bakerstreet | the cursed gift meme

the cursed gift meme

THE CURSED GIFT MEME

Everyone loves to give gifts, right? Whether it's for a birthday, Christmas, a wedding shower, or a housewarming gift, it's time to get caught up in the spirit of love, joy, and generosity. Not all gifts are very nice, though. Someone might make you brownies while you're on a diet, or you'll get a gift card to someplace you've never even heard of. And then there are these gifts, the gifts so horrible no one should ever give them...

But for some reason? You just received one. Good luck with that, and try to survive the occasion!

Rules:
1. Post your character and list any preferences you have
2. Use a random number generator to pick a scenario (1 - 5) and a gift (1 - 20) to decide what you're getting! Or...
3. ...Wait for someone to reply and just plot it out. Go nuts!
4. Play nice and have fun. Respect people's preferences and all that.
5. Consider rule 5 a trigger warning? Some of this stuff might be uncomfortable, so please be clear about what you do/don't want!

Possible Scenarios:
1. Someone is upset with you, and they either sent you the gift or delivered it personally. You know who the gift is from, though!
2. The cursed gift is anonymous. It's just a package left on your doorstep, or maybe it was already on your table? Creepy...but friendly! What could possibly go wrong?
3. The gift wasn't mean for you. Maybe you were supposed to deliver it yourself or it just ended up in the wrong hands...either way, you're using it.
4. You bought it for yourself/yourselves! There are some strange things on Ebay, right? And there's nothing wrong with spoiling yourself once in a while.
5. You found it! Finders keepers, losers...are probably better off. Who can resist free?
6. Make your own!

Cursed Gift:
1. Perfume/Cologne: Some people just want to be irresistible, don't they? Whoever uses this gift will find that they're suddenly just that. Only...it might not work well at all. You might only attract animals, or you might attract the opposite of your desired gender. Or maybe even worse, it will work on everyone...too much of a good thing, right?

2. Lingerie: Oh, these look nice. Silky and black, or maybe they're lacey and red? Either way, someone probably wants you to wear them...and it might not be your special someone. Wearing the gift (or maybe just touching it for too long) will make you fall head over heels for the person who gave them to you...even if you hated them before, even if they're disgusting. At least you'll be happy about it?

3. Dollhouse: You're never too old to play with dolls! It's even more fun collecting them, and you're just about to get another one: You! You could end up any kind of doll; porcelain, plastic, rag...you're about to have plenty of time on your hands. Maybe someone will play with you?

4. Board game: This one seems normal...at first. What's this card, though? Go to jail? Well, here come the police, and they just found that body you hid. Oh, this space says "In the jungle, you must wait, until the dice read 5 or 8." Better hope everyone keeps playing, because in this game, reality warps to match what the cards and spaces tell you they do!

5. Rings: Diamonds a girl's best friend, and they look pretty fly on your guy, too. Once you slip your new ring on, you won't be taking it off ever again. Why would you want to? As an added bonus, you're now linked to whoever wears the other ring! You can feel what they're feeling, hear what they're thinking, see what they're seeing...don't get too close, though. You might end up as one...permanently.

6. Cutlery: Everyone can use a good knife every now and then. For cooking, right? Right. Except when you pick up one of these knives, you start feeling extremely angry...extremely violent...they just have to pay for what they've done to you, right? Or maybe you'll take it out on the next person you see...

7. Leather collar: Well, getting gifts for your pet is certainly...normal. Who's to judge? Only, when you pick up this collar, you have the strangest feeling that it's for you instead. Wearing it will make you completely submissive. Maybe you'll gain a tail or two, or maybe you'll wake up the next morning as an alligator. In every scenario, though, you're no longer a person. You're a pet. Enjoy it.

8. Flash Drive: For the computer geek or student in your family! Just use it once, and all of your memories will be nicely stored on it. Good luck getting them off! Funny how some things only work once, huh? Maybe someone can get them off for you, or maybe they're all gone for good. Hopefully, you can trust the next person you see...

9. Camera: Perfect for a party! Everyone needs to upload these to Facebook, pronto. Only...this camera...was there a sixth person in this picture before? Whoever uses this camera will start seeing things they shouldn't. Are they ghosts or illusions? They seem to want you to join them...better be careful, because you're more accident prone than before, too.

