when their relationship had danced on the edge of the already thin line between friendship and something more.

He had suspected that perhaps they had nearly become intimate, or at least seen each other nude. Either way he didn’t particularly like the thought of another male being so close to her in that manner. Regardless of what it was, this moment ended up being the catalyst for Lucien to diminish his presence by her side over the past year and a half. Of which Ruhn was secretly glad. While (Y/N) stated that it was a mutual decision, Lucien informed him that it was her idea and decision. So far Lucien had been true to his word of respecting that decision, even if the separation between them was clearly hurting them both.

“I’m sure that if you explain everything that you told me, he would be more than happy to assist in keeping an eye on you,” Ruhn offered. “And if he doesn’t want to then I’ll just have to start going to the Day Court with you.” His smile was mischievous as he pulled her closer to his body. They both knew that if Ruhn, Bryce, or Hunt were to step outside of Velaris there would be too many questions surrounding them. Especially given the fact that Ruhn and Rhysand looked so similar.

The woman rolled her eyes, “Everyone was in agreement that knowledge of travelers from other worlds needed to be kept within the confines of the Inner Circle.” Her voice took on an almost mocking tone as she repeated Rhysand’s words. “At least until it becomes necessary to share that information.”

Ruhn knew that Rhysand would only reveal the existence of other worlds if there was a direct threat that required the assistance of other leaders. The hope was that those from Midgard would be able to defeat the Asteri largely on their own, and that (Y/N) would find a way home without the other High Lords taking notice. While (Y/N) had interactions with Helion, as far as Ruhn knew he had yet been informed of her true origins.

“I know,” Ruhn said, bringing her hand to his lips before he tugged her up the stairs. “Plus that’s your time alone with Lucien. I doubt he would want me third wheeling.” She giggled. Fucking giggled and his heart soared.

“Just hurry up,” She pushed at his back the rest of the way up the stairs. “I wanna cuddle.”

Yet another Autumn was in full swing in Velaris marking a full 4 years since you arrived in this world. Despite your ongoing trips to the Day Court you were no closer to finding a way home. As much as that simple fact upset you, you were slowly becoming more used to your life in Prythian. Every morning was the same routine of you waking next to Ruhn and having breakfast together before Azriel and Cassian took you to the House of Wind for your self defense training. Training was followed by caring for Nyx 4 days a week. You loved your time with the little heir, but you’d be lying if you said you also didn’t love having time to do what you wanted on your days off.

Most days you would engage in your own hobbies of reading and music, and others you would explore Velaris with someone from the Inner Circle. Well, all except for Rhysand really. Each of the other members had their merits and you didn’t mind getting to know them. You especially enjoyed occasionally joining Nesta and her friends for a book club sleepover. She practically provided you with a never ending supply of romance novels, most of which were not for the faint of heart in regards to smut. Of course, you devoured each and every one of them, but even with the friendships you were forming, you really preferred the time you spent with Ruhn.

You were together every night, and he really had become your rock since your break down after Starfall. You always expressed your gratitude and appreciation for his support, verbally and through small gestures. However, a part of you felt bad because he did so much for you; not only did he provide comfort and support, but he ensured that Lucien was made aware of your needs as well.

The three of you had a very open and honest conversation surrounding the tonic and Lucien spending more time with you in the Night Court. Ruhn had recognized your needs and was proactive in making sure they were met. You were constantly on the lookout for a way to return his efforts, but there never seemed to be an opportunity.

You didn’t want to push the topic, aware that he had his own emotions to process. The loss associated with someone that you were almost certain may have been his mate, even if he didn’t recognize that himself, and being away from his friends surely was taking an emotional toll. Not to mention that his entire life had abruptly changed, being captured and tortured, only to be rescued and forced to live on a world that was not his own. It was a similar situation to yours, so who better to share his feelings with? You wanted to do something for him, support him in the ways he supported you, but you didn’t know where to start since he didn’t open up in the same way.

Sitting on the couch in the front parlor of the townhouse, your mind wandered in and out from thinking of various ideas as you read the latest novel borrowed from Nesta. Of course, the novel was one of her favorites and she gave you a warning to only read it when you were alone. You wished you had listened, clamping your legs together at the thought of Ruhn going down on you like the male lead in the novel. Which led you to wonder if he would enjoy a blow job as a way for you to express your thanks. So far the contents of this particular novel only inspired ideas that you were certain Ruhn would want no part of, at least not with you. You were friends, nothing more. You’d been friendzoned enough times to know that was all you’d ever be with the annoyingly handsome male.

Apart from the fact that you had to push the dirty thoughts from your mind, it was a nice quiet afternoon. One that was made all the more enjoyable with Lucien by your side. Well, he wasn’t exactly by your side as your legs were technically draped over his lap. His own book in one hand while the other traced lazy designs on your exposed thigh.

You smiled to yourself as his fingers drew their designs. The sensation caused a shiver to run up your spine. You were grateful the male had followed through on his promise to see you more often between trips to the Day Court, even if he was technically sneaking behind Rhysand’s back to do it. He had reassured you that if you ever became uncomfortable with the extra visits he would stick to the schedule Rhysand set. Of course, you told him that you would never push him away, that you enjoyed all the time you got to spend with your best friend. Though, that didn’t stop you from worrying. There had already been a few close calls with Azriel almost finding out. The most recent incident was a month ago.

Lucien arrived at the townhouse, winnowing into the back garden. The two of you spent the morning of your day off lounging in your room. Ruhn had left just a few minutes prior, jokingly warning against any “funny business”. You had rolled your eyes, the notion of anything like that occurring between you and your friend was utterly ridiculous, that morning in the Day Court being a fluke. He was mated and not at all interested in any other female, especially not a human.

The two of you spent most of the day talking and catching up. He was in the middle of recounting an instance of Jurian making a fool of himself at one of the human markets when you heard the front door of the townhouse open. You knew that Ruhn wouldn't be back for at least another hour. So whomever was downstairs was someone you were not expecting.

“(Y/N)?” Azriel’s voice floated up the stairs. Of course, it had to be one of the worst people to show up unexpectedly. Your eyes went wide, looking at Lucien whose eyes were equally wide.

“Under the bed!” You whisper shouted to the red-head. The two of you scrambled getting Lucien underneath your bed. You had just resettled on top of the mattress from fixing the sheets when Azriel’s head popped up around the corner of your door frame.

The conversation between the two of you was short with him asking if you wanted to go to a new bakery that had just opened. You politely declined, claiming that you weren’t feeling the best and were probably going to take a nap. If one thing could be said, Azriel had become much better about respecting your boundaries, so he excused himself and offered to go with you another time.

After hearing the front door close again, you rushed over to the top of the stairs to make sure that he truly left. When you returned to your room, you quickly shut the door and locked it just in case someone else decided to show up unannounced. You made your way back over to the bed and dropped down to the ground. Lifting the bedskirt you started to laugh.

“Comfy?” You asked, a wide grin spreading across your face as you looked at the male. Lucien was lying on his stomach, hair mussed from the effort in maneuvering himself around while under your mattress.

“Hardly.” His voice was less than amused as he attempted to crawl back out. The sight was one of the most entertaining you had witnessed in quite some time. His slow wiggling army crawl made him look more like a worm than the formidable predator that you knew Fae males to be. You couldn’t help but laugh loudly and fully. You laughed so hard that tears were streaming from your face and a slight pain bloomed on your side. You had not laughed like that since before your arrival in this world. The only thing that stopped you was the fact that you nearly triggered a coughing fit.

“This makes me feel like a teenager again,” You admitted between laughs. “When I had to hide my boyfriend from my parents. Azriel has a bit of a tendency to act like such a dad!” You erupted into another bout of boisterous laughter. “Daddy Az!” Lucien just stared at you, his expression torn between amusement and irritation. You just continued to cackle.

The two of you couldn’t always hide out in your bedroom though. Which is how you ended up in your current position on the couch, the dark gray curtains of the picture window overlooking the cobblestone street drawn shut. Your eyes focused back on the book in front of you. You kept your face as neutral as possible as the two main characters started to engage in a downright raunchy sex scene. You were no stranger to smutty stories, but the level of detail this author included was not what you were expecting. There was honestly no real plot to this book, just bold erotica.

The passage of the book ignited a longing in your core. Again, you were forced to rub your thighs together to try to alleviate the desire building inside you. Lucien’s fingers stopped their movement, carefully squeezing your thigh. You couldn’t tell if it was in response to anything you were doing or if he just wasn’t paying attention. Regardless, you recognized that your body was reacting to the scene too strongly. Fuck, you needed to get laid. Five years without sex is way too long.

You were so engrossed in your novel and the thoughts surrounding the passage that you didn’t hear the voices of those approaching the townhouse. You also didn’t hear the group enter and make their way into the parlor.

“Aww, aren’t you two sweet?” Bryce cooed from the entryway. Your body jolted from surprise. One would have thought the book in your hands burned your skin with how quickly you dropped it. That was nothing compared to the shriek you let out when Ruhn’s face appeared next to your shoulder.

“What are you reading?” His deep voice sent heat straight to your core. Goosebumps rose up along your arms as his breath fanned across your ear. He gave you a quick peck of a kiss to your cheek before leaning down to pick up the book. You felt Lucien’s grip on your thigh tighten before it went back to tracing indiscriminate patterns. His attention went to Bryce and Hunt, striking up a conversation with them. You reached for the book, but when you failed to answer Ruhn quickly enough, he pulled the novel away before you could get a decent grasp on it.

“Hey! I am reading that!” You screeched at the dark haired male. You attempted to go for the book again, but Ruhn pranced out of your reach.

“Well, isn’t this interesting.” He mused before exaggerating the clearing of his throat. The next sentence that came out of his mouth consisted of the most explicit erotica you had ever heard in your life. There was nothing left to the imagination at the graphic detail the author laid out. You felt the color drain from your face as the other three individuals immediately stopped their conversation while Ruhn continued to read in an overly dramatic fashion.

“I begged him for his seed. Begged him to fill me. I-” Ruhn scrunched his face as his eyes scanned the page. “Fucking Hel I’m not saying that out loud. You know if you’re interested in this material all you have to do is ask. I’d be glad to show you first hand.” Ruhn dangled the book in front of your face. A smirk stretching across his features.

Your hands reached for the book again, “Give that back.” You demanded. Your face burned red from the embarrassment that filled your chest. Ruhn pulled the book out of your reach a second time. Placing the corner of the novel against his cheek he hummed in playful contemplation.

“No.” His statement was simple. “If you want it, come get it.” With that he raced out of the room.

“Fucking asshole!” You seethed under your breath. Your embarrassment clouded your better judgment. A part of you knew that you fell for whatever scheme he was planning, but another part of you didn’t care as butterflies filled your stomach.

“You’re such a child!” You shouted, swinging your legs to the side of the couch. Without a second thought you raced after him, barely registering Bryce’s comment.

“She’s aware that she's just in that long tank top and panties right?” Bryce snickered.

As you rounded the corner into the front hall you saw the back door slam shut. You ran for the door, quickly following him into the back garden. You stomped over to Ruhn, his bright eyes lit up like the night sky. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of you having to ask a third time to return the book, so you simply held out your hand expectantly.

You honestly shouldn’t have expected that he would return the book so easily. No, Ruhn Danaan was a jerk that enjoyed teasing you at every possible opportunity. He held the book high above his head, completely out of your reach. But boy, did you make a spectacle of yourself trying to retrieve the item responsible for your shame. You jumped, arm extended upwards hoping to wrap your fingers around the book’s spine, only for Ruhn to move the book to his other hand. You smacked his chest and made a second attempt to jump for the book. However, you lost your balance as your foot landed on the tip of Ruhn’s boot.

The male caught you, his arms slipping around your waist to steady you. With the book now within your sights as it rested on your hip you spun yourself around with the hopes to finally catch it. Alas, you were bested by his supernatural Fae reflexes. His arm was back in the air, the book dangling above his head. His other arm tightened around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“Come on sweetness,” He mocked. His lips pressed against your ear. “You can do better than that can’t you?” You growled in frustration. The male just laughed, kissing the top of your head.

“Would you stop that,” You warned, attempting and failing to push his face away from yours. You didn’t want him to know the effect that his lips and breath against your skin caused. The shiver that traveled down your spine. The way your legs turned to jelly. You were grateful that his arm was around you, certain that your knees would give out otherwise. Desire built within you the longer he held you close, wrapped in his warmth.

“Did you know that when you’re aroused your scent takes on a slight hint of amber musk?” He crooned. He hadn’t moved his lips from their spot against your ear lobe. “It surprisingly complements the vanilla and honey very well.” Your eyes went wide and you whipped your head around to face him. You knew that the Fae had a more sensitive sense of smell, but you had been uncertain of the extent of this ability. The idea that anyone would be able to smell hormonal changes or emotions as if this were a poorly written omegaverse story, made you nervous. Knowing Ruhn was able to tell when you were aroused…You were absolutely mortified.

“Aww baby, don’t worry,” He tried to reassure you, but the teasing tone to his voice never dissipated. “I’m certain that I’m the only one to have picked up on that.” He paused, his voice almost clipped. “Perhaps Lucien too.” You groaned. It was one thing for Ruhn to notice and become familiar with your scent. He lived with you and slept next to you every night. Somehow you felt even more embarrassed to know that Lucien could also tell. You made a vow to never read another smutty book in either of their presences ever again.

“Just, give me the book Ruhn,” You were rapidly getting tired of this game.

“I will, if you tell me something about you that no one else knows,” He finally let you go. “And gimme a kiss.”

“A kiss? Really?” You were exasperated and leveled him with a glare. “Aren’t we both a bit old to act like immature and hormonal teenagers?”

“Maybe,” He mused, swinging the book in front of your face. “It doesn’t have to be more than a simple little peck.” You rolled your eyes. You stood there, tapping your foot with your hands on your hips as you pondered what to tell him.

“Fine,” You bemoaned. “Seeing as no one has asked me yet, I’ll let you know when my birthday is, and my exact age.” You crooked your finger, beckoning him to come closer. Once he was close enough, you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. You allowed your fingers to thread in his hair, his own hand coming to rest on your hip.

You had no idea where the sudden boldness came from, but you wanted to get back at him just a little. So, using your most seductive sounding voice you whispered the information into his year. Since you weren’t entirely sure if either Prythian or Midgard used the same calendar as your world, you gave an approximation of days after one of the main solar holidays which your birthday landed on. Had you angled your head differently you would have seen how his eyes practically rolled to the back of his head at the sound of your voice. What you did note was the tightening of his grip on your hip. You then topped off your performance with a small kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Oh that’s not fair. That was hardly a kiss.” He complained. “And there’s no way you’re that age.”

“I most certainly am. And you should have been more specific about the type of kiss you wanted,” You explained, offering him a sweet smile. “Book please.” Holding out both of your hands you patiently waited for him to comply. With an exaggerated sigh, he placed the racy novel into your awaiting hands. You beamed up at the male, lips parting to make a sarcastic remark when someone behind you cleared their throat. Lucien stood on the wooden deck, shifting from one foot to the next.

“I should be getting back to the human lands,” He announced, eyes focusing on Ruhn. A harsh expression crossed his features.

“Okay,” You nodded, choosing to ignore how Lucien’s gaze never left the other male’s, and quickly ran up to him. He opened his arms, enveloping you in a hug as part of your usual parting routine. You embraced him as well, taking in a deep breath as you pressed your nose against his neck. You knew that your sense of smell wasn’t anything like the Fae’s, incapable of picking out each and every specific scent that made up the whole. But that didn’t stop you from wanting to memorize the way he smelled. You couldn’t put your finger on any one particular fragrance, the only thing your mind could determine was that he just smelled like a warm and cozy autumn afternoon. Ruhn had his own scent in your mind as well. Again, nothing that you could describe beyond the way it made you feel at ease and secure.

Lucien held you close, his own face buried against your neck. Perhaps he also found comfort in the way you smelled. You suddenly remembered Ruhn’s comment, of the two of them being able to smell your arousal. Carefully you pulled away from Lucien before wishing him a safe journey back to his shared home with Vassa and Jurian. The males gave each other a small nod, and within the blink of an eye Lucien was gone.

Lucien had lost count of how many times he read the passage in the center of the page of his open book. His attention continuously strayed to the woman whose legs were draped over his lap. Her attention focused on the novel in her own hands lent to her by Nesta, eyes darting side to side as her gaze swept over what must have been truly tantalizing material. Especially if the intoxicatingly sweet aroma spilling off her was anything to go by.

It took effort for him to keep his breaths steady, fighting against the desperate desire to inhale deeply every time the breeze brushed through the open window and ruffling her hair. His left hand rested across her plump thighs, fingertips tracing lazy designs along the outer side. Every now and again the softest hum would slip past her lips. The sound caused his cock to twitch against the fabric of his trousers.

The scent of her arousal was thick and heady. He glanced over to her, careful not to rouse suspicion that he was watching. A thin lacy off-white strap of her light blue cotton top slipped off her shoulder. The simple item was one that Bryce had given her for the Winter Solstice last year, and her breasts looked sinful whenever she wore it. Another breeze flitted past, and Lucien watched as her nipples peaked underneath the fabric. Mother above; he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the groan that wanted out.

An eternity passed by as he debated on giving up his attempts to read entirely. The need to taste her was damn near overwhelming. That desire quickly won out. Without another thought he allowed his fingers to trail higher up the exposed silken flesh of her thigh, slowly moving towards the apex between her legs. He delicately brushed over the outline of her pubic mound before moving on to the opposite leg. He watched intently as her breath became shallow, hitching when his fingers teased over the sensitive area again. Her eyes stopped their flitting movement from taking in the words on the pages before her, however, she didn’t bring her attention to him. Instead, she parted her legs just enough for him to dip his hand between them. A silent invitation.

He accepted the gift that was offered to him, and curled his fingers between the limbs, pressing the outside of his pinky against the thin fabric of her matching panties. Ever since their trip to the Day Court she stopped wearing any articles of clothing that would obscure her legs from his view when they were alone together. He had no complaints, secretly loving the fact that she felt confident enough to show them off. Her breath hitched again. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, pleased with the reaction he was eliciting from her. He moved his hand up and down, dragging the edge of it along her folds. She spread her legs a little further, and Lucien felt the damp spot that had seeped through the cotton material.

Lucien turned his head to better look at the woman. Her book swayed in her grip as her eyes fluttered shut from the pleasure she was already feeling. He pressed his hand further between her legs and hooked his pinky finger under the fabric separating her flesh from his. He smirked with satisfaction; she was absolutely soaked. She whimpered as his finger wriggled in between her folds, inching closer to that precious bundle. Her body went taut as soon as he made contact, and her eyes found him. His grin was triumphant.

Her book fell to the side, thumping against the carpet beneath the couch they lounged upon. Lucien tossed aside his own book, not caring where it landed in the parlor. He twisted to face her, her legs falling open for him. Wordlessly his hand traveled up to the waistband of her underwear and began to pull down. Lifting her hips, she allowed him to remove the garment. His mouth watered at the sight of her glistening cunt before him. He maneuvered himself lower, bracing his forearms on the cushions. Gently pulling on her leg to bring her closer, she then angled her hips to give him better access to her center. He kissed his way up the inside of one thigh, gently blowing warm air over her folds, and kissed back down the opposite thigh. She stifled a moan at the contact. He wrapped one arm around the thigh resting against the back of the couch, pinning her in place. His other hand traced up the inside of her opposite leg, gently pushing it further out, opening her to him completely.

He looked at her again, her chest rising and falling from breathlessness. She made no move to stop him, so he descended upon her. He brushed his nose along the seam of her entrance. Her inhale sharp and sudden as he trailed it over her clit. His tongue soon followed, dragging along from the base of her entrance, dipping in to collect her honeyed essence on his tongue. He moaned at her flavor, his cock now hard and straining against his trousers. His tongue languidly found its way up to her clit, gently circling around it. The needy whimper she made was music to his ears, encouraging him to recreate an intricate dance over her sensitive pearl.

He brought his hand up and spread her lips, before flicking over her bud with the strong muscle. She cried out, her hand winding its way into his hair. He grinned in satisfaction as she held him close to her. He gave his undivided attention to that bundle of nerves. Alternating between the tip and flat of his tongue pressing against her. She called his name when he wrapped his lips around her pearl and sucked. Her head was thrown back in complete bliss. She didn’t hold back any of her pleasured moans, and he relished the sound.

He buried his face further into her, moving to dip his tongue deep in her core. Her hips bucked, seeking more stimulation. Lucien was all too happy to oblige. A quick kiss to her clit and he backed away. Running his fingers through her wetness, he coated the digits before sinking two into her awaiting opening. He almost came from the pleasured cry she released.

Encouraged by her voice, his lips wrapped around her pearl again. He thrust his fingers a few times, feeling along the velvety walls for the spot that would make her see stars. Upon finding it, he began to massage the spot with the pads of his fingers. More of her essence flowed from her, dripping onto the cushions below and coating the fabric with evidence from how good he was making her feel.

He could stay here, licking her core for hours if she’d let him. Cauldron, he prayed she would let him. She was so sweet, with just the right hint of musk. She squirmed her hips, but his grip on her only tightened. Her walls began to clamp around his long fingers as they continued to massage against that soft spot. Pride filled his chest. She was going to come soon, surprisingly quickly too. Not wanting to disappoint his love he wrapped his lips around her clit again and sucked harshly. She cried out as her legs began to shake. Lucien sped up the pace of his fingers inside her, matching it with the flicking of his tongue against her bud. Within seconds she came. Hard. Her walls pulsated with the pounding of her heart. He slowed his movements, but didn’t stop, wanting to savor the taste of her just a little longer.

The sound of thunder roared through the manor, instantly jolting Lucien from the dream. He growled at the fact that nature had the gall to disturb and wake him. He turned his head to the side to see the chilled droplets of water splattering against the window of his room. The human lands were always dreary this time of year. Actually, to be honest they were dreary in general, regardless of the time of year. However, that was probably to be expected south of the wall. Even with the wall gone these past five years magic had largely stayed within the Prythian Fae lands.

Lucien groaned again, his hands rubbing along his face. He threw off the cream colored wool blanket, leaving him only covered by the matching cotton sheet. He shifted his legs only to feel the sheet get caught on his hard cock. Looking down he grunted in frustration. This hadn’t been his first sex dream, but it was the first where (Y/N) was involved.

He was with her just the day before and wondered if this was the reason she occupied his thoughts. Her scent had been intoxicating as they sat on the couch together, basking in each other’s company. If he had to be honest with himself the dream was just a manifestation of the actions he wanted to take before they were interrupted. He groaned again. He shouldn’t be thinking of her this way. She was his friend. Yet, he couldn’t help it when the memory of her bare breasts would sneak past his defenses in the middle of the day.

He took several deep breaths, hoping that would help him calm down. After a few minutes he could no longer stand the throbbing sensation of his member. Pulling the sheets back he looked down at his body. His cock stretched up towards his navel, hovering just above his torso. The tip glistened as lighting lit up the room. He sighed, having no choice other than to take care of the issue.

Lucien allowed his hand to traverse down his body. If he was going to do this he may as well make it enjoyable. His large hand reached the part of him begging for attention. Gently he traced the tips of his fingers down the underside of his shaft, the touch caused him to hiss through his teeth. He continued on downward to massage his scrotum. His hips canted up as pleasure bloomed. He called forth an image of Elain in his mind. Surely it was permissible for him to think of his mate in this context, even if she was still processing the mating bond and didn’t appear to want anything to do with him. They had the time for her to process and come to a decision. So, he could let his imagination build an idea of her in his head.

His hand went to his shaft, thumb spreading the pearl beads of liquid that flowed out. He continued to hold the picture of Elain in his mind, but it was a struggle. He kept having to consciously drag his mind back to her as it kept wandering to thoughts of (Y/N). His hand caressed along his length until it was flush against his base, squeezing as it traveled down. He performed the same action as his hand returned to the head of his cock. More liquid spilled forth and the image of (Y/N)’s tongue licking the substance from his tip slammed to the forefront of his mind.

He moaned at the mental image of the woman, bent over between his legs. He spread them further apart ever so slightly as to make space for her body. He truly wondered what her mouth would feel like wrapped around him. How far would she be able to take him? Would she have to use her hand to caress what she couldn’t fit? How would her mouth compare to being inside her. He could easily picture her perched above him, slowly lowering herself to allow his cock to breach her warm cunt.

Lucien warmed his hand to the temperature he imagined would wrap around him once he was fully sheathed inside. The moan that left his lips was louder than he intended. He quickly brought his free hand to his lips to muffle any other sounds that may slip out without his permission.

He picked up the pace as he continued to picture her bouncing above him. An image of the way her breasts would bounce with the movement entered his mind. He remembered how full and heavy they looked. Gods, he had desperately wanted to wrap his lips around her peaked nipples that morning in the Day Court.

He wondered if things would have been any different if they had given into their desires that night, or even that morning when they sobered up. Would he be able to act upon the thoughts that filtered through? Allow himself to sink deep into her warmth as they made love? His hand continued running up and down, up and down, giving quick and firm squeezes as needed along the most sensitive parts of his shaft. He could feel pressure building in the pit of his lower abdomen, his balls tightening by a fraction. His hand moved faster as the mental version of (Y/N) rotating her hips. She would do her best to reach her own climax, wanting her euphoria to peak in time with him.

Lucien stroked his member a few more times before that pressure boiled over. Ropes of cum spurted forth, coating parts of his abdomen. The orgasm went on longer than any he had before. A second wave caused his seed to dribble over his hand. His hand slowed and eventually stopped.

Pulling away from his softening length he slowed his breathing. He sat up, bringing his legs over the side of the bed. Standing, he walked over to the small pitcher and basin that rested on the top of the narrow dresser in the corner of his room. He quickly cleaned himself off and returned to the bed. As he returned to a horizontal position the reality of what he did finally caught up with him.

He came to the thought of his best friend riding him. Why? What the hell was wrong with him? It was true he missed her, despite spending more time with her in secret. Maybe that was the reason the image of her was called to his mind. Since Elain continued to push him aside, his mind instead conjured the female he missed the most, giving him pleasure he didn’t even know he craved.

It was hard to admit, but the time spent with the otherworldly woman occupied his thoughts more and more frequently. He could only assume that his growing affection was due to the time spent with her. (Y/N) never truly wanted him out of her life. Their agreement to separate was just to stop the others from talking and meddling in what should have been just between him and his friend.

Besides, he didn’t believe that she would be interested in him in that regard. Not when she had become so close to Ruhn. The way that the male looked at her, his need to constantly touch her and her easy acceptance of that affection sent a pang through Lucien’s chest. Yes, she was more likely to be interested in Ruhn than him. Lucien made himself believe his feelings weren’t more than a quick and fleeting infatuation anyway. She could actually create a life with Ruhn. Lucien concluded that he should let her have that life, if she so chooses. He would be perfectly content to continue their friendship.

With his thoughts starting to settle, he listened to the rain that continued its assault on the manor he shared with Vassa and Jurian. Soon after he drifted off to sleep, but his dreams wouldn’t so easily let her go. Later that morning, Lucien found himself repeating the cycle from the night before. Perhaps he was in more trouble than he wanted to admit.

The smell of sauteed garlic filled the townhouse when you entered. Having just returned from the Day Court with Lucien, your stomach rumbled. The week you spent there had been fruitless yet again. You were starting to believe that the information you so desperately sought simply did not exist. It had been too long without any real headway. Which didn’t make any sense. According to Nesta, one of the Night Court priestesses had, at one point, compiled research regarding other worlds. Therefore, the sources should reasonably exist. Then again, her research was more about proving the existence of other worlds, not necessarily travel between them.

Still you clung on to some version of hope. For your next trip you were planning on going to a much older library set in the middle of the Day Court territory. According to Helion it was the oldest library in Prythian, built along the edge of a river. He explained that not only did the library house books and scrolls, but it held artifacts as well. You had to admit that you were excited for that aspect. If you couldn’t find a way home you could at least learn as much about this land that you found yourself in.

“Ouch! Shit!” Ruhn’s shout interrupted your thoughts. You made your way into the kitchen to see said male using one hand to pour scalding water into the basin of the sink. He shook his other hand at his side, likely from the splash of the water as it hit the porcelain.

“What is all this?” You asked, glancing around at the chaos. The kitchen island was covered in debris from cut vegetables, herbs, and what appeared to be a partial cheese wedge. At least three saucepans were on the stove top, not including the large pot he held. Ruhn chuckled nervously as he twisted to face you.

“You’re, uh, a bit early,” He set the pot back on the stovetop. “I was hoping to have this done by the time you got here.” You were utterly confused.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” You pointed out. You made your way further into the kitchen, the smell of garlic and onion making your stomach growl.

“Well, I would hope that’s a bit obvious.” He smiled and your stomach filled with butterflies. “But in case it isn’t, I made you dinner.” You didn’t know how to react. It was by far one of the sweetest gestures you had received in a while. It seemed that most of the people in your life were fond of giving gifts, so something as simple as a homemade dinner was new.

“Okay,” You still didn’t understand why he would go through this trouble of making dinner. “Why?” You couldn’t help but be cautious. While Ruhn had given you no reason to doubt his intentions, gestures like this reminded you of a past negative relationship. One of your ex’s would perform these grand gestures or even small acts of service, only to remind you of his “generosity” when he wanted something.

Ruhn didn’t answer, but simply smiled as he continued moving about the kitchen. Cooked noodles and a few veggies were tossed into a white sauce that bubbled on the stove top. He gathered a couple of plates, setting them on the only clear spot between the stove and sink. One of his shadows managed to fetch a pair of crystal wine glasses from the cupboard. You could smell the sharp sweetness of the pale wine as he poured half a glass for you.

“Come on Ruhn,” You placed a hand on top of his to gain his attention. “What is this all for?”

“Today’s your birthday isn’t it?” The question rattled you. It took a few seconds for you to begin the mental calculations, and sure enough he was right. Today was your birthday. Ruhn had resumed plating the pasta dish, and therefore missed your stunned expression, surprised by the fact that he remembered. Then again, he was the only one that even knew. The reminder that no one else had even bothered to ask in the years that you had been here stung. However, you were determined to not let that ruin his thoughtfulness.

“Follow me,” He instructed, rounding his way around the island, both plates in hand and piled high with the best smelling white wine garlic sauce that you could imagine. Excited for what the night could bring you followed as he instructed.

You had gotten through half of your meal when Ruhn placed a rectangular black box slightly larger than your palm on the table directly in front of you. Your laughter fizzled out as you stared at the object. The butterflies were back, swirling around and threatening to fly up and out of your throat. You hadn’t expected any of this, neither dinner nor a gift, when you told him of your birthday.

“Happy Birthday, again,” He smiled. The expression was so genuine and filled with adoration. Your heart stuttered. You looked between him and the box with wide eyes. It had been nearly four years without anyone even bothering to ask about your birthday. You were aware of everyone else’s birthdays, and at least the approximate time for Cassian’s. Everyone else received at the very least well wishes and at most celebrations were held. Yet still no one had directly asked you about yours.

“That’s not,” You had to swallow the lump that was forming. You could only point to the object lying before you. “That’s not-”

“It’s not jewelry,” He chuckled, “If that’s what you’re worried about.” You let out a relieved sigh.

“What is it then?”

“You’ll have to open it if you want to find out.” He reasoned, sliding the box closer towards you. With nervous fingers you reached for it. The item was simple and reminded you of thick cardboard. The lid slid off easily, the bottom half thunking slightly against the wooden table top. Inside was what resembled a smartphone. The large black screen was dark and reflected the lights from the small chandelier above.

Confusion crossed your features. What were you supposed to do with a cell phone living in Prythian? You couldn’t exactly use it. There were no cell towers or access to any network that would allow you to make calls or send messages. The only thing that it could be used for is a place to store music and photos. Maybe even a game that didn’t require any internet. You also had no way of keeping the phone powered up. From what you could gather, faelights and firstlight were entirely different energy sources from each other and different from the energy sources you had on Earth. So what was the reason for a gift like this? It wasn’t as if you weren’t grateful, just confused.

“Turn it on,” Ruhn encouraged. He clearly knew something that you didn’t. You could tell the male was eager for you to find out whatever it was he had planned. You followed his instruction, powering on the device. The screen lit up, slowly going from one load screen to the next. The names of the manufacturing company and service provider were different from your own, yet still provided a sense of familiarity. When the phone finally loaded, you were greeted with an image you thought would be forever lost to you.

The background image of the phone’s home screen was the most recent picture you had taken of your nephew before your life had changed. For the briefest of moments everything went still as you stared at the image. You had no words. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing as the tears brimmed your eyes.

Slowly Ruhn reached over, tapping one of the two icons and a music player replaced your homescreen. He scrolled down, titles of songs flying by. It took you a moment to realize that you recognized some of them. Your brows furrowed, confusion blooming yet again. You tried to remember if there had ever been any discussion of your world having the same songs or artists as those on Midgard, but your mind came up empty. There was no way…

Your question was answered as Ruhn backed out of the music app and opened the phone’s image gallery. Your gasp was audible. Tiles of images from your life on Earth filled the screen. You scrolled through the gallery. Eventually you came to a few that you didn’t initially recognize. You clicked on the tile, causing it to expand. The image of you holding Nyx at your first Starfall forced the tears to drip from your eyes. You scrolled right to view another image. One where Ruhn had joined you and the little heir. Waves of longing washed over you.

“I-I…H-,” You lifted your hand towards your throat as you struggled to find your voice. “How?” Your tongue felt heavy as you tried to retain some composure. You couldn’t look at the male, afraid that you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together. This was without a doubt the most thoughtful gift you had received in your life.

“I asked my friend, Declan,” Ruhn explained, his voice uncharacteristically soft and timid. “He’s a tech genius.” You continued to scroll through the new images. You had been completely unaware that your picture was being taken as often as it was, most of the images being candid shots of you and Ruhn together. You almost didn’t recognize yourself. Not just because your body had clearly adjusted to a life with less processed foods and regular exercise, but you appeared happy in every picture with the male. Genuinely happy. When did that happen?