10. Toy soldiers: Everyone loves the nutcracker! ...Or maybe not. How about those little green army men? Or those action figures? Play with one of these, and you'll finally have a perfectly sculpted body...of plastic! Complete with a duty to serve whoever owns you, these toys are perfect for those who don't want to play with the dollhouse.

11. Cigars: For the more refined gentlemen and madames on your Christmas list! Except...how odd, these seem to be handed out more often to the younger audience. No matter. Whoever smokes one of these cigars will find themselves aging. Maybe they'll gain a few years of weight, or lose twenty years of their life. It will show, though. Hopefully, being young was fun for you!

12. Pacifier: Haha, what a mature gift. Instead of growing older like the cigar, you're suddenly growing younger just for touching the thing. You won't become an infant (not unless you want to, at least) but you could become a young adult, a kid, a teenager...you might not want to try driving anytime soon.

13. Down Pillow: It's so soft! It's firm, too, somehow...just perfect for anyone. Why would you (yawn) ever want to sleep with anything else? For that matter...why would you ever want to wake up? (Yawn) Sleeping is just...too perfect...wake me never...

14. Red Wine: Everyone needs a drink, especially during the holiday season. It's a bit strange-tasting, though...and isn't that a bit too off-color? This gift is perfect for the blood-lovers, because there's a bit of blood in that glass you just drank. Enjoy the new fangs and the bloodlust, and try to hold onto your sanity. Some might say this is the best gift of all...!

15. Voodoo Doll: Now, this is a cute doll! Don't worry, you're not going to be played with. Just try to keep this doll in a safe place. I wouldn't throw it away if I were you. Ouch! Your cat's fangs are certainly painful, aren't they? Only, the cat is biting the doll, not you. ...Wait! No, Fluffy, no! Don't throw the doll into the fire! Can you be trusted with your own fate?

16. Monkey's paw: Your wishes will all come true, your wishes will all come true~! This thing may be gross, but that million dollars you wished for? Congratulations, you just had someone give you a million dollars...as a result of a money laundering scheme. Enjoy prison. You want to be fit and have people look at you? You might just "wake up" as a mannequin. All of your wishes will go horribly wrong, even the innocent ones.

17. Genie's lamp: It's all about the wishes, isn't it? Only...this lamp is empty. Oh well, guess whoever rubs this lamp will have to take care of that. People who receive this gift will become genies/djinn and serve their masters as best they can...and then the next master...and the master after that...won't anyone free you?

18. Wind Chimes: These are lovely. They make the sweetest sound when the wind jingles them just right...it's a good thing, because it's always stormy out. It's much safer inside, you'll start to realize. Hanging up these wind chimes will make you never want to leave your house again. You can tell what the weather's like just from opening your window and looking...right at those chimes...

19. Scarf: Hasn't it been extra snowy lately? This gift is extremely thoughtful! Wearing something like this will make the cold feel like nothing to you. And...it will make everything else feel like nothing, too. Your sense of taste and smell will slowly vanish, as will your ability to feel temperature or things you pick up with your own hands. Soon, you won't be angry or sad, either...but that's alright. Just let me know--is the coffee hot? Or is it cold?

20. Marionette: An old puppet doesn't make for the greatest gift, but it will certainly keep things lively...because it's alive! It moves when you aren't looking, and sometimes? It moves when you are. It won't be long before it's chasing you, trying to kill you, or turning you into a puppet like himself...puppets are never lonely when they come in a pair.

21. Make your own! There are plenty of awful gifts out there, right?

Original meme credit hateshumans

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

The loft was quiet tonight. Peter was at his own damn place for the first time in two weeks, and Cora was off doing God knew what. Derek didn't care to think about it. She could take care of herself.

But like always, he didn't know what to do in a silent house. It left him alone with too many thoughts and not enough distraction, nothing to pull him out of himself. (Nothing to remind him of home, which should be how he liked it, but it just made his chest ache.) He wanted the murmur of conversation, the banter and the bickering, the warmth that came from three people sharing a couch.

So he turned on the TV, left the volume low, and went to the kitchen. He should've made Peter go grocery shopping before he went home, because it was Peter's fault the cupboards were bare, but there was a pizza in the freezer, so he couldn't complain much. While the oven preheated with the pizza already inside, Derek perched on the stairs and half-watched Wheel of Fortune.