“Why?” The question was a hushed whisper. This didn’t make any sense. Why would he do this for you? Why was he doing anything for you? Even if Lucien asked him to help make sure you stayed safe, Ruhn was under no obligation to go to the extent that he has for you. So why?

“Dec managed to transfer over most of the music and photo data that was on your phone,”

Ruhn continued, dragging his chair closer towards you. “We weren’t even sure if it would work, but I’m happy it did.”

“What do you mean?” He looked puzzled, as if the answer, his motivation was the most obvious thing in the world. The obvious reason would be that he considered you a friend. But that reason alone wasn’t sufficient for all that he did.

“I-I don’t understand,” Words were failing you as you continued to stare at the phone. “Why…are you so good to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He continued to speak as if the answer was obvious. “You deserve to feel special and cared for. You’re important to me and I…care about you.”

“You care about me?” You finally turned to look at him.

“Yes.” He smiled again.

“You asked your friend to-” You had to swallow before your words got away from you. “This…all of this is because you care about me?”

“Yes.” His chuckle was gentle as he brushed his knuckles against the side of your face. You hadn’t realized how close his face was to yours. Your eyes flitted down to the curve of his full mouth, and before you could stop yourself you pressed your lips against his. Your body felt alight, zapped and thrumming with electricity. You pulled away just as quickly, eyes going wide. You didn’t mean to kiss him. Or at least, you think you didn’t mean to. Your emotions just took over. Surely he would understand that it was an accident.

“I’m…I’m sor-” But your words were muffled as he chased your kiss with one of his own. As your lips met for a second time, everything slowed down and sped up simultaneously. Ruhn’s hold on you felt like a dream, his large warm hands cradling your face. Electricity skittered down your spine as one of the hands moved towards the back of your neck. A familiar gentle tug at your roots settled the nerves that raced through your veins.

As you eased into the kiss, your hands came to rest on his shoulders to help ground yourself. You felt as if you were floating; though you weren’t entirely sure that you would have minded if you never came back down. All thoughts in your mind jumbled and turned fuzzy as his lips caressed and melded with your own. With each passing second you craved more of him.

You almost wondered if he was able to read your thoughts when his hands drifted down your body, dancing over every curve until they found the small of your back. He pulled you closer towards the edge of your chair, before separating your mouths, breaths intermingling between you.

Quicker than you could comprehend, you felt your body being lifted. The next thing you knew you were planted on the table top with Ruhn placed between your thighs as he towered over you. Plates and utensils clanged against each other and your wine glasses rattled from the force your bodies had on the wood. Your head was forced to angle up in order to reach his lips again. As you reconnected, Ruhn’s tongue traced along the seam of your closed lips. Without any hesitation you opened up to him, allowing him the opportunity to explore.

Kissing Ruhn made you feel alive, blood vibrating with the racing of your heart. Goosebumps rose along every inch of skin as his hands wandered over your body. His kiss was all encompassing, every one of your senses on high alert and zoned in on the feel of him against you. The only sounds in the room consisted of your mingled breaths and the repeated meeting of your lips.

Ruhn’s calloused hand traveled down the side of your waist, passing over your hips to come to rest on your lower left thigh. Fingers wrapped around the back of your knee, grip tight and secure. In a fluid motion he tugged you forward, wrapping the limb around his hip. The movement caused you to fall back, but you caught yourself on your elbows. Ruhn leaned over you, pushing you further back to lay flat against the table.

Excitement raced through you at the thought of him taking you in the middle of the dining room. Ruhn’s mouth separated from yours and began to trace along the side of your neck. His quick breaths tickled your skin. Your hands traveled up his arms, one lingering on his bicep while the other continued to wrap tightly in his hair. You guided him to a spot on your neck that made your toes curl. Ruhn sucked on the spot of your pulse point, just below your ear. You whimpered at the tingling sensation that shot down the right side of your body, warmth spreading throughout your core. Gods, you wanted him. Wanted him sheathed deep inside you, rutting and grinding to bring you to the brink of an orgasm.

“Fuck Ruhn,” You moaned. He grunted in reply, doubling down on his attention to that spot on your neck. Something nagged at the back of your mind, but you shoved it aside. Soon his lips trailed further down, kissing their way along the front of your throat and collar bones. His head dipped lower, down to your cleavage.

“Ruhn,” You whined. “Slow-slow down.” However, it appeared he was too lost in his lust to have heard you. That nagging sensation in the back of your mind appeared again.

“Ruhn, baby,” You tried to gain his attention again. “I need-”

“I love it when you say my name.” His mouth moved back as he hummed, lowering the collar of your dress. In another motion he moved aside the cup of your bra, exposing one breast to the cool air of the dining room. You could feel the bud peak from the sudden lack of warmth. His nose brushed around your nipple, and your hips canted up toward his pelvis. Your response surly was a favorable one as in the next instance his mouth enveloped the stiff bud.

“Oh Gods!” You pulled at the roots of his midnight hair as his tongue began to gently lave over your nipple. “Ruhn, please wa-”

“It’s okay Lidia. I’ve got you.” His words forced reality to slam back into you like the coldest winter winds.

“What did you just say?” You grabbed his face, forcing Ruhn to look at you. The blue of his irises were nearly obscured by the blown pupils. “Ruhn!”

“What?” Ruhn blinked in surprise at the strength the woman used to push him away. His hands had to brace themselves on the edge of the table so that he didn’t fall on top of her.

“You just called me Lidia,” Her voice was strained. The expression on her features a mix of emotions, each one vying to overtake the other to gain control of how she would react.

“No,” Ruhn’s voice was breathless as he reeled back to a standing position above her. “No. Fuck…I-I didn’t...” Guilt washed over him as he looked at the woman before him. What the fuck was wrong with him? He didn’t mean to say that name. He knew that he was with (Y/N). He was ecstatic that he was finally getting to hold and touch her in the way he craved since well before their first Starfall. He allowed his mind to be clouded by lust.

“Was she…was Lidia the female that saved your life?” (Y/N)’s tone was somber, yet held a slight wobble. Ruhn looked down, afraid to meet her pained gaze. He noticed that her naked breast was still on display. Her eyes followed his stare and she hastily fixed her dress to cover herself.

“I…” He tried to swallow his shame. “Yes, but I didn’t-”

“Yet you did Ruhn,” She moved off the table. Arms wrapping around herself, she sat back in her chair.

“She doesn’t mean anything,” He tried to reassure her, but even he knew that it was a lie. He didn’t understand, honestly he didn’t allow himself to understand exactly what Lidia meant to him. His feelings were jumbled like a pile of worms. A perfect reflection of how he currently felt looking at how she caved in on herself.

The situation with Lidida was complex to say the least. He had grown to care for Agent Daybright. Hel, he had suspicions that there was something greater at work that brought them together. That was until he found out who she really was. Day, his Day, was none other than The Hind. The very same female known for hunting down and destroying any rebel life that dared make itself known on her radar. But Lidia had been a double agent. Years later and Ruhn was still trying to wrap his head around this revelation.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” (Y/N) begged. Ruhn couldn’t focus his attention on the present moment.

“Do what? Baby I-”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Her bitter yell shot down his spine. “Please.” He was shocked that she yelled, actually yelled. He couldn’t blame her for that though. He called her by another female’s name. Something that no one deserved, but especially her. Ruhn knew that (Y/N) already had doubts and insecurities. He had vowed to himself that he would build her up, make her see just how desirable and worth loving she was. He thought he had finally succeeded when she initiated that first kiss. Yet despite his physical attention being on her, his use of the wrong name unraveled everything in an instant.

“I’m not an idiot, so please do not try to play this off,” She began, her voice taking on an edge of cynicism. However, she took a breath before continuing. “I recognize that it’s complicated, at least from what little Bryce told me, but Lidia clearly meant something to you.” Complicated was putting it in the most simplistic of terms. When he found out who Lidia was, he felt betrayed. Played like a fiddle for a fool. It didn’t matter how much the female tried to talk to him through whatever bond had been forged. It didn’t matter how he would always regret shutting her out during that week, only for her to die making sure that he got out safe and alive.

“Bryce talked to you about Lidia?” Ruhn’s own voice hardened. He felt like he had been punched in the gut. He had intentionally never mentioned Lidia’s name to (Y/N) before. He didn’t see the need since the female was no longer living and all of his attention was focused on the woman by his side day in and day out.

“Well you certainly didn’t,” She snapped. “And I still had to ask her several times before she finally gave any information.” The (h/c) woman sighed, shoulders slumping forward from an invisible heaviness.

“Why did you ask her?” Ruhn knew the answer. Ruhn knew that he rarely even talked about the events that lead to him getting involved with the human rebellion against the Asteri. But it was for good reason. His life had been completely turned upside down, he didn’t want to add on to anyone else’s shit. It didn’t matter that Hunt argued that (Y/N) would understand. Ruhn didn’t want to add the burden of his feelings on to her, not with all she had been through.

“You wouldn’t open up, and I didn’t know what else to do!” She almost seemed defeated by her growing frustration. “Did you really think that I didn’t notice there were days where you were struggling? Did you think I didn’t notice when you became distant? Your gaze unfocused and attention elsewhere? Did you think that I wouldn’t listen?” Her accusation stung. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her. Ruhn couldn’t. He couldn’t tell her any of this. For all that he wanted he just couldn’t open up to her. It was his job to take care of her, not the other way around. Not when her existence meant so much. But he had failed her too. He hurt her and there was no excuse. His throat constricted with remorse.

“We’ve spent nearly four years getting to know each other,” The soft laugh that escaped her sounded beaten and on the verge of breaking. “Three of those years have been spent sleeping in the same bed almost every night. You have supported me in ways that I will never ever be able to repay. You know so much about me and my needs. I know next to nothing about you.” She wiped at her cheek, flicking away the tear that managed to slip past. He wanted to reassure her, but all he could manage was to remain silent and unmoving. The shame kept him frozen. Who knew that a single name could cause such turmoil?

“I’ve tried Ruhn. I have asked questions about your life and your interests. All to see if you would open up to me in the ways I have shared with you; but I feel constantly shut out from anything that is meaningful. I don’t know what else to do.” Another silent tear slipped down. She sounded so tired.

“I know that everyone heals in their own time, and I don’t want to force you to do something that you are not ready for. But if there is to be anything between us,” Her tone became a plea, “If there are any genuine feelings, then I need you to share yourself with me. I want to know who you are and support you when you need comfort. It is only fair.” Ruhn knew that she was right. That Hunt was right. She would be the only one that would be able to understand the upheaval and veering trajectory that his life had taken.

“I also,” She suddenly became much more hesitant. “I also need to know that you are able to differentiate me from her. I shouldn’t have to compete with a ghost. I deserve more than to be a consolation prize.” Her last statement felt like a slap in the face. He knew she didn’t deserve that, but he also recognized how easy it was for her to feel that way. Lidia essentially gave her life for Ruhn. He would forever feel responsible and grateful to her. So when he referred to the woman in front of him by his almost lover, he made all of her insecurities come true.

“I am so sorry,” His voice cracked, desperate to apologize. “That was a fucking shitty thing for me to do. You don’t deserve that. I-I know that. I just…” How was he supposed to explain something that he didn’t fully understand?

“It’s fine,” The words were clipped, acidic and dismissive. This situation was a far cry from fine as she looked away. He wished she would rage and lash out at him, not this quiet acceptance of suffering. Didn’t she feel safe enough to speak her mind and show all of her emotions with him?

“You don’t need to explain anything tonight. Take the time that you need, and know that I am here if you need me,” The sentiment was sincere, even if her voice felt empty as she continued to stare off into the corner. “But I think that it may be best for us to sleep in separate rooms. At least for a few days.” His breath shuddered, throat closing as he held back his own tears, but he nodded his agreement. He didn’t want to be separated from her, but understood why she wanted some space.

“Do-” He cleared his throat. “Do you want the tonic then?” He fiddled with one of the rings on his hand. He sent a shadow to collect the bottle from the spot he kept it stored.

“Yes,” Her tone wavered. “I can mix it though. You should get some rest.” The bright clinking of the bottle hitting the table was deafening in the now quiet dining room. Ruhn watched in silence as she uncorked her liquid salvation, splashing a few drops into the rest of her wine. He didn’t stop her. Her gaze remained averted, fingers gracefully lingering on the stem of the clear glass. He moved to get a better look at her.

“(Y/N),” His voice died in his throat at the emptiness he found in her gaze. She shifted her face ever further away, a clear indication that their conversation for the evening was over.

General tag list: @loving-and-dreaming

Series tag list: @jenniferpendragon @impossibelle @sweet-chai-amore @myheartfollower @iimichie

@fightmedraco @nikkitch0703 @eerievixen @ang-taylorsversion

@randomness-it-is @thehighlordishere @rachelnicolee @hardcoremarvelfan @awkardnerd @sundayysunshine

@jpgtae @cheneyq @morganwdarius @latinxbipride @catharticlovewriter

#acotar x reader #crescent city x reader #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #ruhn x reader #lucien vanserra x plus size reader #azriel x plus size reader #ruhn danaan x plus size reader #ruhn danaan x reader #bhinfic #acotar smut #lucien vanserra smut

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the--artist · 14 days

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Donna Beneviento and her Dance with Duality - An Analysis

9/10/24

Pretext: Donna Beneviento (ドナ・ベネヴィエント) is a character from Resident Evil 8 - a horror, first-shooting video game. She is one of the four lords that you/the protag Ethan Winters have to fight to collect four flasks which contain the body parts for Ethan to resurrect his daughter. This game also includes the wildly popular - Lady Demitrescu - the huge vampire gothic lady who entranced everyone on the sexuality spectrum everywhere.

While the four lords, themselves, are the evil antagonists of the story, they all have sympthetic (and unsympethetic) backstories and reasoining for doing what they do. They are all campy and stupid as well as menacing and frighting. For this anlysis I want to focus on one my favorite character from all time - Donna Beneviento - the quiet doll maker and the second lord we have to defeat.

Before I get started, thank you @celezztia for motivating me to write this! You are great mutual. Also thanks to @krisssssssy as well!

While it might not be as evident on the first watch/playthrough, Donna Beneviento walks this thin line with duality - a struggle and blessing for her. From her crest to her doll Angie, there are so many signs of an indecisive individual. Although her lack of screen time might make Beneviento seem boring or flat, there is a lot of pretext in her environment, personality, and choices that offer a lot to her character.

I wanted to write an analysis of this aspect of her and dive deep into what this could mean for Beneviento's character. Of course, there are plenty of different ways of interpreting her character since she is literally DROWNED in mystery, so feel free to criticize my analysis. I'd love to discuss it!!!

Angie Beneviento

...Okay, starting with the biggest showcase of this duality is Angie. Angie was a doll that Lady Beneviento got from her father and was very dear to her. She would play with it very often as she was lonely and cast out for having a scar on her face. Through the Gardner's Diary, we can see that Angie started to become more alive and alive after Donna was adopted.

Coming back to the present time, I think it's really interesting to question how Angie has SUCH a different personality from Donna. Is Angie Donna's split personality? Or is Angie just being 100% controlled by Donna - but just showcasing another aspect of Donna. The issue with this problem is that there is almost equal evidence for both sides of the argument.

During the final battle sequence, Donna is seen puppeteering Angie, and Angie then starts talking with Ethan. This could be used as proof that Angie needs Donna to function. Even during Ethan's trial, we see Donna with Angie. Donna has always been referred to as the puppeteer as well, which makes a lot of sense in this case. In scenes where we only interact with Angie, we can assume that Donna must be invisible and/or controlling Angie from a distance.

Proof that Angie is a separate person can reside in the fact that Angie is so much more loud, obnoxious, and berating than Donna. Donna struggles with talking as her voice is hoarse and dry - showcasing that she doesn't really speak - while Angie's voice is clear and loud. It also possible that the codou in Donna's brain allowed her to express a side of her that she felt she couldn't in the normal world, thereby creating Angie. It's also worth mentioning that Angie is never addressed as Donna in the game. Everyone mentions Donna and Angie separately.

The way the codou is unfortunately never really discussed, so it becomes very difficult to pinpoint how to treat Angie and Donna. But in both cases, they both showcase the duality of Benenviento. One quiet and calm (the Donna that everyone knows - including the gardener) and the loud Angie.

[Donna picking up Angie]

Thinking about why Angie's personality is the way it also interests me a lot. Since one can assume Donna had always been quiet and shy (basically showing no characteristics of Angie) before the codou, it is really interesting to me how a character like Donna ends up jelling with Angie. Is it because Angie is incredibly determined, attention-grabbing, and dominant? Did Donna need a way to interact with others while still keeping her comfort and distance? From the gardener's diary, it doesn't seem abnormal for a child (or even a teen) to speak to a doll when they are lonely. But I would assume a doll like Angie would have become less obnoxious if Donna was using Angie for comfort, no? When making friends in-person or online, don't we seek familiarity with others? So why did Donna feel the need to make her best friend so different?

I personally lean into the theory that Donna must have not gotten much affection, attention, and comfort during her childhood. The isolation coming from the death of her parents as well as having no friends must have forced Donna to seek out a way to express that. When the cadou was implanted in Donna's brain, this desire (separated now from Donna or not) led these desires to resurface and help deal with her current situation. If Donna needs attention from Mother Miranda, she doesn't have to speak at all, Angie can do it for her. Angie can grab attention for her. Angie can intimidate Ethan for her. Angie can accomplish all these things for Donna without her actually having to interact with them. I believe that when Donna was playing with Angie all those years ago, she must have expressed that loneliness to Angie - resulting in who Angie is today.

[Angie pushing Heisenburg and Demitrscu to fight, while a playful Donna watches her doll]

Beneviento's Design (feat Angie)

Alright!!! Now on to my favorite part of this analysis, Donna and Angie's design!

It's no secret that Donna is dressed up in mourning attire and Angie is dressed in a wedding dress. But the duality between both of their outfits is so insane! The fact that Donna is wearing all black and is pale as the moon, while Angie has grey skin but wears all white? Both of their outfits look worn and old as well. They both share a marking on the right side of their face which has the codou implantation (Donna) and moon crescent (Angie). Donna is very beautiful but hides her face with a veil while Angie is less beautiful (please don't go after me!) but shows her face loud and clear. Donna is so afraid to be seen but is ironically being seen through Angie when you consider all the design elements they have in common.

One can assume Donna wears a mourning veil to showcase her constant mourning for Claudia Beneviento (...I might make another post on this idk yet on who I believe she could be) and her parents. There is so much death that this girl has experienced that it has put her in a constant state of mourning. There isn't any reason to feel happy for Donna. Claudia's grave is beautifully decorated that Donna cannot move on. We are never given the reason for the death of her parents, but by the fact that Lord Benenviento created a doll for his daughter, we can only assume that they were a very close and tight-knit family. It is very unfortunate that a child had to go through this much tragedy with only having her Gardner there as a comfort.

Angie is such a contrast to this. Angie is like a child. Angie represents birth and life. She is bright cheerful and lively. Despite being a nonliving doll, she has more "life" than Donna. Through all this death and tragedy Donna experienced, she can finally breathe the normality of life through Angie.

[Please watch the RE8 puppet show, it is honestly so adorable!]

I wonder why Donna thought it was fitting to put Angie in a wedding dress? Did Donna dream of a wedding of her own? Was Claudia really Benviento's daughter? Why did Donna choose to celebrate life through Angie? I guess we might never know.

As mentioned previously, one commonality between Donna and Angie is their scar. It is just a hint of showing how divided they both are. The way they reflect each other here is adorable lol.

The Crest

The sun and the moon as well as life/death are both extremely important themes to Donna Benevineto (shout out to Dua Lipa's Houdini who I associate Donna with). Both Angie and Donna are divided but complete together. In some ways it feels like Donna just be herself if not a "full character" she needs Angie to complete her. It is not just Donna, but Donna AND Angie. No matter how divided Benviento(s) is/are, they will always need the other part to be whole.

In a way, the Benviento crest cemented this way of thinking by showcasing the crest together. Angie as the Sun, and Donna as the Moon - together make up a whole. I always ponder if the other Benevientos also dealt with this duality, but that might be questions left for interpretation....

Thank you so much for reading this far if you did! I've been meaning to write on this topic since forever! Even though this analysis was decently long, there is still SO MUCH to dig into Donna. So many theories on who she really is and what happened to her. I will continue to write about her in the future.

#donna beneviento #angie beneviento #resident evil eight #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil viii #resident evil #lady beneviento

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princeloww · 9 days

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rivals plot summary (including content warnings)

What to expect from the new DT show, basically. Vague spoiler warning.

Tony Baddingham, DT's character, runs a British television company in the Cotswold area. He is a lord and, as you might guess, extremely rich. He tends to manipulate people and spend their money instead of his, so that when his ventures go wrong, other people are left scrambling to pick up their losses, while he's completely fine.

He has a long-lasting rivalry with the tory minister for sport, Rupert Campbell-Black. Rupert is extremely charming and athletic, and has a new mistress every week. He is divorced and does not see his two children very often. He's an athlete at heart, and adores his horses more than people --- but politics are a lot more stable than that.

The plot follows a very large cast of characters, which can be quite confusing at first. I had to go back and work out who Beattie Johnson was, for example, because I'd completely forgotten who she was and who she was involved with. There are lots of wives and husbands and mistresses and children, so it gets a bit complicated. Most of the characters are somehow linked to Corinium, Lord B (Tony Baddingham)'s TV company.

Tony hooks up with and employs an American director/writer, Cameron Cook. She moves to England to work at Corinium. Her arrival and bad attitude forms tension in the Coriunium workspace, and the tension furthers when Declan O'Hara, an Irish TV presenter and author, arrives at Corinium. He is a leftist (in contrast to the conservatives around him) and often discriminated against for being Irish. At times he is accused of having IRA links, mostly just to make him look bad. He and Tony's personalities clash, leading to a fall out at Corinium. Declan, in a drunken rage, quits his job and falls into a bit of a bad state.

Recovering from the publicity of his departure, Declan groups up with Rupert Campbell-Black and a few others (including Tony's brother, Basil Baddingham) to create a rival television company, Venturer, to challenge Corinium and Tony for the franchise.

There is a lot of romance and a LOT of subplots. Declan's daughter, Taggie O'Hara, is a dyslexic cook who struggles to find work due to her inability to read and write. She develops a crush on Rupert, who is considerably older. If I start talking about how much I despise their relationship, I will never stop. Taggie will probably be quite a main character in the show, I'm guessing. Declan also has a wife, Maud, who is a failed actress and spends all of his money.

Tony's wife, Monica, is very charitable and employs Taggie despite Declan and Tony's rivalry. She is aware that Tony is having an affair with Cameron Cook. An affair which, while Cameron is under his employment, becomes extremely toxic and abusive.

I'm sure the show will be rounded out a bit for modern audiences, but warnings wise (at least in the book), Rivals includes themes of sexual assault (particularly groping), misogyny, domestic abuse and much more. A big majority of the characters are rich and extremely corrupt. Tony, the baddie of the story, has some of the worst moments. There is a scene where he hits and throws a woman until she is bleeding, because she's 'betrayed' him. He also threatens to kill somebody. On a separate occasion, he tells a distraught SA victim not to tell anybody, because the attacker is somebody who he needs on his side, for money. There is also, obviously, given the kind of characters we follow, a lot of classism. Valerie Jones, for example, exists as a punching bag for a middle-class Northern woman who wants to be like the rich Southerners.

Tony might be the bad guy, but Rupert, who we're supposed to like, is also awful. He's Jilly Cooper's little golden boy, despite being horrible. I hate him so much but Jilly clearly loves him. He gropes eighteen-year-old girls and objectifies every single woman he speaks to.

Again, I'm sure a lot of this will be toned down, but watch with caution. The story has light moments and lots of romance, comedy and drama --- it just occasionally dips into dark themes. There will probably be lots of dinner parties, as every other scene is a giant social gathering. As much as I have issue with Jilly Cooper, she is absolutely excellent at writing large social scenes with dozens of different subplots combining.

There's also a weird theme of characters describing 14-year-olds (specifically 14-year-olds) in weird predatory ways. It's weird though, because a strange amount of characters do it -- to the degree where I think it's just Jilly Cooper describing them weirdly. She acts as though being a teenage girl is a woman's prime and that she is wasted after that. She has also gone on the record to state that she hates feminists. I'm not a giant fan, frankly.

On a lighter note, if you want to tell who's supposed to be a good guy, just remember that the good guys always quote poetry and like animals.

Despite its many flaws and dark themes, Rivals really is an interesting read. Jilly Cooper says the weirdest, most fucked up things ("she's like a little sister", thinks Rupert, right after staring at the 18-yo's ass) but the story really supports itself. It's interesting, gossipy, raunchy and very well written. Cooper is an expert at big scenes, and works so well with the giant ensemble cast. I disagree with a lot of things she says, but I think the show will be really good. I'm super excited and can't wait to watch it. There's a particular scene with David's character that I'm looking forward to; while in the book it was a bit scary, because we know how Jilly is with teenagers, there's a scene where Tony drives Declan(his enemy)'s daughter home, and is actually very nice to her before realising who she is. I think DT will do this scene a lot better, and it might actually be a bit endearing. Idk, I don't wanna jinx it, but I think it has potential to be a sweet scene, with the charm DT typically brings to these roles.

If anyone has any plot-related questions, or about David's character or anything, please feel free to ask! I'm more than happy to ramble about this book, because I do really like it. I see and dislike its flaws, but personally I am able to look past them and appreciate the story and characters. They're all horrible people, but let's be honest. They're politicians and rich, tory lords in the 1980s. They were always going to be horrible. You can like something that contains problematic characters without necessarily, immediately condoning and agreeing with those things. People online and especially on places like TikTok seem to struggle with this concept, but I'm a firm believer in media literacy and accepting flaws. You can like something that is bad. You can like villains. It's fine.

Declan is my favourite btw. Live laugh love Declan O'Hara

#yap yap yap #rivals 2024 #rivals #jilly cooper #david tennant #tony baddingham #aidan turner #declan o'hara #declan is my favourite btw #only somewhat decent person #actually lizzie vereker is fine i think #i forgot to mention her but shes there too she has a thing for freddie jones #who is valerie jones' husband #theres lots of casual cheating and affairs #which is realistic for the people and time tbf

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chaosduckies · 2 months

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Friends In Small Places (Chapter 4)

As I’ve mentioned when I had first started writing this, this piece is meant to be gloomy. So, I give you the fearplay chapter. I’m so sorry for the delay, but I hope you enjoy! (I have no idea how to feel about this scene-) Also, I get to put my three years of spanish classes to use :D (Translations are included)

Word Count: 3.5k

CW: Anxiety, panic attacks, slight gore mentioned

4-Liam

A week can pass by quickly.

Cas and I have been slowly getting to know each other a little more. Not a whole lot since some topics were a little too hard for him to talk about. Classes at college were getting even more tiring, and before I could ask to take the classes online it turns out that they had already handled it when I brought up the subject. So, now I was practically staying at Cas’s house almost all of the time. Although it isn’t too bad, I’ve noticed something about his behavior. He likes to stay close by me.

It’s not a bad thing, I’m not complaining at all, it’s just that it’s nerve wracking whenever he asks if I’m okay with him sitting near me. I’m not used to him all that much. I know most people are fine with being around shifters but of course I’ve believed all my life that most shifters were scary, intimidating even. It’ll just take some time to get used to living with one I guess. After all, I was supposed to be a therapist.

Today I was just writing some notes while Cas sat on the floor, a bright smile on his face as he looked at his phone. I was about to ask what that was about, but then I remembered him telling me something about seeing his parents sometimes this week. Was that today? If it was I should probably get ready. The only thing I knew was that I was required to be there the entire time. They didn’t tell me what was going to happen, how long it would be, but I’m sure Cas would tell me on our way there.

I shut my computer closed, placing my notebook on top of it before shoving it into my bag and glancing over at Cas. He seemed excited to meet with his parents. I would be too if I had been separated for however long. Then again I live in an entire different city than my parents. They do like calling every once in a while though. I don’t think they let Cas have his own parents phone number.

“Excited?” I mumbled, walking a little bit closer. I’m pretty sure we’ll have to leave soon. It was already noon and I was mainly waiting on a text or a call that explains that his parents were ready to see him. For some reason he’s not allowed to go in early which I find is kind of irrational, but I can’t just go against them. Heck, I wasn’t even supposed to be part of this organization.

“Mhm. Last time we were only allowed an hour to talk.” He smiled sadly at me, still looking positive about today’s outcome. I do hope he gets to see them today. I think he needs this. But I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as excited to see their parents as Cas was.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, but how old are you?” I asked, looking up curiously. He can’t be more than three years younger than me. He doesn’t go to school, and I doubt he’s any older than myself.

“Eighteen. I know, I act like a child.” He chuckled, messing with his hands. Nervous? I don’t really think I could do anything about that. Actually, for someone who has depression and struggles with emotions, he doesn’t lose control a whole lot. Only ever twice has he in front of me, minus the times where he starts growing a couple feet from either watching someone thing or thinking about something. I try my hardest to shut it down before anything bad could happen. Last time I freaked out and couldn’t do anything useful to help him.

“I don’t think you act like a child.” I laughed, hearing my phone go off. I hurried to pick it up, seeing Cas quite literally beam with a shocked smile. I told them we’d be right there, and then carefully climbed into his hands. Today would be a good day. I don’t know why I get the feeling something bad will happen. It’s just the way they had sounded on the phone…

——————

The building looked relatively normal on the outside, with a fancy look that had screamed “We’re rich,” there were different sized doors, but what caught me off guard was that there was an entire security system right at the front that makes sure you’r not bringing a weapon. Cas set me down near the human-sized doors, telling me to just do what they say and we’ll eventually meet up again. It’s kind of awkward taking instructions from someone younger than me, but he’s been here for much, much longer.

I went through security, answered a few questions, like who I was with, how long I would prefer the visit time be, mostly questions about Cas if I were being honest. Was this why he was only allowed a singular hour to talk last time? Because he had someone else? I don’t really mind spending a few hours here. What could go wrong? I answered as long as Cas and his parents were going to be here. I’d feel bad if I set a time limit. Plus, I’m sure his parents would love to spend some more time with him.

Eventually they lead me to a huge waiting room, where I was guessing I would be able to keep an eye on Cas. I was I trusted to stay in there in case something goes wrong, but I sincerely doubt it. What was there to be upset about in the first place? I think everything would be fine. I was just staying on the sidelines anyways. Maybe meet his parents, talk for a while. Heck, maybe I’ll even get to know a little more about him. Cas doesn’t answer some questions I have. All for good reason I hope, it’s not like I was going to force it out of him anyways. That would just be plain wrong.

Out side of the room, Cas had walked in, standing up near the platform I was guessing they’d be at. Weren’t they supposed to take me up there too? A woman wearing a suit walked into my holding room, taking a seat right next to me, “Kayla Cruz. I was Casper’s old therapist.” She giggled, holding her hand out. Oh? What was she doing here then? Why was she replaced by me of all people? She certainly looked like she was more trained for this job than I was. Something wasn’t right here.

“Oh, um, Liam Rover. It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled, shaking her offered hand and watching as Three people wearing a guard outfit instructed Cas about something to which he nodded to. Wasn’t I supposed to be up there? I think I know which way to go to get up to him. I guess I can wait an extra couple of minutes. I have no idea why, but I had a bad feeling about everything. Maybe I could ask Ryan later? I know the person he was placed with is a shifter who can only reduce their size, was this really any different? I’d have to ask.

The woman next to me watched, a frown on her face as she looked at Cas, a worried look on his face. His eyes darted all around the room, still waiting for when his parents walk through the safety of the doors high above where I was sitting. Was it supposed to take this long? Why was I the one worried? Was it just a feeling?

Th woman next to me glared at me from the corner of her eye, a smirk appearing on her face, “They told you he was meeting with his parents today?” She leaned back in the seat. I nodded my head, confused. “It’s technically true, but the company has deemed Casper here too mentally unstable to meet with anyone but shifters and his corresponding therapist, which would be you.”

My heart sank.

What the hell. This was just wrong! I have to go up there before they do anythi- I stared up at the platform, seeing a singular guard walk in, say something to Cas, have a short conversation that made his eyes grow wide and slide slowly down the metal-looking wall behind him. My eyes darted around the room, searching for a door to go and help him. Of course I was terrified about what they’ve done, mostly the outcome of what’s about to happen, but it’s not like I can just leave him here. I know what they do to shifters who can’t control their emotions. Their either sent off to a special captivity prison, or they… I can’t think about that right now. I am not about to become the reason Cas gets sent to a place like that. I don’t have the heart in me to do so.

I found a door that looked like it lead to the room, and almost as if they knew I was searching for it, it unlocked. I threw it open, rushing out, my heart beating fast and uncontrollable. My legs were about to give out from underneath me, breath shaky, my mind screaming at me to get the hell out of here. But I don’t. I knew what was about to happen. They weren’t letting Cas see his parents. I heard slight screaming and yelling in another room that sounded like a woman’s and crying from a kid. But I didn’t focus on that right now. I was more worried about the situation in front of me.

What do I do? Something tells me this isn’t going to be anything like that other time. Cas has always watched how he reacts to things, what he does, but right now he’s not. He’s most definitely depressed, and there was just something else I couldn’t pin point. People do dumb things while they’re upset. They regret it all later, so it would be best if I make sure Cas doesn’t so anything he’ll regret. Because then that’s an entire different problem to deal with after this one.

“Cas!” I managed to scream at the top of my lungs, knees buckling underneath me, but I force them to keep me standing upright as his gaze falls onto me. I jumped, chest heaving up and down as I struggled to find the words to say. My body was frozen in fear, not even able to move a single limb from it’s place. He winced when his legs uncomfortably hit the wall opposite of him. I didn’t know what to do. It’s almost like… they wanted him to lash out. Why would they want that? Soon enough, guards ran in, yelling orders while one tugged at me to head back inside, but I didn’t move. Instead, I rushed forward, avoiding the somehow careful limbs that were trying to move into a compact position on the floor.

A guard was running after me, but I guess someone held him back since I was somehow gaining ground when I was running extremely slow and tripping every once in a while. I found Cas’s head, seeing him scrunched up as much as he could manage as of right now. He laid on the ground, arms and hands covering his face and knees up against the chest. He still realizes that he can hurt people. Maybe I can actually do this? Still, the size difference between us is huge.

Cas wasn’t crying or anything. Just mumbling words I surprisingly couldn’t make out. He didn’t sound angry. Just upset. That makes it easier to deal with. People do horrible things out of anger. And I could only imagine how devastating it would be if Cas wasn’t thoughtful enough to watch himself.

I found his head, buried underneath his arms and muttering incomprehensible words to himself. He groaned a bit, slightly turning his body to face the wall, moving his arms away from his face to lay them down. I guess he didn’t see that I was so close to him because his arm almost killed me. I quickly jumped out the way just before I would’ve been nothing but a pile of flesh and bones on the ground. My heart skipped a beat, unable to stare at the spot on the ground where I could’ve died. My breathing became a ragged, and the sounds close to me were slightly muffled, but it’s not like anyone was saying anything important to me.

Cas turned his head, eyes meeting my frozen minuscule frame and gasping. He moved his arm away from me, doing his best to slowly sit up without alarming the multiple guards in the room, along with the weapons they probably have imbedded in the room itself. I could tell he was still upset, but right now I was too focused on the fact that I could have died. That reminded me just how much power Cas had over me. Even if I was the one who was watching over him.

“L-Liam I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-“ He tried apologizing, voice hitching just before sucked in a sharp breath. My entire body was shaky, but I forced my legs to push me back up and walk over to the towering being. More people had walked in, Cas pressed his back closer to the wall scared. He knew what was going to happen. I knew what was going to happen. I just had to make sure it wasn’t the worst possible outcome of the the two. I don’t think I could handle the guilt that way.

The week I’ve spent with Cas has been amazing really. Even though sometimes I get a little jumpy from the fast movements, or feel uncomfortable at times when he’s around me, Cas really isn’t bad at all. We’ve hung out for a while, watched movies, played a few games. I think we’re friends? With that thought in mind I’d hate to see them take him to a place he doesn’t even deserve to be in. Of course I was afraid of him still, instincts and all, but I don’t want him to end up being alone.

I stood up, taking shaky breaths as I tried my hardest to stay upright. Come on I’m not even hurt- I was just terrified. Shocked. A little unstable right now even. If I had tried talking to Cas now he wouldn’t hear me. The distance between my and himself was huge. I looked back up at him, taking deep breaths. He stared worriedly at the people making their way in, looking ready to advance if he tries anything.

“I’m not scared. I’m totally fine.” I kept muttering to myself. It usually worked when I felt like this. It’s what my dad would keep telling me. Little did he know that I was terrified of everything going on around me right now.

Cas’s attention turned to me, a hand reaching taking up my vision as I stood frozen in fear. The next the thing I knew I was pinched tightly between two of his fingers, arms pinned to my sides and barely able to move any part of my body. The pressure against my chest increased, threatening to break my ribs. That was the least of my worries. I couldn’t breathe right now.

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you like that!” He freaked out, holding me dangerously close to his face. He’s not being his usual careful self, but that was expected when a person was upset. I gasped for air, trying to free my arms from the prison I was in currently, but Cas just kept looking over the the people on the ground that was far, far below me and muttering words in a language I couldn’t hear.

My heart was racing fast as my lungs had begged me for air. I managed to free one of my arms, and I forced my voice to work for once, “Cas!”

“…Lo siento. Lo siento mucho. Estoy arruinando todo...” (*Translation: I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. I’m ruining everything…*)He kept on muttering over and over again, and it just makes me wish I had paid attention to my spanish classes in high school. Something about him being sorry? I think have much, much bigger problems at hand though.

Cas shifted me in his literal death grip, allowing me to breathe, but he was pressing down harder, and a sharp pain erupted from my leg, but I was fueled by the adrenaline.

“Cas!” I screamed again, trying to pull myself out of his grip. His eyes darted to me, wide and shocked. It took him a moment to realize, but he let go, laying me down in his open palm, running a hand through his hair. I coughed for air, wincing when I checked out the leg that felt like it was on fire. Most likely broken, but nothing I couldn’t handle. It was fine though. I know he didn’t mean to. But still, my fear never wavered at the fact that he could quite literally kill me by not even trying to.

“¿Estás bien? I-I didn’t mean to-“ I nodded my head, biting down hard on the bottom of my lip. It’s okay, you know him good enough to know that he wouldn’t do any of this on purpose. I had to remind myself before gathering up my remaining courage to actually do my job.

“Cas, just take a few breaths, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.” I had only hoped he heard over how shaky my voice was. He slowly nodded his head, I closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them the ground wouldn’t be so far from me. When I peaked out, the ground was a bit closer, people stood on the ground, frozen in either fear or shock. I calmed my heart down enough to actually get a few more words in.

“Feeling a little better?” I asked, putting on the best smile I could manage right now. He slightly nodded again, continuing to take slow breaths.

“What happened?” I asked calmly, genuinely worried about what was said before I rushed in through here. Cas eyes me sadly, wincing, “I won’t… be able to see my parents for a long time.” He whispered, suddenly aware of everything around him again. He moved further into the wall, away from the people below us.

“And that means?…” He bit the bottom of his lip, “Apparently I’m too unstable to even see my own family.” He sighed, and I could tell he wanted to cry, but he knew what would happen if he gave into those feelings.

“I-I have a little brother. He loves trying to climb up anything he can,” He started laughing sadly, “You can imagine how much fun he has when he and my parents come for visits.” He sniffled a little, smiling. Oh. Oh. He’s calming down in his own way.

Why was the world so adamant on having people watch over the “dangerous” shifters? Cas doesn’t need me… and maybe shifters don’t actually need anyone to watch over them.

“Yeah?” I smiled, laughing with him while he seemed to have calmed down.

“… I’m sorry, Liam.” He pressed me up agianst the bridge of his nose, this time a lot more gentle. I winced from the sharp pain in my leg, but sucked it up. I think Cas needs this. Even if I was scared he’d accidentally hurt me again.

Cas let me down, facing the crowd on the ground that had rushed to help me up, limping the entire way until multiple people were talking behind me, rushing into places. I turned back, ignoring the warning from the people helping me. Cas gave a sad smile as the red band on his wrists started blinking, clasping themselves together like magnetic handcuffs. Cas sighed.

I heard people in another room yelling, even a child’s voice. It’s his parents. I gasped, finding a door to another room I haven’t been in, seeing a guard and a person with a suit and tie in there. Through the small window, I saw a tall man trying to comfort his wife, who sat crying on the bench while the child stared, screaming at the guard to let him see his brother. My heart sank.

They weren’t going to kill Cas. I knew they wouldn’t. I just hoped I would be allowed to see him in the hospital they’ll be placing him in. This wasn’t right. Not at all.

——————

Aghhh plot build up my beloved. This chapter leads up to something reallyyy important for later.

Aww all Cas wanted was to see his little brother 🥺

I hope you enjoyed! I have no idea how to feel about this chapter if I’m being honest, but I hope it’s alright TwT work is affecting my writing grahhhh. Thank you for reading though!

The drawing I did for this chapter is right here!

Taglist: @da3dm (If you would like to be added, leave a note or dm me! :D)

#G/t #g/t writing #g/t fearplay #g/t community #Friends in small places #oc: casper #oc: liam #my writing #aghhh idk how to feel about this one either #My writing style is just going down-#I hate it so much #I hope it goes back to normal #currently three in the morning #But I do not care #I said I would post this chapter no matter what #And here I am #I hope you guys enjoyed #Thank you for reading!#love you guys ❤️

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gumnut-logic · 8 months

Text

Five pick ups and one drop off (Pick up 4)

Pick up 1 | Pick up 2 | Pick up 3 | Pick up 4

Scott is tired and a little pissed off, so watch for language. Again, kinda crack just for fun.

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Scott Tracy needed to re-apply his deodorant.

He was beginning to get a bit whiffy. But that’s what happens went you cut halfway across the planet after pulling a dozen people out from under a building in Taiwan.

As it was, he’d had to leave Virgil to liaise with local services to make it in time.

Thunderbird One wasn’t known for her shower facilities, but he had foreseen that in the past and his office in New York was set up with all the amenities including a spare business suit or two.

But that was a good five hours ago. If there was one advantage of crossing the dateline, it was the preservation of sunlight. He had the great pleasure of living the same day over again. With less concrete dust.

But more numbers and more annoying people.

One thing about rescue sites, bar the occasional asshole, was that the people there were usually very, very happy to see Scott and his brothers.

Here in the board room he received the distinct impression that at least several of the members would be much happier with his absence so they could do exactly what they wanted.

Which was what had been happening and why he was here.

“Sir, why the higher expenditure? Their employees are not our responsibility.”

Scott grit his teeth and his blood pressure sung in his ears. “We are saving the company and its employees. I believe with the correct financial support, they can become a solid division of Tracy Industries. We are not in the business of destroying lives.”

“This is not a rescue site, Tracy, this is business!”

Scott straightened from where he had been bent over the conference table, glaring at Martin at the far end, and pulled himself up to his full height before turning to glare at Landers on his left. “Not the way we conduct it.” His tone turned acid. “Do you think caring makes us soft, Landers?”

“Yes, it does. You are destroying our profit margin.”

Scott could not give a fuck about this particular profit margin. They were absorbing a large manufacturing business with its heart in country USA. If they didn’t handle the situation carefully, a good hundred thousand employees looked to lose lifetime jobs. The impact on the people and society would be massive. Not to mention a foolish move as TI’s most important asset was its talent. And there was good talent out there. The business had been struggling, but only to out compete TI, which it could no longer.

Its product was excellent. Brains and Virgil had done an assessment and agreed that the teams had potential. All they needed to do was absorb them into TI and then manage them into a better working culture in order to support that talent.

But it was obvious certain members of the board did not see things the same way as the Tracy brothers. Yes, the profit margin would suffer, may even go into cost in the short term, but it was the long term Scott Tracy was interested in and not lining his pockets at the cost of other people’s lives.

Tracy Industries was big and stable enough to take a hit for the common good.

“Landers…” Scott really wished his head wasn’t hurting so much. “…just go.”

“What? Go where?”

“Out.” Scott waved an irritated hand at the door. “Get out!”

“You can’t-“

“GO!”

The whole room jumped.

Landers glared everything at Scott, swore under his breath, and made a scene of gathering his tablet and collection of paraphernalia off the table and stomping towards the exit.

The moment he left, murmured protests rumbled around the room.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Carly, his EA, talking into her headset. A moment later Jeremy, his personal security guard, stepped into the room and took up a position quite casually just inside the door.

Great.

Not the best politic move, Tracy. But Landers was a dick and he had had it coming for a long time.

Scott had just needed to be irritated enough to follow through.

He leant over the table again. “Do we have any further objections?”

Martin at the far end was noting furiously on his tablet. Yeah, more trouble would come from that direction.

Scott sighed. He really wasn’t at his best. He needed sleep. The Virgil at the back of his head was jumping up and down on his neurons demanding he stop growling at staff and come home.

There was a knock at the door and that same brother, still dressed in his IR uniform, stuck his head through. “Hey, excuse me, I need to borrow the President for a moment.”

The room was still rumbling and didn’t really respond. Scott strode over to his brother. “What is it?”

“Come out here for a sec.”

“I can’t leave right now.”

“Yes, you can.” A heavy lifting arm reached in and yanked him out into the hall.

“Virgil, what the hell?”

But his brother was busy staring at him, dark eyes assessing him as if he was capable of medically scanning him with the melanin in his eyeballs. “You’re coming with me.” And before Scott could react - a definite sign of exhaustion if there was one - Virgil lifted him in one quick move and threw him over his shoulder.

“Virgil, what the fuck?!” He struggled, but Virgil was known for his iron grip and even in Scott’s worst moments, he couldn’t hurt his brother.

“We are going home.”

“It’s an important meeting!” The view of the floor and his brother’s butt was infuriating.

“I know. Which is why we let you go initially. However, that was hours ago, and before you disassemble the board one by one, we are intervening.”

“We?”

“Hi, Scott.”

He cranked his head up just in time to see John walk past in a crisp turquoise-grey suit. “What? John? Virgil, put me down!”

“Nope.” They entered an elevator…going up, no doubt to the roof.

“Virgil, please. John will eviscerate them.”

“Yep.” They stepped out into sunlight.

“Aww, c’mon. They’re scared of him.”

“Yep.” A big green shadow loomed over them and Virgil stepped onto her elevator, giving Scott a fantastic view of checkerplate and nothing else. “It will do them good.”

“Virg-“

“Nope. Bed.”

“Please?”

His brother kicked the wall of the cockpit and folded down one of the stretchers. He rolled Scott gently off his shoulder, carefully catching his head and neck and let him sink into the soft medical support.

Every muscle cheered in gratitude.

“Virg…” God, he was tired.

His brother responded by brushing a hair out of his eyes, his gloved hand pushing Scott’s mess of hair back from his forehead. Kind eyes looked down at him. “You need rest, big brother.”

Sure fingers darted over his body, doing up safety straps and securing him in place, and for some reason Scott did not have the energy to protest.

He fell asleep halfway across the Pacific lulled to rest by the comforting roar of his brother’s ‘bird.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #nuttyfic #scott is pissed off #Virgil is determined #and John is scary

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snottertooder · 2 months

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“Better” ending for The umbrella academy season 4 (A fix-it)

I genuinely think the idea of the ending is a fitting one for tua since the last 3 seasons, they have been doing EVERYTHING but giving up. But they absolutely dropped the ball on the execution and what built up to it (I didn’t shed a single tear last episode because they felt more like strangers in force proximity than sibilings, ESP DIEGO AND FIVE DYING HATING EACH OTHER??)

I think a better ultimatum would’ve been if instead of giving up their existence they gave up on their RELATIONSHIP as sibilings. The goal the hargreeves had the entire series is to A. save the world b. Save their family. That has been challenged MANY times and as a final Ultimatum, they have to pick between

- forever time jumping to other timelines (via subway idk) and repeating the cycle of saving the world to keep their family together

-save the world by getting rid of their powers (like og) and relationship with one another, where they would exist in a new timeline without umbrella academy, without powers and without the hargreeves name connecting them to one another (for this to be really impactful, season 3 needs to be FILLED with fluff and family happy moments like we all hoped to see)

So when they all give up their power (with Ben bc he deserves to be there at their final moment) we get the whole season 1-3 scenes and then when we see the new timeline instead of a bunch of minor characters living normal lives (which lowkey no one cares for) we see the hargreeves living normal happy lives without one another. I think it would be a neat call back/parellel if they showed their lives like how they did in season 1 ep1. Starting from Luther and ending with Viktor (including Five and Ben this time)

My hc for how they would be in this new timeline:

(FYI, I haven’t seen the other seasons in a hot second and the new season didn’t help me get an idea for their motivations so if any of these are ooc sorry 😜)

1) Luther

• I think in the new timeline he would have a fulfilled life with Sloane and a few kids(which he DESERVES, instead of being a stripper). I think they’re soulmates (even tho personally I didn’t care of their relationship) I think it’s fitting that they get their happily ever after. As a Career, I think he would be a of CEO/Manager, his entire life he’s been told what to do by his father and struggles as a leader to the family. Him being in charge of something for once esp his life would be fitting. (I think it would parallel well with season one him being alone and a mess to season 4 him being happy, loved and put together)

2) Diego

• as a career I think a Lawyer. In his new life with his new family he would still have a call for justice except this time he plays by the books since he didn’t have a father turning him into a vigilante by the age of 10. I don’t think in the new timeline he would be with Lila since then the sacrifice would be meaningless. I can see him get with his Dead girlfriend from season 1?? In a diff way as Lawyer x Detective. Also he’s a Universal dilf, he adopts stan from an abuse/negligence case (his real mom is pretty terrible) and they live happily ever after :)

3) Allison

• an Artist. Her entire life is a lie and she’s never been able to express herself, I think she would be a Artist who expresses herself through her art and becomes successful through her own means, this way for being herself (maybe an anonymous one so she isn’t famous as a person but her art like Banksy, I think it would be neat if some of her art was about the civil rights movement) Maybe she’s even with Ray and/or an alternative version of Claire.

4) Klaus

• Since everyone wanted Klave season 4 (rip), he could be with Dave in the new timeline. He would be 100% sober, and honestly I see him being a TV personality, either a TV show host or has his own talk show (LOLL it would be funny if he had smth like dr Phill happening where he’s fixing messed up families, orrr a paranormal series where he visits haunted houses, or even a game show host like love island, maybe he even met Dave on there idk scandal

5) Five

• Retired 100% finally, I honestly think he could be anything but smth in action like a police officer or CIA since he REALLY needs the rest. I imagine he’s living life like the creator of androids in Detroit becomes human with the Chloe robots except the robots are Daloris and his family visit him often so he’s never alone (also because his grandchildren wants his inheritance but he just gives it to a dog or smth for the giggles bc they are all morons) i think he either becomes rich for inventing/discovering something or because he’s a Nepo baby, Either way he deserves it.

6) Ben (the og one)

• An author who travels the world 100%%%%%% I think he would be a professor or Author (or both) but he travels more than he works, he’s a lazy bum for sure!!(for work) I think it’s fitting that he sees the world since he never got to from Dying young + being trapped with Klaus (ig they did explore the United States but he never really got far plus it was the 60s)he never settles down until his legs give out. In this timeline I think Og ben and asshole ben would be twins/sibilings (og would be the older one) their names would be Benedict and Bennett bc their parents couldn’t decide who Benjamin would be.

6.5) Ben (the asshole one)

• This one is hard since he’s barely been developed. But he’s gives me MAJORRRR Ken sato vibes from the new Ultraman movie on Netflix. He would DEFINITELY be a professional athlete teenage girls make edits of on tiktok (that I consume) Idk if he would stick with the water as a sport having tentacles and all but if not he would be a Race car driver, play a ball sport (basketball and baseball esp) or boxing. Since him and Jennifer are “fated” she would play a similar role to Ami Wakita (in the ultraman movie) as a Journalist, lowkey power couple (if they were properly developed) Also Jennifer as a journalist would be fun, maybe she crossed paths with Diego once or stalked Allison to find her true identity. Her first issue was DEFF about her creepy as home town. She wrote many books about the cult.

7) Viktor

• a Swimmer like his parents orrr a teacher/professor. I could see him write books too (since he already wrote one) lowkey try a lot of diff hobbies and Job jump alot into diff professions. Just do everything. Sissy (I forgot how to spell her name) could be in the new time line like the rest of them too with Danial? (I forgot the kids name) as alternative versions. I imagine they meet as Teachers (sissy gives me MAJOR councilor vibes)

Lila

• if they were to do like a montage of their lives like in season one, I don’t think she would get one since she isn’t numbered but I think it would be hinted in the background. I honestly imagine her becoming a Singer/Actor. She’s either in a Metal band, go on Broadway, be an Oscar winning actress, end up in hall hallmark movies or all the above ( like singer-> Broadway -> A tier actor -> D tier hallmark movies) (she loves it tho, keeps her on the toes)

The last scene is What viktors been up to but then the Radio plays idk “I think we’re alone now” which leads to Viktor starts dancing, and then it shows everyone else also start dancing from where ever they are in different locations. Because even if they aren’t siblings anymore they are still connected ☹️ and that’s the final dance scene we never got 🙏

I imagine it would be even more twisted if they all lived in diff time periods like how they all missed each other in season 2. Like Allison is already dead from old age by the time Ben is born. Lila is already a Punk rock legend by the time Diego loses his first tooth. Five in his young days had an enemies to lovers with JFK while Viktor is reading about them being best friends in Textbooks yk.

Anyways that’s it. Season 4 sucks put me in the writers room atp, I would have the end credit scene be Reggie burning in hell with his wife 4K 🔥🔥🔥

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #ben hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #netflix #season 4 #fix it fic #viktor hargreeves #lila hargreeves #lila pitts

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charleslee-valentine · 3 months

Text

Headcheese

For the Texas Chainsaw Massacre Disability Pride Month Event: Day Two- Weird Lookin’

Word Count: ~9,700

Warnings: Ableism, especially internalized, and use of ableist slurs. Implied domestic abuse. Delusions- Nubbins Sawyer canonically has schizophrenia and this fic explores that. This includes mild religious delusions, fantasies about violence, slight medical delusions, and applying thoughts and motivations to others. Brief descriptions of harmful stimming. Canonical self harm. Misogyny. Inaccurate diagnoses and language. Period typical everything. Several instances of animal cruelty. Blood and violence.

Disclaimer: The dialogue is not original. All dialogue is pulled from the screenplay script which was still called ‘Leatherface’ or ‘Headcheese.’ This fic serves as an internal reflection/stream of consciousness during a canonical scene; interpretations, headcanons, etc are mine.

__________

His hair is sweaty, dropping little beads down his back in addition to an already soaked shirt. Nubbins scrunches his neck back to squish out the wetness, the inside of this van no better than out in the heat or at home. At least the windows is open at home, unless Bubba got scared of bein’ alone again and shut ‘em all up.

The van he’s in makes all kinds of noises, sputtering and coughing fuel behind it like roadkill entrails. The stink of gasoline always made Nubbins’ head dizzy, when it’d waft off the generators. Makes him wiggle a little every time the van struggles to get to speed on the long stretch ‘ road.

Better than walkin’ still. Nubbins been cooped up inside, couldn’t stand one more second at home waitin’ for Cook to do all the fun work bringin’ home food. Can’t get in trouble anyhow if he feeds the family by takin’ this trip. But he got tired of all the wanderin’ a good while ago without any excitement. Closest he got was the harsh ping of a crushed up Coke can smacking against the back of his head when it was thrown from a Cadillac. ‘Bout knocked him stupid.

The heat always makes him itch. Big brother would always tell folks, when he was just a tiny thing growin’ up, that the marks didn’t mean much, ‘cept it ain’t true. Where it’s red it burns like fire under his skin when he’s out in the sun so much. His arms too, where he’s got sores poppin’ up like prairie dogs been tunneling in his flesh. All the running made him tired of it even more now. Breathless from his run.

Franklin, the wheelchair man from the van group, don’t give him much a chance to recover.

“You getting off on the smell of all that blood, man?”

Nubbins feels a pull on the left of his face that’s got nothing to do with unpleasant feelings. He’d like to think he manages a smile, intrigued by the attitude on that man. There’s sweat in his eyes he got to blink away, turning the attempt at pleasantries into more like a grimace.

“I-It's a good smell.” He comments vaguely.

A girl from the front seat shares a look with meaning with Franklin, though Nubbins is left out of understanding it. His interest turns sour as the slaughterhouse floors when she says, even not directly to him, “Oh.. I don't like it.”

“I think we just picked up Dracula.” Franklin murmurs back.

Nubbins knows that isn’t nice. Don’t know what it means, but the way it’s said isn’t nice. He digs the ends up his fingers into the tender flesh around his scabs, tearing one open. Gotta make it to hurt when snide remarks just become backround noise. Heard ‘em so often the sting’s gone dull.

The other man here in the back talks and it takes Nubbins a moment to soak in his words, “Where you headed, man?”

“South.” Nubbins answers quickly. Ain’t safe to give more detail, just gotta get home.

Though Nubbins does crack a knowing smile when he realizes he’s thinkin’ ‘bout safety warnings, when he’s the one who is danger. Makes him seem pleasant.

Franklin makes a funny expression back with his eyebrows, squishing them all up, “You could have fooled me. I thought we were headed due north.”

Nubbins turns his stare on Franklin, but the words to respond doesn’t come right away. Mostly cause he ain’t sure which is being truthful, him or the wheelchair man. Been a long time out on them roads. Might’ve lost track of his direction.

Wouldn’t he get the whoopin’ of a lifetime if he went and got himself lost up.

But the other guy seems to think Franklin tells lies more, jutting towards him with his thumb, “He had a little accident- still doesn't know where he is..”

Until then, Nubbins hadn’t taken note of all the bruises and bloody lines on the man, sitting up straighter as his eyes trace over every last scrape and bump. Looks like big brother got a hold of Franklin too. If that was possible, maybe then Nubbins would’ve got somethin’ smart to say, but as is, he just stares and wonders.

While he’s lookin’ Franklin starts talkin’, askin’ up, “You work at that place?”

“N-No.” Nubbins answers simply, choking on a stutter while the rest of his brain catches up.

Don’t got a chance before the blonde girl gives him a new question, interrupting him so he’s got to think of a new answer all over and force himself to speak it, “How did you get stuck way out here?”

“I w-was at the slaughter h-house.” Nubbins’ voice feels like cotton in his throat. His little brother was right that he shouldn’t have broken the rules and gone out, the outside world already much too overwhelmin’ to his senses. Might help if all the folks in this van wasn’t starin’ at him so hard. Could tell them the truth, ‘at he was tradin’ with the old slaughterhouse, givin’ some of big brother’s vouchers to the men there who used to boss them around in trade for supplies and things.

Meat hooks, cattle irons, recipes, the like. Couldn’t get ‘em no place else to handle their own special kind of beeves. They’s lucky the old man of the slaughterhouse was Grandpa’s bestest friend in the world. ‘Ccepts them free gas and barbecue tickets like that’s any good enough, then pat Nubbins on his bony back and send ‘im back home on his way.

Stings his pride some, the pretendin’ to be civil after they sended him off with a pink card in his blood-stained hands. Him and little Bubba both. They was gonna let Grandpa and big brother stay, but they walked. And now Nubbins does all his walkin’, all over the roads, ‘cause the Sawyers gotta play niceys or they’ll get sniffed out.

His vagueness, the van folk don’t seem to like it much. Funny thing is those sour faces kill off any more words that might’ve been comin’.

The wheelchair man, Franklin, he ain’t in work either, understands the vengeful sorta shame Nubbins’ got boilin’ under his scratchy flesh.

“I have an uncle that works at a slaughterhouse.”

He’s good at that, at makin’ Nubbins feel like he already knows the inside of his head, so he makes sure to manage an answer, tell him a little on his family too, “M-My brother worked there, my g-grandfather… My family's a-always been in meat.”

It comes out punctuated by the tiniest laugh, satisfied with himself for being smart, knowing more than folks who thinks it’s the other way ‘round. Nubbins leans back some and wiggles his shoulders, working his pride into his physical self too, to burn off the happies before that becomes too much too and suffocated him whole.

Nubbins misses a second interaction between the Hardesty siblings in hushed tones, as much as they seem different from Nubbins hisself, they ain’t quite on the same page with one another either.

“Don't start talking about that place again..”

“A whole family of draculas..”

But Franklin can’t help himself. He liked the way the hitchhiker expressed things, the strange sort of lilt in his voice like he ain’t talked much to other people to know how inflection works. His batty eyes and flailing limbs, he might as well be some part cattle himself, escaped from the slaughterhouse and seekin’ refuge here. Hate to have to tell him the others wouldn’t be so keen on that. Might be best if that particular idea got lined up in the shoot.

“Hey man, did you go into the slaughter room or whatever they call it.. The place where they shoot the cattle with the air gun.” Franklin motions vaguely himself, wrists forming the air gauge and the bolt.

It wounds him some. Always said that automation was the thing put the Sawyers outta the business, but it ain’t true. Nubbins was a real good listener, better at that than talkin’ most times, hearing from around hushed whispers and corners in the house that it was him got them all the boot. His fit.

Had ‘em all his life, but actin’ that way was strictly against the rules at work. Drayton wouldn’t ‘llow it for a second. Always done his best, Bubba too, goin’ on pretend smoke breaks to just spin around in the fresh air and play together if the workin’ grew too much pressure.

‘Til a beeve kicked him in the chest. Made Nubbins get the jitters real bad, worked up over the pain and adrenaline and everyone ‘round him coming to stare. They was scared too, for the state of his ribs, ‘n all that was too much to handle. He’d just bounced a little at first, waving his arms around, sniveling some. Would’ve worked it all out on his own if it weren’t for a big noise. Metal hitting metal and then yelling for clearance and the beeves making their chuffing noises. Goin’ down the chute.

Nubbins only crouched down and covered his ears, but then he was yelled at for stopping work, and there’s blood in his hair cause his hands was still soaked from slittin’ a throat, so he lashed out. Cryin’ his eyes out, he swung for the boss’ face, slashed the big bowie knife they give him, and now there’s more screamin’ and he’s curled up in a ball, knees to his chest, again.

Big brother explained it away by sayin’ it was part of his condition in his brain, the same one Bubba’s got, so that was it. ‘Stead of things changin’ ‘round the slaughterhouse, Nubbins and Bubba had to go away. And the whole fam’ly followed.

“Yeh, it's nice, b-but the..the gun is-” He starts, face fallen serious and dull upon reflecting those memories.

At the same time, Franklin had started speaking. “I was there once with my uncle.”

“-is no good. The old way, w-with the sledge is better, they die b-better.” Nubbins finishes, looking up at Franklin when he realizes, slowly, that he talked over him. He flinches, just so, hopin’ to not gettin’ in trouble for that.

In a way he does, when the puffy haired girl on the floor gives her disgruntled opinion, “You like talking about morbid things.”

Big brother taught him to behave ‘round strangers, so as much as he’d like to, Nubbins don’t stick his tongue out at the girl or spit in her hair. He imagines it though, among worse things. Throwing her face down into the moving tires of this here van for example.

“How come? I thought the gun was better.” Franklin asks, bringing Nubbins back to the front of his head.

Which he shakes, messy hair slicked back with grease it don’t hardly move.

“No.. I li-like the old way better. A lot of p-people don’t got work now w-wit’ the new way.”

“You used to do that?” The dry haired man asks, but Nubbins doesn’t like the way he says it, somethin’ about the judgement from his lady pal seeping into his demeanor too.

Looking between them, Franklin notices and takes over, asking too, “You do that, man?”

“Yeh.. I-I was the killer. I don't d-do it no more.” Nubbins explains carefully.

“How come, man?” Franklin asks, but Nubbins doesn’t really wanna talk about that, so he doesn’t. Makin’ him would just lead to another fit.

When he come in the van, he’d really thought Franklin was gonna be the mean one, with his confusing comments right in Nubbins’ face, but now he thinks he’d be upset about sharin’ the unpleasant details. Doesn’t want a nice man to think of him that way.

Not while knowin’ he’s being talked about behind his back. The puffy haired lady leans to the other man, telling whispers that Nubbins can’t hear but they’s both looking right at him, thinkin’ he must be too dumb to know it.

“I can't believe he did that..”

“Now I'm an artist.. With the- the gun and knocking board they don't n-need me no more.” Nubbins turns away from the whisperers and tells it just to Franklin.

“You're an artist? Pam's an artist too. She’s really good.” The pretty blonde girl hums her words. Her voice is too sharp, all of it’s startin’ to make him fuzzy.

Nubbins slips his head to the side to look between her and that other pinched face lady. Makes him angry. Blondie’s under the mental tire too now, teeth knocked out of her tiny skull and scattered all over the road. Unknowingly to hisself, Nubbins’ eyes’ve gone unfocused, distant and empty while he’s in the torture chamber up in his skull.

“Hey..” Franklin says a bit too softly, understandin’ more than maybe anybody why bein’ compared to Pam could sting. If they all want so badly to group him in with the roadkill scented stranger, then he’ll take a little pride in that over bein’ another one of the non-political hippies. The type who think the world gets to be sunshine and rainbows so long as the whiny cripples like him stay hidden along with the other undesirables. Peace and love and only the good stuff.

The gentle voice sort of breaks Nubbins’ mind in two. Nobody talked to him that way in a long while, since throwin’ fits and scraped knees and tangled hair was still cute as a kid. It’s easiest to repeat himself, “Yeh.. I-I don't like it now. With the gun it’s no..”

They isn’t listening. Maybe Franklin is, since he’s still lookin’ that way, but the front seat blonde isn’t. She flicks her hair away from her shoulders and grills him, “Are you a painter or what? I know this crazy artist. He never knows what he's doing.”

“I work with uh.. l-leather. I'm a sculptor t-too.” The words just kinda tumble past his teeth without much awareness. Lucky he didn’t spit out the truth about workin’ in bones.

Sometimes his lonely just outweighs his angry. Makes him go actin’ foolish.

Franklin brings him back to him, with his fun voice, like a stinger’s buzz in his ears ‘stead of industrial grindin’, “Hey, man. I was in there. They had blood about up to...”

Delighted by somethin’, only ‘cause she’s obvious she’s already among the dead in Nubbins’ mind, the blonde laughs at more slaughterhouse talkin’, “Oh. I need one of those hammers for Jerry. He’s so hardheaded.”

They doesn’t wanna talk about Mr Jerry at the wheel, so they don’t. Jus’ like before. Nubbins starts to sees it that Franklin’s the way he is when he Franklin keeps on instead, “-your ankles covering this giant room. There were these big cow heads they had cut off sticking up out of the blood.”

Brings back Nubbins’ smile, “I-It's that way now.. Y-You liked it?”

“Sure. Lots of blood and guts. They dump all the entrails and heads and…” Franklin shrugs while he talks, bouncing about. The life he talks with keeps him firmly in the non-meat category in Nubbins’ mind. His energy’s as familiar as the subject.

Nobody ever liked those same things before. Franklin’s just special like that. For his troubles, the troubles of kindness towards someone awful through and through the way Nubbins is, he gets the reward of seein’ his pictures.

The critter pouch on his necklace fell inside his shirt while he was runnin’, gotta reach in to free it so he can show off his pictures. Older now and startin’ to wither some, he don’t let just anybody get they’s paws on these. But he hands them right over, proudly even, to Franklin.

Franklin who keeps on talking while Nubbins’ shakin’ the photos in his face. “..and stuff they don't use in one place and sell it to the glue factory or someplace like that.”

“Here.” He gives the permission, and Franklin finally goes and takes the pictures, the three yellowed ones that’s up for grabs.

One’s of the slaughter room, ankles deep in the blood just like he said. It’s from Nubbins lookin’ straight down, at the way it’s all pooled around him. Would be nice if they had a room like that at the house, but they isn’t allowed, gots to scrub the kitchen walls when they gets too splattery from the butcherin’. The picture though shows the heads of cattle cutted clean off their big ol’ bodies ‘n scattered about the room, just floatin’ along. That part Nubbins didn’t like so much, when they’d get left about like that. ‘Course that was the only pieces they was willin’ to send the Sawyers’ way for dirt cheap.

That first one’s his favorite, the other two more recently shot, noticeable right away ‘cause it shows the industrial equipments all around. The bolt and the gun and all that, the slicing up of the beeves. Ain’t his work so it ain’t his pride the same way. Just close documentation of what they says is more important. A gun over a retard.

But he’s smart! Knows more’n this lot, “They don't send the heads away.”

“Damn!” Franklin holds the photos away and down, like when big brother can’t see without his glasses, before bringing them right back up real close.

“Let me see.” The same irritating woman demands, but Franklin is inspecting them down to the gory details. Let fin’ himself be learned.

“Th-They make-” Nubbins tries to keep his attention held right there, casting the moment in gooey amber so it never goes nowhere.

“You took these, huh?” Franklin interrupts.

His enthusiasm and the pointy smile he gives is real enough Nubbins forgives him.

“Yes. Y-You like ‘em?”

“Franklin....” Blonde lady whines to see the photos, big bug eyes pleading with nobody who’s lookin’.

If Nubbins were more a little more observant, he’d note the jealousy from the girl, the way she sees him as some kind of strange adventure and not just a stranger. There’s danger in the way he smells and the crimson color hidden deep behind pale brown irises and the way his limbs clamber and pull. To her, a monster she can tempt into chasing her for the sheer thrill of it, in the safety of a group of people who know nothing of the way her morbid mind works.

Except maybe Franklin, and his fascination for those damned photographs he won’t let go.

The hitchhiker, as she knows him, inches forward, heels putting so much pressure on the ground his boots creak and flake off old material, so he can prop slightly up to gesture at the photographs.

Like he never left off, he continues his story, about the processes of the big house, violence radiating easily off of him, “They make head cheese.. E-Except for the tongue they b-boil the head, and scrape the b-bone clean of flesh. All the parts is used, n-nothin’ is wasted. The- The jowls, ‘n the eyes, even the m-muscles-“

“Ugh.” There's a groan from miss pretty, as she must realize, this kind of horror is all too real for her. He really had killed ‘em, over and over he had, and that’s too much for a little sheltered lady. Not for his friend though, nice Franklin.

Nubbins gets so worked up thinkin’ it, he’s talkin’ with his hands and rocking slightly, “and ligaments and the fleshy parts from the n-nose and gums- They put everythin’ into a jelly of f-fats!”

“Look at this.” Franklin urges, waving the blood picture in the face of the girl on the floor while Nubbins is still talking, keepin’ his eyes on the man now even with the photograph is moved away.

“..the f-fleshy parts from the nose and…”

This lady ain’t amused even in the slightest, slapping them away so much a new crease forms in the corner of Nubbins’ picture.

“Ugh.. You’re making me sick. Why do you like killing so much?”

Nubbins knows why.

Killin’ is a business, but they says if you get a job you like you don’t work a day in your life. Bringin’ blades across weak throats and feelin’ familiar warmth all up and down his body, smellin’ familiar smells and findin’ home in that. Home bein’ the little squirrely he found torn to bits by a coyote in the fields. Home bein’ the slaughterhouse once upon a time. Home bein’ with his brothers. Changes, but the reason don’t.

You do it to survive. And life is a gift. Mama and Gramma and Pa prob’ly too by now, they’s all gone. Big brother tells about how every one of them was sick as babies cause Mama didn’t stop her habits for a little bump on her tummy, comin’ out all kinds of messed up. They was never meant to live, skin kissed by the devil’s false affection on his right cheek to show it.

If he can’t be normal, can’t be loved, can’t be a ‘functioning member of society,’ -whatever that means- then he oughta either just be dead, or shake up the devil’s wishes. Nubbins chooses the second. Can’t be killed cause he fights to live and exchanges plenty of souls for his own. Gotta eat the meat and he gets another point from the heavens above to not end up in his early grave.

Likes doin’ it cause it’s a blessing so it makes him feel nice. Franklin, he must be smart enough to see that, gifted in his own way. The denim man said Franklin had an accident, and Nubbins sees those wheelies clear as day. That’s two mess ups. Figures whatever he’s been through, he can see death the same. Makes him truly special, not just on account of his niceness.

“-gums.. Th-They put e-everything into a jelly of fats!”

Nubbins shifts a hopeful gaze into Franklin’s, locking eyes while he scans for a sign that the other is being truthful when he says,

“Wow.. I didn't know that's what's in that stuff.”

“I-It's real good.. You like it?” His heart beats like some kind of a winged creature got swallowed up and lives in his chest. Important to him Franklin doesn’t reject the work, the gift.

First come the blondie girl, handing back the photos she’d taken straight from the hand that extended them into her friend’s face before. Along with it, more attitude, “Ugh..I don't see how anybody could eat that junk.”

Nubbins falters, shoulders slowly sinking down, bloat-air let out of him and stinkin’ up the already acrid van with disappointment.

Immediately Franklin sees that and gives his input a little bit louder, “Oh. I like it. It's good..”

Nodding, Nubbins lets him see more smiles instead of hiding it, a little wispy laugh following along. The creature in his chest turns into a whole colony of ‘em when Franklin hands his snapshots back with a returned nod. Even dumb old Nubbins knows that means he’s talkin’ to him, and not those others. He knows Nubbins knows he’s meant for slaughtering meat too.

Then he realizes the others must see it too. Prob’ly why they keep him from his legs workin’. Nubbins seen it before, what happens when the hacksaw breaks apart the rope down your spine. He’d bet anything they done that to Franklin, and he prolly don’t even know it. Grief joins the overwhelming joy in his body. It’s not just that they’re ignorant, airheaded little things just floatin’ on through their part of Texas and paying the angel’s price.

Their mean words and their dumb hearts, it’s all on purpose, weapons to keep them apart.

And they’s sharpenin’ their blades.

Pinchface girl covers her mouth with the back of her hand, but her eyes tell it all, the coldness there like lookin’ into two empty sockets.

“It sounds horrible.. Talk about something else.”

Sweet, unaware Franklin tries to light a match can burn away the tension, “Aw, you would prob’ly like it if you didn't know what was in it.”

Nubbins just knows if his brothers saw how really really smart Franklin could be, they’d let him keep him.

It’s a shame they’s outnumbered so bad, woulda been easier work if only one of the beeves was so mean and not all of ‘em. The same girl raises her hackles and her voice at the same time, actin’ like hunted prey just on account of bein’ around different folk. Weak.

“No I wouldn't and I wish you would quit.”

“Aw..” It hurts Franklin. Gotta toughen him up some, teach him the way to wrap himself in a shell of calcified rot and pure leather. Even if it had to be literal the way it did for little Leatherface, they could make Franklin masks too.

“Come on, Franklin, you're making everybody sick..” The floor man says scornfully.

Poor Franklin bows his precious curly head some, muttering, “Ok.. Ok…”

But his nature, that Nubbins knows is under there, comes out to play. Franklin, in his disappointment, sits glumly for a while. While the others stay quiet, Franklin brings out a little blade and starts toyin’ with it. Flicking it around like a butterfly blade, only it isn’t one. Nubbins can’t help but stare.

Franklin stops for a moment to dig under his nails with the knife, bringing Nubbins to imagine him popping each one off. Pop. Clatter. Screams. No need to waste that on Franklin when he ain’t the one that oughta be hurting. They’ll rip ‘em off of anyone else that gets in they’s way.

Noticing his affection and lettin’ it egg him on, or really just in his own fit, Franklin starts to work himself into a frenzy. Nubbins starts rockin’ a little harder in his mutual excitement over what they’s gonna be able do together. The thoughts in his head get so splatter sticky and cruel he starts to grind his teeth out loud. Puffy haired lady notices and openly points, no shame in her cruelty. Her beau just kind of shrugs, but he’s got disgust in his features just as clearly.

Nubbins can’t help using his rocking to urge himself forward, straining upwards against their judgemental glares towards Franklin. What he wants is to reach for that beautiful knife and show him just how to use it, but the plan is t’ get ‘em all home, feast on them together with Franklin ‘stead of scaring him off now. More giggles tear at his throat and bubble up without his permission.

The clueless driver interrupts and just ruins everything, “We're going to have to stop for gas fairly soon.”

“Th-There’s a place not far.” Nubbins remembers to answer. A big van-ful right into big brother’s lap, oh he’ll be so proud! Maybe he’d even spare Nubbins the beating for leavin’ the house with little brother all on his own again.

“Good enough.” Hums mister driver, no idea he’s fallin’ right into the trap.

See, Nubbins can be smart!

Only thing, he’s got to make sure Franklin ain’t wheeled right into the cattle pens too. He stares at Franklin intently, hoping naively if he looks long enough, he won’t ever have to go away.

Conversation or not, the stare is what brings Franklin out of the tiny fit he sunk into when he was toying with that blade of his. Now Nubbins gets a real good idea. Family is made from blood. Sharin’ his blood with another man would make him family too, share the mark right along with the name, a virgin’s sacrifice of sorts.

Nubbins finally snatches up the old blade.

The floor couple stares and gasps and shifts around warily, but they don’t mean nothin’ to no one. This is Franklin’s knife. And Franklin, though a little startled from the way his mouth falls a little bit open, watches with intense curiosity. Won’t tear those eyes away for nothin’. Nubbins closes the blade in his hand, gettin’ a good look at the whole thing, bubbly laughter piercing his own ears in a detached kinda way as he presses the silver spring button and the blade springs open again.

Slowly and on purpose-like, he puts the blade against the fleshy part of his hand, below the thumb and over his thick palm. Nubbins looks up to make absolutely sure Franklin is watchin’ what he’s doin’ for him. Blood is a real valuable resource afterall.

The blade sinks nice into his flesh. Kinda dull, the fibers pulling apart one at a time instead of all at once. His blood comes out real slow and dark, his new wound aching in a way that makes touching the cool blade feel nice ‘n soothing. Franklin is awed, eyes wide and alive instead of turned away.

Nubbins thinks sometimes that he ain’t a creature of the flesh, but the dealer. The trader. He’s the killer. Doesn’t wanna hear the various calls of distress, when even the front seat couple take notice. Keeps his smile good and fixed on his face so they don’t know it pinches at his chest some to be screamed at and not act out back.

“What are you doing!?”

“Put that knife away.”

“What did you do to yourself?”

Flexing his palm, Nubbins finds Franklin’s gaze again, to reassure him in one way that a reaction ain’t necessary. Remembers this was all for him, the exchanging of the blood, so he extends the knife back up to him, tilting the blade upwards some so he don’t have to grab it. Not yet.

And Franklin takes it.

The blood, the wound, it’s starting to dry up and panic nips at the edges of relief. Like if he lets it go away then Franklin will change his mind. He puts his hand into his mouth and bites down hard on the cut, making it gush again.

Blonde lady grimaces at him somethin’ fierce, “Ugh. How can you do that!?”

It’s real easy. He could show her. Franklin’s still lookin’ real hard at his knife, so Nubbins brings out his own. That trusty straight razor from inside his boot. Wants to carve a more pleasant expression onto Blondie’s face an’ show her exactly how simple it is.

“This is making me sick. Can't we let him off somewhere?” The puffy haired one asks quietly. Silly her not knowing this blood means that ain’t never gonna happen.

Not caring that it’s gonna scare her, he waves the razor some, “I-I have this k-knife.”

“You can put that one away too.” The beau that matches scared girl chides.

“It’s a good knife.” Nubbins promises, but returns it quietly to his boot when he sees they ain’t willing to reach out and lose a few fingers. Oh well, since it ain’t supper time yet, he can be patient.

His mind drifts off from himself in the wait, his stare fixing straight forward and landing on the girl up there. He can feel eyes on him, and cold blood on his skin, but he can’t quite snap out of it. Best to let it ride over. Fighting it just makes him go into a bigger upset.

Franklin, in turn, is staring right at Nubbins, that same morbid fascination written all over his expression. Can’t understand why he’s not afraid like the others. All his life he’s known little kids to point and ask why he’s using a chair for old folks, had peers gawk at him when he gets one of his spells and panics. Somethin’ about his trouble bein’ both physical and mental that turned him jaded in a lot of way.

Gullible, sure, in that he believed his sister when she said he’d have fun today, but never fully trusting. Like he’s always waiting for betrayal. Maybe that’s just it, that he ain’t all that surprised his hitchhiker friend turned out to be a little off his rocker. Better than secretly resenting Franklin, or spitting in his supper ‘fore handing it to him, or playin’ tricks on him.

It’s only after a little while of that reflection, that he notices the hitchhiker don’t got eyes on him, or care he was accidentally staring. He’s likewise staring at Sally, who herself notices both of them looking and turns. Her face is suddenly marred by discomfort, a smile that doesn’t even look quite like a good pretend one.

That shouldn’t make Franklin more uneasy than a stranger’s blood all over the knife in his pocket. But fake Sally means: “Of course you can come, Franklin, you’re my brother.” which means “Oh is he finished whining yet?” and “Again? Really?” and “It's been a bad day for you, hasn't it? Poor Franklin.” All which leads to him tumbling ass over end off a hill, and of course he’s gonna take more issue with that.

Instead of getting his knife out again to fidget with, figuring that’s just a recipe for disaster all over the place, he taps his hands on the arm rests of his wheelchair. The movement, and the dull plasticky sound of it, seems to reverberate into Nubbins’ head and pull him out of his little daze.

His eyes blink and drag ‘round slowly around, between Jerry and Sally now. Just from the clues he’s gotten so far he’s starting to make connections about the group, trying to piece together what the mess they’s gonna deal with later on will be like.

“This girl is your wife.” He questions eventually, making vague little motions with his hands.

The girl on the floor taps mister driver to get his attention, “Jerry..”

“Oh. Uh..no. My friend...my girlfriend.” Jerry sputters out stupidly. Nubbins would like to poke him with needles and rip out his hairs and see if he sounds goofy like that when he screams and begs.

His eyes light up but drift away again, knowing he has to wait for that fun. A pink freckled face greets him. Miss blondie don’t like bein’ talked about. Startin’ to understand why she’s always whining to get her hands on things, cause she’s spoilt for attention. The favorite like baby brother, without the special reason of her messed up face or lack of speakin’.

Keeps her clueless and plump, like big brother would say, but this one is curious and too skinny. Might be better just to do away with her, not take away one scrap off, ‘cept maybe her face. Wouldn’t that be a nice surprise for the youngest, showin’ off this new face he can takes and turn into a mask. He’d just love that.

“Th-That's good.. She's a good girl.”

“Thank you?” She says like she doesn’t get it, shiverin’ like there’s worms goin’ down in her shirt and she’s squirming away from ‘em.

Maybe the hair is too long for little brother’s taste. No use in peelin’ the skull jus’ to throw it all out. Could sell her down at the station instead, replace some of that awful meats they won’t eat and the customers don’t enjoy much neither with sweet and tender flesh. Could get rich off it and go back to slaughtering any real piggies that comes their way with a nice side of luxury.

Just the thought makes him ball his fists and shake them, too full of all these ideas it’s starting to seep out and take up all the space in the van.

The piggyest of the bunch, he don’t wanna eat. Franklin needs to be alive to listen, and share knives with, and talk to Nubbins real nice like he does. They can fatten him up on that headcheese he likes all they wants, but ain’t nobody gonna do the killing of his Franklin ‘less he says.

The Cook can sell blondie, but then Bubba needs somethin’ to sweeten the deal too.

He shifts to the other little lady all balled up on the van floor, takes note she’s got brown eyes like his bubba’s, and a tinker-bell bracelet he’d just love on her wrist. Comes free with clippies in her hair and pretty pale skin, and he knows she’s the one he oughta keep in one piece.

“You're a nice girl too..”

“Thanks.. You're a nice guy..” This girl responds robotically to him, without lookin’ in his face. Nubbins might be retarded but he ain’t stupid. ‘Course that means she don’t like him. Scared of catchin’ what he’s got.

What he wants is to stick his tongue out at her, slash his knife across her stupid face and chest ‘til she’s got blood in her eyes and she’s thrashin’ like a dyin’ cattle. His bubba would be so upset if he brought him a lady like that and wasted the face, and then he’d kill Franklin right back, and they’d got nothin’ but skinny girl meat goin’ to waste and everyone would be upset. Let little lady be mad, but he ain’t gonna let this plan go to waste.

Not even if he’s got to bite on the insides of his cheeks to make it happen, the focus.

Franklin leans back into his line of vision, looking so concerned and eager he might get sick everywhere.

“We're all nice..”

“Yeh.. Y-You're all nice.” Nubbins repeats with a smile, scooting on his haunches to get closer to Franklin again, so close his outstretched limbs is able to brush against his. All the while he’s pretty sure now Franklin can tell what he’s thinkin’, what with the way he’s so good at keepin’ Nubbins on track and calm. Throws him a bone so he knows he’s not the one chosen to become meat. “B-B-But you got them w-wheels.”

“What difference does that make?” Franklin barks, absolutely horrified. He looks down at his own paralyzed legs and back up at Nubbins over and over, mouth open and silly lookin’. Only a real expert like Nubbins might’ve heard the high crackle in his voice when emotion almost slipped past, but even he missed it.

Got distracted by the resurgence of the blade Franklin pulls from his pocket again to toy with until his upset passes. His mouth goes all dumb and quiet again instead of promisin’ he won’t kill Franklin. That’s gotta be why he’s got messed up legs too, so’s he can’t run and he can’t go and mess things up. They’s the perfect pair. Half can’t make his mouth form words, the other can’t move. They’ll fill it in and be one whole person together.

All his life Nubbins just knowed he couldn’t be cut out for love like Gramma and Grandpa got. They was lucky they both was hunters already, neither one turned out by the other covered in gore and shooting a person straight in the back of the skull. Could take up the killing business together.

Hasn’t been one like that since. Mama never had no men and her boys never had no daddy in the picture. They was on their own so long, on their stuffy old farm with stuffy old brothers and nothin’ to do all the day away but work, and workin’ is killin’. But not if he got wheels.

Franklin ain’t edible, can’t be with all that metal, and that means maybe he ain’t a killer too, ‘specially not yet no how. So he’s a third thing, just like Grandpa was when he stumbled onto Gramma’s piece of land with every intention to kill her and ended up tied down in her storage barn and married within months instead.

If he gets his Frankie on that path, he’s takin’ what God gived it to him. He just really, really hopes he’s given the permissions to keep Franklin. God ain’t nothin’ compared to an angry brother and his good leather belt.

Franklin is currently taking down one more button on his shirt to reveal more untouchable, ‘probably too tough to eat flesh, and fannin’ himself off, “It's hot in here..”

That’s silly to Nubbins cause it’s hot everywhere in Texas. “Where do you come f-from?” He asks with a small snort of laughter.

“We been to Colorado, New Mexico. Kind of a vacation, looking for land too.” Franklin tells him, waving his hand here and there. Doesn’t seem to like it much.

“Doing a little skiing.” Floor man adds on, explaining the big sword looking things leaning against the back wall in this little van. All the junk ain’t good junk, the nasty, clunky, plastic store bought garbage is all they gots. It’s startin’ to close in on Nubbins and suffocate him with a life he doesn’t live.

Feels harder to make sense.

“I mean w-where do you l-live?”

“Oh.. Houston. We’re all from Houston.” Franklin gives him a smile and it ain't like the girl’s, it’s gentle and bright and silly.

While he talks, Nubbins starts rocking forwards and back, and shaking about his wrists some more, flapping like the excited bird he is and feels on the inside. Franklin is just so so smart tellin’ him what he needs to know and that’s all. So he keeps asking questions. “Your p-parents live there too?”

“What? Oh, yeah..” Franklin gives a dismissive shrug, prob’ly don’t want to talk about it.

Maybe they’re like Nubbins’ parents and disappeared away, and he’s all alone. Or maybe they’re like big brother and get mean easy, beatin’ on the poor guy even though his legs doesn’t work. That’s prob’ly worse than anythin’ he been through. At the end of the night, Franklin ain’t running away to go burn off his frustration by kickin’ some roadkill around.

Just a shame that Nubbins don’t realize the only reason he’s still in the van allowed near Franklin is on account of he’s viewed the same way. The difference is a lot to someone who’s willing to consider it, but to the others, they’re both just crazy and annoying and easy to laugh at. Clowns for just existing.

Nubbins nods his head towards blondie, “A-And this girl.”

“What about Sally?” Franklin asks, miffed that they’re changing the subject again. He’d like to just grab this hitchhiker and scream in his face that the others don’t care about him. They never will, don’t waste your time on it.

Maybe he’d do the same for him and keep him from goin’ on another one of these stupid road-trips where he just sits around and watches. Kirk had been bragging with the skiing, showing off the poles so he could feel tougher than the guy with no qualms on using a knife. But no mention of leaving Franklin on his own while they done it. The “Sorry, Franklin. We planned this a long time ago, we never thought you’d come along at the last minute.” Like that’s even what happened.

Apparently paralyzed is s’posed to mean deaf too, ‘cause he heard very well what Kirk said when they was walking away to climb that stupid hill. “Someone oughta take one of these and shove it somewhere that it’ll put him out of our misery.”

Franklin was so mad he vomited in the snow they were skiing on. Thought about wheeling off somewhere and forcing them to come and find him and then they’d feel real sorry. ‘Til he realized they probably wouldn’t even notice he was gone. Sally, if she wasn’t distracted would, but they’d do just about anything to keep Sally from sticking up for her brother, and eventually it worked and she didn’t even try no more.

She now laughs at the hitchhiker asking them questions, “What? What about me?”

“Where are y-your parents?” Nubbins asks, sounding very polite, in contrast to his wolfish smile.

“Where are my parents?” She repeats, looking like she wants to laugh in his face some more, cruelty leaving its ashen tint on her questioning tone.

“Yeh.” Nubbins confirms, maybe naively. Maybe knowing she’s not interested in talkin’ niceties with a man she thinks is just some pawn in her adventure game.

This time she does bark a harsh laugh at him. Franklin knows his own face gets a little hot and red from the embarrassment of remembering folks laughing at him that way, treating him like an attraction. Part of him hopes the hitchhiker just won’t notice, maybe he’s been so sheltered up all his life he doesn’t realize the bully Sally and her friends can be when they wanna. Unlikely.

“What kind of question is that? Where are my parents. How should I know? My mother's probably about half drunk on martinis and my father’s probably playing golf. Where are yours?” Her hair swishes around and her head bobbles while she speaks, defensive in a way that just screams ‘who is letting this freak talk to me?’

“I-I mean where do they l-live?” The hitchhiker has to clarify again. He’s licking his lips and rolling up his shoulders in a way that it’s obvious he’s bothered, frustrated maybe. Holding down some kind of reaction.

“What does he want to know all that stuff for? We don't even know him.” Franklin hears Pam whisper to the side.

And Kirk’s louder, uninhibited response. “How should I know?”

Couple of gossips, really a whole group of them. The flush of embarrassment turns to anger for the poor hitchhiker. Franklin prays to the Lord above that if his mind ever leads him to wander and hurt himself that way, cutting into his own flesh andcsmiling about it, that a kinder group would happen to stumble upon him than this. Sorta puts into perspective how shitty they can be, makes him feel stupid for coming along at all.

Sally doubles back and answers his question anyhow, despite clearly hearing her friends discussing whether it’s a good idea or not. “Oh, where do they live? In Houston. They live in Houston.. Why?”

“Do- Do they know you’ coming t-to Houston?” Nubbins is busy assessing the situation on his own to notice what they think of him. Five is a lot to handle, never done a group that big all at once before without his brothers right on hand beside him. Important to know if somebody gonna come looking in their freezers in a day or two ‘fore they can hunt and slaughter and break down all that meat.

“Who told you we were going to Houston?” The driver guy asks skeptically. Whether it’s the failing engine or his suspicious driving, the van lurches around some.

When Nubbins motioned to who exactly did told him, that skip in the forward trojectory knocked him forward. He ends up with his hand resting fully on Franklin's pinstriped knee, and he don’t make an action to move it, “This man..”

“Let's tell him we can't take him any further when we stop for gas..” Miss puffy hair rambles quickly, not remembering to control her volume from her fear over Franklin being touched.

So Nubbins hears her loud and clear and counters, “M-My home is- is close to this road. Y-You could take me there.”

After getting a harsh nudge, the floor man speaks up, “Well, man.. I don't know. We're In pretty much of a hurry.. How far is it from the highway?”

“Oh, it’s r-real close.” And it’s true this time! They’s only another ten or so minutes out from the station at this speed if they keep it up, and that’s only another five from the house.

Back in the day, before he knew the routes by heart, Nubbins would walk the paths and count the seconds, the minutes, the footsteps it took until it was all in his bones. Drivin’ it by car is even quicker, though he usually ain’t so lucky to get carried there. Most ‘ the time they don’t pick up hitchhikers no more. Or it’s just him.

Does they all think he’s a Dracula?

“Couldn't you just walk? I mean.. if it’s so close.” Blondie talks like she regrets opening her mouth the second she done it. As she should with them awful manners.

“Y-You.. You could have supper with us!” Nubbins offers, increasingly desperate the more it seems like they ain’t gonna take him up on it, ruining just everything. It’s all gonna domino down and crush him flat like a box truck come at him full speed. His only friend in this, he singles out Franklin, “You like h-head cheese, m-my brother m-makes it good.. he always got some.”

Franklin doesn’t get the chance to speak before he’s being talked over by Blondie and her fake gagging, “Not that stuff you were talking about a while ago.. Ugh..”

“I think we better-push on, man. Sorry.” The shaggy looking guy mutters but it’s directed at Nubbins. They knows well they been mean, ashamed to look him in the face, and Nubbins don’t like it not one bit.

He shrugs it off, but his posture is so sunk in and he’s so silent, ain’t no way you couldn’t tell he’s upset. A bump in the road makes his camera clang against his ribs, givin’ him a real good idea. Nubbins raises it up and teases, laughing as he pretends to zero in on a target though he already got the perfect one in mind, aiming right at Franklin who is still just kinda absent. There’s a flash of light as the old, burnt-up flashbulb pops. Franklin looks up at it startled, but smiles, maybe automatically, a little vague, when he sees the camera.

“You took my picture.” Franklin sounds all outta breath just like Nubbins was when he runned to the van. The picture gonna help to connect them.

Under the sun, under the flash bulb, s’about the same thing. ‘Cause Nubbins don’t normally takes pictures of the living. Likes ‘em better as butchered pieces-parts for a bigger collage. Now Franklin he gotta stay this good way, startled and flushed and smilin’ just a little.

“Yeah.”

Nubbins pulls the photograph from the camera and peels apart the sheet. His film, it’d gone rotten a long time ago, the print comin’ out old and dark and discolored lookin’. Still he extends it to Franklin, only Franklin got the right to see it after all. Wants him to be proud of it. Needs it maybe.

“It didn't turn out so good.” Franklin remarks, squinting to see his own face.

“No. I-It’s nice, see -” Nubbins snatches at the photo but let’s Franklin keep looking, pointing to every detail that is his favorite to prove it’s alright. Namely the bruises and bloody scrapes, “It t-tells about your a-accident.”

A few comments float around the van:

“You look worse for wear.”

“I think you look nice.”

But blonde girl starts complaining again and makin’ it all ‘bout her, when Nubbins don’t care none about that.

“Let me see.”

Franklin extends it back towards her and gives a little warning that quicks up Nubbins’ heart, ‘cause his mind got changed about it turning out bad, “It’s kind of dark, but you can see my face.”

With girl gone, Nubbins leans forward.

What he wants, is Franklin’s word that he gonna behave and ain’t get himself killed durin’ dinner when they come. He’ll settle for a different way of tellin’ it.

“Y-You can p-pay me now.”

Franklin blinks away a mental fog but still can’t make no sense of this, “Huh?”

“Two dollars.. I-It's a good picture.”

Nubbins is nodding and giggling, can’t help himself ’cause he thinks this is it, that Franklin’s gonna understand fine what he’s got to do. His joy is met with blank faced confusion, but that’s better than discontent.

Or anger, like that he gets from the denim man.

“You want him to pay you for that picture?”

Blondie joins in the convincing, trying to ruin everything, selfish selfish girl trying to make Franklin mad at him, “It's not really a very good picture of you.”

“Not for two dollars anyway.” The floor man agrees.

“Two dollars?” Blondie asks, like she’s clueless.

Nubbins knows they’re tryin’ to corner him and narrows his eyes, holds out an expectant hand, trying to call her bluff, “Yehh. Y-You can buy it for him.”

“Hey, man, that’s enough.” The other guy barks, ordering Franklin around instead of letting him have a say, “Give him back the damn picture.”

Immediately Franklin returns the photo, and Nubbins can tell his hands have started shaking. Poor, weak Frankie let them boss him ‘round like that. Now he’s startin’ to fidget nervously again. Comparing that to his smile in the photo, which Nubbins stares at for a long moment, makes him a little sad ‘at his joy had to go.

Ain’t much room for it in this stuffy, closed-windowed world.

They keep talking about him, up in the front seat.

“That guy wanted Franklin to pay him 2 dollars for that picture.”

“You're kidding.”

“No. He was serious.”

Nobody ever asked a peep about what Franklin thought, or what he wanted. Now he’s got this little frown on and Nubbins knows it’s cause he’s scared to show the big feelings that get caught in there.

Havin’ a little brother meaned Nubbins seen all this play out before. Livin’ it was one thing, ‘n hearin’ big brother complain about the old times added to it sure, but nothin’ compared to watchin’ a miserable creature. Pinned down by its little deformed wings and screamin’ and cryin’ over invisible pain. They heads is sick, even Franklin, and the others ain’t kind to that.

Nubbins got a real good way to burn it off.

Some kind of a trash can or somethin’ is flipped over on its top like a pedestal, where he places the photo. His pouch gots a small bundle of ‘luminum foil, and a tube of gun power. He lays it out so the picture’s layin’ on its back in the foil, a little cone of the powder on top with a dip in the middle. Makin’ sure they’re watchin’, Nubbins gives a smile and a small giggly laugh, then strikes a match off his boot.

They know what he’s gonna do ‘fore he does it, but they still start screamin’ anyhow when it bangs and makes a big flash of light, burning up in fire. Smoke wafts off it while he crumbles it up inside the foil, crushing the air out of the fire so it goes out, and shovin’ it back into the pouch.

The driver man brakes hard and veers the van to the side of the road, sending all the riders forward violently except Franklin, who cracked his head off the seat behind him.

All of them start hollering over each other while Nubbins giggles at himself delightedly. Big brother woulda said he oughta be more careful, and maybe he’d ‘a been right in the case of gettin’ Franklin on his side. It’s just he can’t help havin’ fun!

“What? What?”

“What happened?”

“Hey! Damn.”

“HEY, man!”

“Roll down the window!”

Nubbins doesn’t flinch when a ski pole is shoved right in his face like a weapon. His knife is still sharper than some plastic lookin’ stick, and no fella afraid of a little fire gonna do the deed of shovin’ that thing past flesh and muscle into his vulnerable guts. Ain’t man enough.

“I've had enough, man. Time for you to go.” The guy with the ski pole warns, before turnin’ to call over his shoulder, “Jerry, stop this thing..”

It ain’t nice, but he’s losin’ control which means he’s losin’ Franklin too and that ain’t good. Can’t happen. They’s s’posed to be in this together, and more, part ‘a the same family. Betrotheds. Not the ones wanderin’ with no connection, not the mean folks. So long as he can find him again, they’ll fix it to be just right as rain. Even let Franklin carve into the one tryin’ to quiet him up if it come to that.

One half of the blood exchange been done already, with his on Franklin’s knife. Before he stands to haul ass out of the slowing down van, he snatches up his razor and flips it open, grabbing Franklin by his wrist and dragging the blade across. His blood bubbles when it comes out from all the pulling back and forth they’re doin’, and he squeals and sobs as the knife tears into him jaggedly.

Nubbins licks a crack in his lip instead of the blood from Franklin’s wound, though he’d like to see what he tastes like. Figures somethin’ like wood smoke and bitter forest berries. Somethin’ real special like a homemade pie, hold the mincemeat.

They’ll have time for that later; the ski pole guy goes for him, but tumbles back when the van lurches again and slows down to a real stop this time. Nubbins drags the door open and hops out while it’s still coasting, keeping his eyes locked with Franklin through the windows. He’s bleeding from his arm all over the place, his sister kneeling to bandage him and his friends shouting behind the closed door. But he won’t tear his eyes away from Nubbins. Can’t.

They’s covered already, relationship locked in by their tethers between their worlds, but to make sure the van don’t get lost, Nubbins rips open his palm again with his teeth and marks the side of it with his blood, pickin’ a good familiar shape so even big brother might notice it when they stops for gas up the road. Flashes one last grin Franklin’s way.

Kicking the tires, scrawling the family crest right onto the green paint, it’s perfect. Nubbins would be excited if he wasn’t realizing his own hurt by the way they throwed him out.

Speeding away means he can’t see his captive Franklin anymore, ‘n for a minute he tries to keep up. Running after and blowin’ raspberries to not lose his mind with this upset.

Until he’s sure they can’t see him no more. Then Nubbins just falls where he stands, curling his knees into his chest and hiding his face in them. His sad is anger. Teeth grit together and fists balled up, and he’s hitting the back of his head, over and over, ‘til sweat runs past his hair and he has to stop ‘n check to make sure it ain’t blood.

It’s salty tears in some places too. Feels stupid for cryin’ ‘em. Nubbins had somethin’ real special goin’ with Franklin, but them others was just mean. A thousand bodies ain’t make up for the hurt in his heart every ought time another person goes by and they’s mean to him.

But they’s all gonna get their due. Marked ‘em good, so they ain’t ever gon’ make it to Houston. Only one survivor, on Nubbins’ terms, ‘cause he’s certain now he ain’t nothin’ typical. He’s the killer.

#tcmfanevent #tcmdisabilityweek #tcm 1974 #nubbins sawyer #franklin hardesty #franknub #my writing #my fic #tcm fanfic #basically a whole almost 10k fic of nubbins rambling what more could y’all ask for

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