The glass tumbled from Lydia's hands, spilling all over the floor. At first she felt like she might be choking, but quickly she realized breathing wasn't a problem. At least it didn't seem to be, even if her chest felt tight.

The wine stained the white carpet, and when her mom came home from her business trip she would be upset. Lydia could smell it though, a strong, bitter smell, with only a hint of the sweet, fruity scent wine should have. She felt her stomach lurch in need, craving the spilled beverage. Hunger like she'd never felt before.

Quickly she walked away, shaking her head. That was ridiculous, craving spilled wine. Some days she really thought she was going crazy, between sleep walking, dreaming of the dead, and her general life recently.

She found herself in the kitchen, and opened the fridge, that hunger still there. There was a shelf of fruit yogurt, a favorite of hers and her mom's. She started to reach for on and stopped halfway her nose, catching onto something more appetizing, more appealing. She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out the package of ground beef that had been left for burgers.

Without even thinking about she ripped it open, and shoveled a handful into her mouth. It was disgusting. Possibly one of the grossest things she'd ever put in her mouth before, and she kept eating. When she finally couldn't stand the taste, she licked the blood off her fingers, savoring the taste while grimacing.

Once she was finished she looked horrified. "Oh god, what's happening to me now?" She whispered to no one.

Eating raw meat wasn't normal, not for anyone she was pretty sure. She hadn't heard about this being a side affect of lycanthropy. Scott didn't go around eating raw meat all the time. And there was no reason for a Banshee, of all things, to do so.

She grabbed her keys, and didn't even know where she was headed until she was three blocks away and realized she hadn't driven in the direction of Allison's house. She was headed to Derek's. Maybe because he might know better than Allison, or because he wouldn't feed her bullshit or try to tell her everything was going to be okay. Which wasn't what she wanted to hear right now. She would later.

She took the stairs up to the loft, turning her head at every sound, every creak. There were a lot more than usual she felt. Reaching the big door, she knocked, letting her nervousness get the better of her, and knocking rapidly.

"'Thus with a kiss I die,'" Derek murmured. Clearly none of tonight's contestants had passed English their sophomore year.

Beyond the sound of the spinning wheel and the quiet creaks of the heating oven, he caught footsteps on the stairs. A girl, and one he suspected he knew, though he couldn't immediately place the footfalls, which meant they weren't Cora's. Not Allison's, either; her steps were bold, measured, and these were quick, almost unsure. The heels clicked in the stairwell.

Lydia? He cut a glance toward the door with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. What would Lydia be doing here? And alone, no less?

By the time she knocked, he was at the door, and she'd scarcely finished when he slid it open. It was Lydia, heart picking up by the second, eyes anxious. She smelled like she'd walked out of a Bath and Body Works, into a slaughterhouse and then straight here. Perfume and raw meat and something he couldn't quite name, but didn't like.

"What's wrong?" With you was the unspoken half of the sentence. There was something wrong with her.

When the door was yanked open, she had just decided to try and compose herself. Freak outs were not her style, or they shouldn't be, as increasingly as she was having them these days. She had just gotten her breathing under control, when she looked up at him.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder she walked in past him, and stopped turning to face him. In the background she heard someone buy a vowel.

"Me." She answered after a moment. "What else would it possibly be?" She rolled her eyes upward.

He looked over his shoulder as she brushed past, biting back the urge to say, 'Sure, you can come in.' When she turned to look at him, he did the same, sliding the door closed behind him and leaning against it. It was at once a declaration of intent (because if she was going to let herself in, he'd be the one letting her out) and a resignation (since she clearly intended to make herself at home).

"Hungry?" he asked after a moment. The pizza was just about done; he could smell it. Lydia wasn't about to put him off his dinner, and whatever was wrong with her was still going to be wrong when he got himself a few slices. He pushed off from the door and headed into the kitchen.

She sniffed the air. "Pizza?" It sounded...entirely unappetizing. She was hungry, but not for that. Not for anything like that at all.

"I'll pass."

She stayed where she was watching him walk away. Watching the way his muscles moved as he walked, the veins in his neck. Why had she never noticed before? Why was she noticing now? She licked her lips.

Pulling the pizza out of the oven, Derek dug through the drawers for a pizza cutter. "So what's wrong with you now?" he asked. No sense in pleasantries, or pretending she wasn't a freak. She knew it, and so did he.

He could feel her eyes on him, but didn't look up. Let her watch. She was probably just checking him out. If she was here for a booty call, she was going to be disappointed (probably), but she was free to look.

"Well," she started, pulling her eyes away from his neck and shoulders. Normally she'd be checking out his broad shoulders, but that was somehow the furthest thing from her mind.

"I think I want to eat you, for starters."

Good job Lydia. Can't get any weirder than that, right?

Derek picked up a slice of pizza and turned his back to the counter, leaning against it. Surveying her as he took a bite, he decided that she probably didn't mean that in the good way.

"Guess you settled for raw hamburger in the meantime?" Were banshees supposed to eat people? He didn't think so. This was some all-new horror, then.

She tilted her head, pressing her lips together. "Guess so."

That was precisely what she did, and she shouldn't be surprised he could smell it on her. She could smell it on her. She could still taste it. It hadn't been enough, but it had been disgusting. Somehow she didn't think Derek would be disgusting. Far from it actually.

He smelled nice, in a way she'd never noticed before, and different, in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on. She ran her tongue over her teeth thoughtfully. Sharp teeth. What?

"What else?" Sudden urges toward cannibalism weren't much to work with. Derek was hoping she had more information.

He was also hoping he didn't have to call his uncle before this was over. Lydia and Peter were awkward at best, and besides, Derek had just gotten Peter out of the loft again. Inviting him back so soon didn't really appeal to him.

"I think I can," she paused, trying to figure out how to word this, "I can smell the wolf part of you. I'm hearing a lot more than normal. Um."

She toungued the fang again. "Oh and this is new." She opened her mouth so he could see.

Being able to smell the wolf in him was certainly something. Coupled with the enhanced hearing, it pointed, in fact, to a werewolf. But Lydia was immune to the bite, as a banshee, and they'd tested that theory before. Derek's brow furrowed. She couldn't be a werewolf, but he supposed there were plenty of other supernatural creatures that shared enhanced senses. Very few of them just happened to humans, though, and even fewer to banshees.

He lifted his eyes to her as she spoke again. Her incisors had changed — not long enough for a wolf, but sharper, more delicate. They sure as hell looked like vampire fangs.

Slowly, he set the pizza aside and crossed the room to her. There was no smell of death, none of the cold, creeping fragrance that vampires carried, the scent like damp earth and rotting wood. He'd never smelled it before, himself, but his mother had spoken of it, and she'd said it was impossible for a wolf to mistake. Born wolves had an instinct, a sense for it. It made their hackles raise and their eyes flash, like a cornered animal.

He felt none of that aggression or fear when he stood close to Lydia, looking down at her. He could hear her heartbeat (uptempo, just a little, now that he was standing within reach of her, looming), could see her breathing. She was every bit alive. Perplexed, he scrutinized her.

With him standing in front of her now, she could hear his heart beating herself. It was tantalizing, like smelling the turkey waft from the kitchen on Thanksgiving. It felt like she could almost see the blood pumping in his veins, though she was fairly sure that was her imagination.

Again her tongue flicked across her lips as she stared at his neck.

He tracked her eyes, listened to her heart. She was looking at him, but not at his face — at his neck. He watched her tongue wet her lips. She might not be dead, but she certainly had the bloodlust down.

Carefully, he gravitated closer, shifting his weight without moving his feet. Maybe he could tempt her hunger to overpower her better judgment. It might reveal some other vampiric qualities, if she had them.

Better judgement was fading fast the longer he stood there and the closer he got. She wasn't sure she had much to begin with on some days, with some people. Derek had never been one of them. After she'd gotten over his initial attractiveness, she could tell he was a dick. Not to mention his uncle had been responsible for a lot of her mental trauma lately.

She wasn't thinking of any of that now. She was thinking about how good he smelled, the faint rush of blood she thought she could hear beneath his skin, the pounding of his heart. That was the loudest. It was almost all she could hear.

Licking her lips once more she reached out to grasp the sides of his face and tilt his head and leaned in to run her tongue across his neck. His skin was rough and slightly salty, and she could feel the blood pulsing beneath.

He shouldn't be letting her get this close. Vampires were fast, faster than most wolves, and as a beta, he might not be quick enough to stop her if she decided to bite. But she was slow and deliberate with her tongue on his neck (savoring his pulse, the flow of his blood, he reminded himself, and now was not the time to start thinking Lydia Martin was pretty cute, for a highschooler), and while he kept his claws at the ready, he let her taste him.

There was still no kickback, no inherent repulsion. She was still alive; her breath was warm on his throat. Vampires died before the changes started happening, didn't they?

(People turned into werewolves when they were bitten, didn't they? Lydia was an exception to one rule. She could be an exception to another.

She could be an exception to a few more, in fact.)

Briefly she thought that this was crazy. That she was sitting here in Derek Hale's loft apartment, licking his neck, and she barely even liked the guy. The thought was fleeting though, and as quickly as it came it, was gone and she was biting into his flesh, hard, tearing with her new found teeth.

The rush of blood in her mouth only made her more adamant, more rabid. She worked his skin with her teeth, lapping up all the blood she could, more of it dribbling down her chin and his shoulder.

But then there were rules that there were no exceptions to, laws ingrained in your very being: the roar of your alpha, the pull of the moon, the uncontrollable revulsion when a vampire sinks its teeth into you.

In a fierce, sudden movement, Derek slammed his hands into Lydia's ribcage, flinging her back from him. He felt rather than heard the ripping of fabric when his claws caught her dress, but any injury to her was a faint concern. Everything rational was buried for a few moments under an overwhelming tide of horror and loathing and deep, ancestral nausea.

In the moments that followed, as he backed himself up against the counter and the shockwaves subsided, he became aware of himself. The ticklish crawl of blood down his throat and shoulder, the sharpness of his eyes, the feel of a mouthful of sharp teeth and the tension in his hands. He breathed, longer and slower, and forced himself to relax. The glow faded from his eyes.

"Vampire," he said lowly as his canines receded.

Lydia hit the ground a few feet away, the blow knocking a bit of sense back into her, but only after the hunger and the initial urge to tear him apart faded. She slowly picked herself up, licking her lips, and wiping blood away from her mouth.

Then his words sunk in. "Vampire." It wasn't a question. What else would she be, drinking blood like that, the fangs. Only she knew general vampire lore like everyone else in the world, and she wasn't dead.

"How does someone just become a vampire? I thought I was immune." To the bite of a werewolf at least, but she didn't remember getting her blood drained by someone. Last person she had been with was Aiden.

He finished collecting himself with a slow swallow, turned his defensive posture into a casual lean against the counter. His neck throbbed. It wasn't healing yet.

"Immune to the bite of a werewolf. Doesn't make you immune to everything." He sincerely hoped she hadn't been going about her life assuming she was immune, full stop. "And people don't just become vampires. There's a process."

From what he recalled of his mother's storytelling, the key was to drink the blood of the vampire. Then, when you died, you were reborn as one of them. Centuries ago, vampires had secretly fed werewolves their blood. Entire packs had been reborn as vampires. Some of them had killed themselves.

"Well that's all well and good, Derek, except I haven't gone through any process. One minute I was fine, the next I was craving blood. Why do these things keep happening to me?"

Now that she was thinking, now that the ravenous hunger she had been experiencing had subsided a bit, it was all hitting her. Somehow she had miraculously become a vampire. Some several months ago she had miraculously become a banshee. What would she become next? A fairy? Would she suddenly sprout wings, and steal children?

She was very close to having a break down.

"Do I look like I have an answer to that?" She'd missed any major arteries, thank God. If she'd managed to nick his jugular, he'd actually be in trouble right now. As it was, he felt safe ignoring the bleeding.

After a beat, he amended, "The process might be different for a banshee. I've never heard of a banshee being turned."

"Of course not."

She felt the tears stinging at her eyes, and didn't bother to hold them back. It would have been a futile battle. Again she was an anomaly. Again she was the one thing no one could explain. Why did this keep happening to her. Why couldn't it happen to anyone else. Like maybe Trisha in her third period math class.

What did she even do now?

Lydia Martin | Teen Wolf | Ota

14 because Reasons

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject