#God when he tells poor Pip not to worry he is not leaving him and holds his hand down

[tavern-cat]

I figured the last time I watched Moby Dick (2011) and gut sobbed at the end it was due to that year being hard...nope! I am sitting here at 2am, eyes swollen because I did it again. 😭😭😭😭😭

[askdjphantasmagloria]

Smooth Operator (Rewritten)

So, yeah. I decided to rewrite Smooth Operator because I didn’t like how it was written. Here’s how I think it should’ve played out. I hope you like it!

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

It was dark, cold, and frightful. A lock of red hair whooshes by as a hooded figure rushes through the bushes. They had just had an encounter with a terrifying creature and they were trying to get out of the forest as fast as they could. Little did they know that they would soon stumble upon Queen Poppy and the other TrollsTopians, who were getting ready to play a wonderful round of Glitter Ball.

“Ok, for my team, my third first pick will be... Dante!” Poppy smiled as she pointed towards the Classical ambassador. Honored to be chosen, Dante smiled and bowed to the crowd before floating over to join the queen and the rest of her teammates.

The hooded figure then heard the voices and began to creep closer, their eyes squinting as they tried to remain mysterious. Slowly lifting up their hood, a scarlet red mustache began to appear...

Val Thundershock was also on the Glitter Ball field, assembling her team for the game to come. But then she took notice of the mysterious troll in the shadows and, like always, began to be suspicious. Who was this troll? What did they want? Were they a threat to the society that she and the other ambassadors worked hard to build up? “And my fourth first pick will be... the mysterious figure in the shadows.” She concluded, motioning to the figure. Confused, everybody turned around to look at the stranger that had been eavesdropping on their conversations. Knowing they had been spotted, the troll stepped forward and slowly took off their hood to reveal... my word! It was the seductive siren, the sultry-silked, the devilishly divine god of romance himself... Chaz Deveaux!

Chaz calmly smiled at the crowd, seemingly not alarmed at all by the fact that his cover was just blown by a keenly-eyed Val. Why should he be afraid? He knew what TrollsTopia was all about due to the fliers that Poppy had sent out a few weeks ago. This was finally his chance to find a family! People who would accept him for who he was! No more running, no more hiding, no more drowning in a sea of loneliness and resentment due to his ex-boyfriend dumping him for something that he couldn’t control. It all ended today.

The crowd gasped along with Poppy, who couldn’t believe that one of the bounty hunters whom she had encountered back when Queen Barb had her famous world tour managed to find their way into her beloved city! “Chaz? The Smooth Jazz troll?” She asked, in complete disbelief.

“That’s my name, darling.” Chaz calmly responded, raising an eyebrow in a curious manner. “Why are you so surprised? Was it not you who summoned me with this flier?” He asked, pulling out the piece of paper. Poppy gently took it from his hands, giving it a thorough read before her face lit up with glee. “Oh, you found it! I was worried that we’d have to use one of our scouts to track you down ourselves, but this is way easier! Yes, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. Our city is expanding but I’ve noticed a lack in diversity of music. I was wondering if maybe... you would like to join our entourage? Come live with us in TrollsTopia, Chaz!” Poppy smiled, her eyes sparkling.

Val, extremely confused by Poppy’s optimism, got in between the two of them and looked the pink cupcake-lover in the eye. “Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Poppy, aren’t you going to tell us who this is? Where did he come from, what’s with his hair, and why does he have two tigers following him around?” She asked, motioning to the two tigers that were sitting besides Chaz.

“I am Chaz Deveaux. I’m half-Classical and half-Pop. My hair is naturally like this, but I do make my own conditioners, shampoos, and lotions out of natural ingredients such as Gigglefruit juice and Sparkle Berries. Also, when you say tigers, you mean Saturn and Jupiter? These are my pet tigers. They’re the only thing I have left of my tribe after... the war. Everybody I knew and loved was stolen from me. Everybody who was still alive, died shortly after. I’m the only survivor...” Chaz explained, tears coming to his eyes as he talked about his life story.

“Aww, you poor thing! What an ordeal...” Poppy frowned. She couldn’t believe that any troll would have to go through such a thing. Let alone a guy who was seemingly so sweet and charming on the outside.

“I’m sorry... talking about it gets me all emotional. Yes, I would love to join TrollsTopia. Wherever shall I stay? You didn’t exactly mention a Smooth Jazz section in your poster the last time I checked and while I would love to reside in Classical Crest or just stay with you Pop trolls, none of those areas properly reflect... me. I need something genuine.” Chaz mentioned, brushing a lock of his hair to the side.

“Ah, yes. We don’t really have a place like that at the moment... but thankfully, my ambassadors and I are known for acting on a whim. Give us about an hour, and we’ll surprise you!” Poppy smiled, gathering the ambassadors and leading them away.

One hour later...

Poppy led Chaz along the grassy path as carefully as she could. The former bounty Hunter was blindfolded and as shown from her experience with the Trolls’ piñata festivities, being blindfolded could pose a bit of a threat to everyday life due to the one who’s eyes are being covered losing their sense of sight and therefore not being able to see what they’re doing or where they’re stepping. “A little farther. A little farther! Listen, Chaz, it breaks our hearts that you don’t feel like you belong. So, we’ve been working on a solution! I called up Barb and asked her if we could use that tiny little beach that she was going to give you back when you were hunting us down, and she said yes! If you would just stand right here...” she said, before stretching out her arms to reveal Chaz’s new home. “TADA!”

Chaz opened his eyes and gasped, his face lighting up with nothing but pure joy at the sight of his house. It was gorgeous. A beach condo made entirely out of what seemed to be marble was waiting for him along the beautiful sands of TrollsTopia’s beach. He could see everything, including the ocean stretching over the horizon. Tears began to well up in his eyes. “Poppy... it’s- it’s beautiful. Thank you...” he whispered, smiling softly.

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet! Come on, let’s go inside!” Poppy giggled, opening the door. Once they were inside, Chaz could immediately see the luxury. A grand fireplace with a picture of him mounted over it, a soft and cuddly fur rug that was just perfect for him to swoon somebody over, comfortable plush chairs that came with built-in cup holders for the jazz troll to hold his many cups of grape wine, a grand kitchen for him to prepare his meals with only the finest ingredients (courtesy of Classical Crest), a deluxe bathroom with everything a troll needs to keep themselves tidy, and a bedroom that was all romantic-themed.

“Wow... thank you, Poppy. I know I haven’t exactly been the best to you during Queen Barb’s world tour, but I was only doing what she said because I didn’t want my music to die out! If she didn’t offer that tiny little island, I would have never even helped her in the first place!” Chaz sighed, facepalming.

“Aww, it’s ok, Chaz! You’ll always have a family here. Your days of being alone are over. Bygones are bygones. After all, my people aren’t exactly squeaky clean either. We all have our flaws. Nobody’s perfect.” Poppy comforted Chaz, giving him a hug. As he hugged back though, Poppy began to internally cringe. She didn’t REALLY believe that Chaz had changed from World Tour! How could somebody who used to EAT other trolls change in the blink of an eye?! Surely he had to be faking it!

The next day...

Chaz was a little crushed, but then he shook his head and smiled. “That’s alright... I suppose I could get used to the new paint job. It does look kind of pretty...” he laughed, trying to remain positive about the situation like he always has. He then gasped as he saw his beautiful beach littered with spray cans and other garbage. “AH! My beach...” he frowned, his heart dropping another few feet.

“Sorry, Mr. Chaz. Queen Poppy never implemented a trash disposal system, so we had no choice but to dump all of our things here. I hope you don’t mind.” Priscilla piped up, the children leaving back to their pods. After that whole mess was dealt with, Chaz decided that maybe a trip into town would make him feel better. He waved hello to any trolls that would walk by, but they all seemed... scared of him. Some would nervously wave back while others would scream and run away. He then overheard a few Classical trolls speaking to each other about Chaz’s music. “Have you ever heard anything so repulsive? Smooth jazz... what a disgrace to our genre. It’s barely a step above lounge music!” One of them said.

“Pip pip to that!” Another one agreed. “The way he obsesses over his appearance is... nasty, to put it the nicest.” A techno troll whispered. Chaz couldn’t believe it. Nobody really liked him. They were only pretending to be nice to him because Poppy said so! Now Chaz didn’t feel positive anymore. Why should he? He was in a world where it didn’t matter what he did. Everyone would always see him as a savage.

“Hey, Chaz! Are you enjoying your stay in TrollsTopia?” Poppy asked, completely oblivious to the situation. A new feeling began to bubble up in Chaz’s chest. All he could see was red. He was tired of being mistreated. It was time to fight back. “That’s it... I have had enough... enough of the stupid pranks! Enough of the mockery! AND MOST OF ALL ENOUGH OF YOU, POPPY!” Chaz growled, letting his frustration and anger merge together as his hair began flowing like a siren’s hair would when she was angry. His hair began to move like tentacles, grabbing the trolls that were around him and holding them up against a nearby rock.

“Chaz! What are you doing?!” Poppy asked, squirming in an attempt to get free. “You think I’m an idiot? I know how you guys REALLY feel about me. All I ever wanted was to be accepted. I just wanted to be loved! But you guys keep treating me like garbage... all because of something I can’t control. If you want a monster so badly, then by all that’s Trolly, I’ll be that monster!” He growled, using his hair to thrash the trolls around.

“Yo, yo, yo! I finally found the red velvet blanket, guys! Would you believe this was the last one on the shelf? What a lucky break!” Synth cheered as he walked in. He gasped, dropping his gift as he saw what was going on. “WHAT THE BARNACLES IS GOING ON HERE?!” He yelled, feeling scared and confused. Chaz turned around, smiling evilly. “Another one? No problem. I can take another.” He laughed, before he began to play his saxophone again.

Surprisingly, Synth was not affected whatsoever! “Uh... what?” He asked, tilting his head before leaning in closer to hear Chaz’s music better. But no matter how much Chaz played, Synth was simply too oblivious to be hypnotized! He smiled at him, placing his hands at his hips. “Cool music, bro! Lemme show you how I play now!” He said, a techno beat beginning to play as water shot up from the ground. Synth formed it into a gigantic water orb and shot it at Chaz, trapping the smooth jazz troll in a ball of sick beats. The ball then collapsed, sending Chaz flying into the distance. The smooth jazz troll tried to launch himself back to Synth to land a punch, but the water had made his hair unable to stretch. Saturn and Jupiter, seeing their master rocket into the sky, emerged from their hiding spots to chase after him. Synth had just saved all of TrollsTopia from Chaz’s rage.

As she caught her breath, Poppy engulfed Synth in a huge hug. “SYNTH! Thank goodness! That was amazing, how did you do that?” She asked. Her eyes lighting up with joy. “You mean that giant orb thing? Oh, I was born with those sorts of powers. I wonder why the music had no effect on me...” Synth thought, before Meadow’s shiny new flower caught his attention. “GIRL! You shine like a glowstick! I could stare at you for hours!” He laughed, swimming towards her as Poppy shook her head and smiled.

“Classic Synth...”

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of TrollsTopia, Chaz fell into an area that was surrounded by marshmallow potatoes... Marshtatoes? He groaned, dusting himself off as he looked upwards. A sinister grin illuminated in the dark, an adorably high-pitched voice ringing out in the silence. “Well hello there... what brings a handsome guy like you to a place like this?” It asked.

“Ugh, I’m glad you asked. I just got kicked out by a walking fish stick. Who are you, anyway?” Chaz asked, raising an eyebrow. From the shadows emerged the mistress of mischief herself, Marshtato Mary. “Me? Call me Mary. And you, my devilishly handsome disciple, may just be the key to helping me get my revenge on those filthy little elves.” She smiled.

“Revenge, you say? Well then...” Chaz smirked, walking closer to her.

“I’d love to join your cause.”

The End

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

[softlass27]

Aaron Week Day 5: “You tricked me!”

AO3 link here

Aaron Dingle is not a cat person. He has never been a cat person – give him a happy, energetic dog he can play fetch with any day.

So why won’t this furry little shit leave him alone?

One evening a few weeks ago, he’d been sat in his living room, minding his own business, when he looked up from his NME magazine to see an orange face watching him from his balcony.

Letting out a startled yelp that he was glad no one heard, Aaron had stared at the ginger tabby cat in the doorway. The cat had stared back. Aaron narrowed his eyes. The cat narrowed its eyes right back at him.

Shaking his head, he’d tilted the magazine a little higher so that he blocked his view of the fur ball outside. By the time he’d finished reading it, he lowered the pages to see an empty balcony. The cat was gone. He forgot all about it.

Until the next evening. It had been warmer that night, and Aaron had left the balcony door open for a cooling breeze. He’d been pottering about in the kitchen, making himself some beans on toast, when he heard a quiet “mrow” behind him.

“What the – ”

Aaron had whirled around to see the same ginger tabby – at least he thought it was the same ginger tabby – sitting innocently on the floor behind him.

“What the hell d’you think you’re doing?”

The cat licked a paw primly.

“You don’t live here, get out.”

Nothing.

Aaron sighed, dropping the tins of beans on the counter before gingerly picking the cat up, praying it didn’t have fleas, and putting it out on the balcony. As he quickly slid the door shut behind him, the cat looked at him with an outraged expression on its face.

“I see that collar round your neck, go to your own home!”

Instead the cat rolled to its side, putting on a real show of stretching out languidly and making itself comfortable. Essentially a massive fuck you right to Aaron’s face.

Aaron snorted. “Whatever.”

*

So now he’s got himself in a situation where this ginger nightmare appears on his balcony every day without fail. Always staring at Aaron, giving him grief and trying to mess with his head. It’s a little like having a tiny, fluffy stalker.

The point of no return comes on the day the damn thing learns how to open the sliding balcony door by itself (the lock broke months ago and he hasn’t gotten around to doing anything about it), and Aaron comes out of his bedroom to see it sitting in the kitchen sink. It hisses when Aaron tries to move it, and Aaron very nearly hisses back.

Despite his less-than welcoming attitude, the thing never takes the hint, returning over and over again.

“Why me, eh?” Aaron asks as he scratches the animal behind the ears one day (probably a mistake). “All the flats you could go to in this building, why’s it my doorstep you darken?”

*

Aaron trudges through the entrance to his building one Friday night, shaking rainwater out of his hair. It's been a week of long shifts at the garage where he works, topped off with the day from hell, one stupid customer after another coming through like the place had a revolving door.

Adam texted him earlier, trying to get him to come on a night out, and his mother’s also been trying to get him to come to the village for his tea, but he’s ignoring them both. All he wants to do is get into his flat, collapse on his bed and sleep for at least twelve hours.

As he walks up the stairs to his floor, he hears a familiar arrogant voice coming from above him, and mentally curses. The last thing he wants to do is run into Tall Blond Arsehole right now, but there’s no escape route.

Tall Blond Arsehole had moved into a flat on the floor above Aaron’s a few weeks ago – the penthouse. The first time Aaron had seen him, the bloke had been on his phone and been coming into the building just as Aaron was leaving. He’d been walking at top speed and had bumped Aaron had on the shoulder as they had passed each other.

“Watch where you’re goin’,” Aaron had grumbled, just loud enough for the man to hear him.

The man barely paused, throwing a quick glare over his shoulder and snapping “You watch it, mate.” before returning to his phone conversation and disappearing up the stairs.

They hadn’t spoken since that morning, and that suited Aaron just fine. Tall Blond Arsehole doesn’t seem to talk to anyone in the building, always on that bloody phone yelling at some poor sod named Jimmy, nattering on about contracts, deals and meetings. Nothing more than a boring businessman with an over-inflated sense of his own importance.

(He’s also incredibly fit, but that’s by the by.)

Now, Tall Blond Arsehole comes breezing down the flight of stairs, dressed in one of his usual sharp suits and barely sparing Aaron a glance as he passes by him. Aaron rolls his eyes, before continuing up the stairs and practically falling through the door to his flat.

He shuffles down the hallway to his bedroom, not even stopping to take his hoodie and jeans off before collapsing on top of the covers.

“Mrrrp.”

Aaron’s eyes fly open instantly and he rips the duvet back to reveal a curled up orange ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He shoots the cat an incredulous look. “My bed now?”

The demonic creature just uncurls and glares at him, as if Aaron’s the one who invaded its space, rather than the other way around.

“How did you even – you know what, fuck it. M’too knackered to give a shit. Do whatever you want.”

He slides under the duvet and lets his eyes fall shut. A few moments later, he feels slight movement next to him, and then soft warmth pressing against him. He falls asleep with the cat purring against his chest.

*

He awakes to knocking at the door. Blearily opening his eyes, Aaron realises that it’s much later now, the room pitch black. Too late to move.

Determined to ignore the noise – whatever the hell this person wants will have to wait – he rolls over until his face hits something soft and fluffy.

“Jesus Christ!” He jerks up and fumbles to switch the lamp on, the low light revealing the ginger nightmare still lying in his bed. “Oh God, you’re still here.”

The cat paws at the strings of Aaron’s hoodie, seemingly unconcerned by the fact it had nearly given him a heart attack. The knocking at the door starts up again. It’s louder this time and a quick glance at his phone tells him it’s nearly two o’clock in the bloody morning. For fuck’s sake.

Aaron staggers out into the living room and flings the door opening roughly, ready to tell whoever it is exactly where to go, only to find Tall Blond Arsehole standing in front of him.

He looks different to usual, smart clothes swapped for a soft-looking blue t-shirt and grey pair of jogging bottoms. His hair has lost its neat style, sticking up in all directions as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and instead of looking cocky, his entire being seems to be full of panic and distress.

“Uh… ” The furious words Aaron had been about to bark die on his throat, and he vaguely wonders if he’s still asleep and this is just part of some weird dream.

“Oh… it’s you,” the man says, a hint of awkwardness creeping in his expression.

“Er, yeah. What’s up?”

“Um, I’m sorry, I know it’s really late… ”

“It’s okay,” Aaron finds himself saying without meaning to. Christ, he must be going soft.

“I’m just… I’m looking for my cat. He’s a ginger tabby, has a blue collar and I can’t find him anywhere. Have you seen him by any chance?”

That little fucker.

Aaron grabs the man’s arm and pulls him into the living room.

“Wait here a sec.”

Aaron jogs back to his bedroom and picks up the cat, who rubs its head under his chin (probably thinks it’s getting a cuddle), and returns to the living room.

“Pippin!” Tall Blond Ars – okay, maybe just Tall Blond for now – gasps, taking the cat from Aaron’s arms and cuddling him to his chest. “You absolute demon.”

The cat – Pippin – yowls loudly, its head turning to Aaron with a look he can only identify as betrayal. The damn thing barely reacts when Tall Blond fusses over him happily, stroking his fur with a thumb and pressing relieved kisses to his head.

Tall Blond finally looks up at him with shining eyes, and Aaron swears he feels his heart skip a beat. Shit.

“I’m – God, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know where – I thought he might’ve – ” he rambles quickly, cradling the cat like a baby, and Aaron wonders how long his neighbour has been frantically searching for his pet demon. “I know he likes to go walkabout, but he hasn’t come home in days and… Sorry if he’s been a bother.”

Aaron frowns. “What? Days? No, he was just… oh.” His eyebrows raise in surprise. “He normally just comes and goes, lets himself out. I haven't been home much these last few days, I didn’t realise he’d been staying.”

His gaze drifts down to Pippin, who now looks impossibly smug. “You tricked me, you little stowaway!”

Pippin sneezes unapologetically.

They stand there awkwardly for a moment, before Aaron asks, “Pippin? Cute name. Doesn’t fit him at all.”

Tall Blond's face twitches into a smile. It makes his eyes crinkle in a way that has Aaron’s stomach doing somersaults, and Jesus Christ, how had he not noticed those freckles before?

“Yeah, it’s er… it’s from Lord of the Rings.”

“Oh. Never seen it.”

“You’ve never – ” Tall Blond’s eyes widen, scandalised. “You’re missing out.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well, thanks for having him over… even if you didn’t know it? And sorry again.”

“S’no bother. At least now I know who to call when he knocks my plants off the windowsill.”

The smile drops off the man’s face and he looks down at Pippin.

“Pip, mate!” He scolds Pippin like he’s a naughty child, and the cat meows back at him angrily. “What the hell, we talked about this!”

It’s ridiculous. This attractive man and his argumentative cat are both ridiculous, and Aaron can’t help laughing slightly hysterically.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. Again. How much do I owe you?”

“Mate, don’t worry about it.” Aaron waves away the man’s protest. “Honestly, I don’t care, they were just some cheap B&Q ones my mum forced me to get. Said my place needed brightening up or summat. Glad to have an excuse to be rid of them, if I’m honest, I’m hopeless at keeping plants alive.”

“Okay, if you’re sure… ” He still doesn’t look happy, though. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

The words fly out of his mouth before Aaron can stop them. “Buy me a pint if you like?”

The man blinks at him, before his mouth curls into a small (flirtatious?) smile. “A pint it is.”

“Okay. Great. Uhm, I’m Aaron, by the way,” Aaron smiles back as he opens the door so they can step into the corridor.

“Oh. Robert.” He gestures to the squirming cat. “And you know Pippin.”

“Good to finally have a name for him, I’ve just been calling him ginger nightmare most of the time.” He decides not to share what he’d been calling Robert up until now.

Robert's surprised laugh echoes loudly in the hallway and he presses a fist to his mouth to muffle it. Aaron looks at him, helplessly fond, and can’t help but wonder how the man he’s been silently hating for weeks on end and this man giggling in his pyjamas can possibly be the same person.

“I dunno, that’s pretty accurate,” Robert says eventually, still chuckling. “Well, I… should let you sleep. And thanks again, I know this was a bit… ”

“Random?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay.”

“So can I… pick you up tomorrow night for that drink? Around seven?”

“I’ll be here.”

“Great. Night, then.”

Aaron nods, watching Robert walk towards the staircase. They smile at each other one last time, and Robert disappears upstairs, Pippin’s meows still faintly audible.

Before he goes back to bed, Aaron spends twenty minutes scrolling through his phone for the best cat toy he can find. He owes Pippin a thank you present.

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Dimension Jumping pt. 2

The Fellowship x Reader

Fluffy pants, creepy coworkers, and grocery lists. Fun times

Trigger warning: mentions of stalker.

After that kind of rocky introduction and confusing explanation of their quest and what they were doing exactly (also what happened to their wizard ‘Gandalf’) things began to work out better. 

At first, they were in a kind of panic since they aren’t able to destroy that ring thing if they’re in your world, but then you reminded them that they can’t destroy it, and this Sauron guy can’t get it. 

This seems to ease their worries a bit. 

It was very easy for you to get along with the two blond 'hobbit’ cousins Merry and Pippin, and Samwise is a wonderful help in the kitchen. Mr. Legolas kinda just awkwardly stands around most of the time (he doesn’t sleep apparently), while the 'dwarf’, Gimli, likes to bother said 'elf’ which you find to be quite amusing. The two actual human dudes seem to be the more authoritative figures here, so they help to keep everyone in check and ensure they don’t break anything.

Penny has, quite literally, fallen in love with that brown-haired bastard Aragorn, and you’ve sworn that if he breaks her little fluffy heart you’re going to fucking murder him. Lucky for him, it seems he is quite fond of her in return since he sometimes sits idly on your couch with her laying across his lap. This asshole must have dog treats in his pocket or something because there’s no way she would ditch you for some scraggly handsome stranger like in the movies. 

Of course, you don’t complain about it or anything, rather you just leave it and enjoy the fact that Penny is happy (while silently plotting his painful murder in your mind). 

You also had to show them how to work the bathroom, and after they got over their initial shock and awestruck, they all bathed (thank god for your poor nose) and you offered to go get them more clothes later on so you can figure out how to wash theirs.

Overall, it seems that everything is going smoothly and will continue to do so. 

You have yet to give them a chance to mess with your laptop or phone (or even the TV), but mostly because you’re afraid they’ll die of shock. 

Before you know it a week has passed, and not only are they still in your damn home but they’re so freaking well-behaved and polite you actually find yourself not wanting them to go. 

“Why do you wear those fluffy pants?” The sweet little Pippin asks. 

Everyone insists he and his cousin are mischievous little monsters, but you find them to be nothing but adorable and polite. “Because, my dear boy, they are really freaking comfortable. I’m gonna go to the store later and get all of you a pair. They will change your lives." 

His eyes grow wide at your overly dramatic description of fluffy pants and he suddenly seems excited, "Really? Some for all of us?" 

You nod your head with a bright smile on your face, lifting your leg up for him to touch it. "Feel how nice they are!" 

When Pippin places his hand on the soft, fuzzy fabric he looks surprised, "I don’t think I’ve felt trousers so soft before!" 

"Fluffy pants, Pippin. They’re called fluffy pants." 

"Fluffy pants.” He repeats in confirmation. 

His cousin, Merry, chose then to walk into the room, and when he sees the two of you he looks confused. “Pip, what are you doing?" 

"Oh! Merry, come here and feel these!” He exclaims, not bothering to answer his question. 

Merry does as he says, albeit hesitantly, but when his hands touch that miracle fabric he looks just as shocked, “You’ve got such peculiar clothing… I like it." 

"Well, I was just telling my buddy over here that I’m going to get everyone some and absolutely ruin your wardrobe since you’ll never want to wear anything but these ever again.” You tell him smugly, jumping to your feet suddenly, “Oh, I’ve gotta go do something. Keep an eye on Penny for me, won’t you?" 

Yeah, they don’t need to since she’s busy sleeping on a napping Aragorn, but you ask nonetheless. 

You retreat to another room and begin to organize the things you moved from your guest bedroom, wanting everything to be less cluttered while they stay here. 

The air mattress had to come out and everything because of how many there are, but you don’t mind a little extra work for some companionship in response. Heaven knows you need someone to keep you out of your own head.

While you’re neatening things, the blond elf guy walks in and observes you for a few moments, saying nothing and kinda just standing there. You turn after a minute or so and look at him questioningly, "Is there something I can help you with?" 

He doesn’t say anything right away, and so you grab a couple of books and straighten them while you wait. 

"What are you doing?” He asks instead of answering you (a very Pippin move). 

Despite your heart wanting you to be sarcastic in your reply you answer him seriously, “I’m cleaning up a bit since I had to take all of this stuff out of my guest room. It’s kinda messy if you couldn’t tell." 

You wipe your hands on your fluffy pants and smile at him. "I’m almost done. Did you need me for something?" 

He actually acknowledges your question this time with a shake of his head, "No. I wanted to see if you require any assistance." 

Ah, that makes sense. He definitely seems like the helpful type. 

"Oh, well some help would be nice. Maybe you could move those boxes,” you point to some cardboard boxes in the corner of the closet you shoved everything into, “over there.” You then point to a shelf that is mostly empty. 

He nods again and goes to do just that right away, and you go back to sorting through a box full of papers.

“What made you allow us to stay?” He suddenly inquires, lifting the boxes you asked for help with easily. 

You’re a bit surprised at his engagement in conversation and the topic he chose, but you answer despite that. “Well like I said before, I know a group of sad saps when I see it… I didn’t know you’d lost your friend, but I could tell something wasn’t right. And… I don’t know, your hobbits looked so hungry and tired, I couldn’t kick you all out and keep a clean conscience.” It’s true, but what you leave out is the desire you had for some company. Penny is more than enough, but recently you’ve been feeling lonely and inadequate, so you jumped on the opportunity to be useful in your monotone life. 

“There’s something you’re not saying.” He says it like a statement rather than a question, and while he’s right you only shrug. 

“My reasons are my own, but what I told you is my main explanation. Take it or leave it.” You don’t mean to act so cold and aloof, but the thinking about your flaws and recently depressive state only serves to dampen your mood. 

“I meant not to offend, I apologize if upset you. I was only curious." 

You smile at him over your shoulder apologetically yourself, "No, don’t say sorry. I’m just a bit cranky is all, haven’t been getting much sleep." 

He can tell that’s not the truth, but he nods anyway and lets it drop. 

Suddenly the sound of Penny barking reaches your ears, and you sigh knowing that someone is probably at the door. 

When she abruptly stops, you pause and decide to finish with the last small stack you have before going out to check.

Big mistake.

Once you walk out of the storage closet, you’re met with the sight of two hiding hobbits, and Aragorn at the  freaking  door. Your eyes widen in horror, and you turn and close the door in Legolas’ face before he can exit. 

When the door slams, someone pokes their head around the tall 'ranger’ and smiles. 

"Oh, Y/N there you are!" 

Uh oh, he’s not supposed to be there. 

"B-Brian, hey, what… what are you doing here?” You ask slowly, walking over to try and diffuse whatever situation is going on here. “I didn’t even know you knew my address…" 

He smiles brightly despite that and waves his hand, "Don’t worry about it, the boss gave it to me and told me to check up on you! You haven’t been answering your messages and this is the most work you’ve missed in the past, like, 4 years.” His tone is bright and cheery, but you can see behind that mask of pleasantries is nothing but a prying brat who has to know everything 24/7. 

You ignore your dark thoughts and simply smile at him in return, “Yes, well I’ve been very busy. And, actually, I texted Marissa about my absence for the week ahead of time, so I don’t see why she would send you. She told me that I can work from home until I’m ready to come back.” You never liked Brian. Much too nosy and too much of a snake for your liking.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and see that you have… holy shit, 43 missed messages? All from Brian? Ew, okay, that’s weird. 

But you decide not to comment on it.

“Right, well, who is this? I haven’t seen him before." 

Shoot. 

You look up at the brown-haired man sharply, then back at Brian. "W-Who, him? Oh, this is just my… boy…friend… Ara- Er, Aaron. He’s, uh, staying here because his house burned down.” God, you’re a horrible liar, but you try to keep your face straight either way. “Who he is doesn’t matter, I’m kinda busy right now so if you could just…" 

You go to close the door, but he only steps a bit closer, "Wait-! I didn’t know you have a boyfriend!” His expression is more panic stricken now, and dare I say upset,

Ughhhhh  fucking Brian . 

Suddenly a voice pipes up from behind you, “Is there an issue over here?" 

Oh great, another challenger has appeared, and his name is freaking Boromir. 

"Wait, who is this then?” His countenance goes kinda sour, “Your other boyfriend?" 

You face-palm and slowly drag your hand down your cheek, groaning internally at his horrible timing (also electing to ignore Brian’s bitter comment). "This is… Aaron’s druggie brother, Bo…Beau. He likes meth.”

Brian looks alarmed at your mention of him being a meth head, but you only smile and internally kick yourself for coming up with something like that . “You have crackheads staying at your house?! With how you’ve been recently?! S-Should I-" 

You only shake your head once and slam your hand on the wall, "Brian, I am a big girl, and big girls don’t need their  coworkers  to keep them safe. I’ve been nice, but what I do is literally none of your fucking business, so leave me alone or I’ll call Marissa and tell her about,” you pause and lean forward, whispering with a faux sweet voice, “The janitors closet…" 

His face goes pale at the mention of the horrid sight you’d walked into that one faithful Tuesday, and he nods his head in understanding, "R-Right, sorry to bother you! I’ll uh, get going now then. Enjoy your break!" 

He’s gone before you even close the door. 

You simply stare at the closed door for a few moments, trying to process what the hell just happened.

"Miss Y/N?” Merry calls from behind the couch. “What did he mean by 'how you’ve been’? Are you alright?" 

Unable to keep your cool, you reach up and bury your fingers in your hair and groan loudly from frustration, "Ugh! Fucking Brian! Why did you have to open the door to that loser!?” You yell incredulously, pulling on your hair rather harshly. You don’t even entertain the idea of answering that question.

Aragorn seems surprised by your sudden angry outburst, so much so that he steps back and bumps against the wall. 

“He’s always in my damn business! Acting like I haven’t caught him doing  unmentionable  things in that closet! Why him? Why did you think it was a good idea to open the door?!” You don’t mean to yell or to get so angry, but it’s almost like a splash of cold water in the face. A reminder that things are temporary and unexplainable to outsiders. “He’s such a stalker! God, this is going to come back and bite me in the ass!”

You drag your hands down your face and simply stand there for a moment, ignoring all the people gathering in your living room to stare at their mental brake-down having hostess.

“I apologize, I-I didn’t mean to-” Woah he actually trips over his words.

Before he can finish his apology you raise a hand up in a silencing motion. “No, shut up. Don’t apologize I’m not actually mad at you.” It sounds like you are, but you aren’t.

If you were looking at him, you’d see that he visibly relaxes. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell I just… he frustrates me. I’m not angry at any of you, I promise.” You drop your hands back to your side and stare at the door for a few moments before turning and walking back into the living room.

“You’re kind of scary,” Sam states from Frodo’s side at the entrance of the kitchen. 

You look over at the two and furrow your eyebrows, “Scary? Me? No way. Just a little irritated.” If anything they’re the scary ones, with their swords and evil ring and all that. 

You glance back at the dark-haired man still at the front door and bite your lip, “I’m really sorry." 

A small and forgiving smile creeps onto his face, and you feel relieved right away. "Perhaps I shouldn’t have opened the door." 

This earns a small laugh and nod from you, "Now that freak thinks you’re my homeless male friend and he’s your drugged up brother. Not a very good reputation.” You don’t bother going over calling him your boyfriend in a panic - if they even know what it means in the first place. 

Suddenly ever innocent Pippin asks, “What’s meth?" 

Lord save your soul. 

—

After explaining to everyone what meth is and how you straight up just called Boromir a doped up loser to someone none of them know, you all have a good laugh. And once you’re all done laughing, you join Sam in the kitchen and notice that he’s taken an inventory of your kitchen. 

"Hello, chef Ramsay. What can I do for you?” You ask with a cheery smile, watching him go through your cupboard while literally standing on the counter with Frodo watching from the floor. 

“Who is chef Ramsay?” Sam asks, looking down at you from his leveraged spot on the counter. 

Oh, right, the poor soul doesn’t know the meme. 

“Nobody, what are you up to?” You change the subject quickly, a part of you hoping he approves of your kitchen. 

“Well… your shelves are lacking a lot. And your… what did you call it, fridge? It is basically empty. What do you eat all week?" 

You don’t reply right away, staring holes into him at his obviously spotty memory. "Well, Sam the thing is, I am one woman, and this one woman didn’t think she’d need to buy groceries for 8 men who all eat like they haven’t seen food for the past week… every meal." 

"So then perhaps we should go shopping!” He exclaims, closing the cabinet and hopping back down to the tiled floor. 

Excuse me, did he just say 'we’? Uh, yeah no.

You shake your head quickly, “No, Sam there aren’t people like you in my world. I can’t take you." 

His face falls and he looks around at the kitchen, crestfallen, "But I can’t tell you what to get if I don’t go…" 

Aw… he looks so sad. It makes your heart pang uncomfortably, and you find that you wanna make him smile again. "Here, I’ll tell you what. I’ll get some paper and a pen, and you can write down everything you want me to get on that. How does that sound?”

Almost immediately he perks up and nods his head, “Oh, that sounds wonderful!" 

Bingo. 

"Did you hear that Mr. Frodo? She said she’ll get whatever we want! Come help me make the list!” Okay, maybe this wasn’t a good idea. 

You gather the things you promised from a drawer to your right, then hand them down to him. “Here you are, dear. Take your time, and I’ll go tomorrow. And don’t forget to ask everyone else what they want.”

Hopefully, you won’t live to regret this. 

Without further ado, he rushes out of the kitchen calling for Merry and Pippin. 

These fellas are going to bankrupt you… but if you get to see those happy smiles again, then it’s definitely worth it. 

[hamiltalian-creates]

Little Hamilton oneshot or short fic of an AU where Philip lives?

(As a certified idiot, I wasn’t sure what you meant by little Hamilton, but I could try it if you explained what you meant. Anyways, here’s the first part of the Philip Lives fic!)

Summary: Some bullet wounds are survivable, which Philip finds out for himself. But that doesn’t mean that the wound (and the repercussions) won’t still hurt like hell. 

Pairings: None

Words: 1,482

Warnings: Philip gets shot

Quiet. Philip was an outgoing person, but he always did enjoy the quiet. And the quiet was what he needed to get where he was that morning. He needed to be quiet to get out of the house without waking his parents or, god forbid, his younger siblings. He needed to be quiet as he crossed into New Jersey for his duel, as he left his home to somewhere his duel would at least be less illegal. And now, there was a heavy quiet on the field as he and George Eacker stood on opposite sides, with nobody but a doctor and their seconds, Philip’s being his good friend, Stephen Price. 

“You look nervous, Pip,” Stephen noticed as his friend prepared for the moment. 

Philip almost laughed as he fidgeted with his pistol. “It’s my first duel, of course I’m nervous.”

“Well, don’t be,” Stephen reassured as he clapped his friend’s back. “You were there yesterday, Eacker didn’t harm me and he wouldn’t harm you.” 

Philip just nodded. 

“I’ll be right here if anything does go wrong. But nothing will.” He gave his friend a reassuring smile before the duel went on and the two men met in the middle. 

Philip took a deep breath as he found himself back to back with Eacker and began taking his ten paces. 

One. Two. 

At least he knew for sure that he wasn’t in the wrong. Eacker did insult his father and for that, he had to pay. 

Three. Four. 

Stephen was right. His duel with Eacker was proof that nothing too bad would happen. 

Five. Six. 

Philip just had to follow his father’s advice and everything would be okay. His father would never steer him in the wrong direction, would he? 

Seven-

Philip felt his mind go blank with nerves as the moment drew closer. It didn’t matter how much reassurance he received or how much he told himself that things were going to be okay, he was scared. 

So, when the moment came and Philip and George turned to face each other, the former couldn’t get himself to move and it seemed like the latter merely mirrored him. 

Seconds quickly turned to minutes as Philip stood across the field and his mind scrambled to remember everything his father had told him. Anything his father had told him. 

After what felt like hours, Philip slowly raised his gun and watched as George did the same. Just as his father had advised, Philip planned to raise his aim towards the sky, to show he had no intentions of letting anyone get injured that day-

His plans were interrupted by a loud bang in the air and a horrible burning sensation on his side. 

Philip fell to his knees and Stephen ran to his side, wildly gesturing to show that the duel was over and saying something that Philip couldn’t understand through the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. Philip pressed his hand to his side and attempted to calm himself down as it came back relatively clean, but the stripe of bright red on his hand kept him from doing that as it reminded him of a simple truth. He’d been shot. The bullet seemed to have only grazed his side, but all that meant was that had Philip shifted two inches to the right, he’d be dead. 

The doctor rushed over once the duel was officially ended and tended to Philip’s wound, Stephen holding Philip’s hand through the pain. 

“It’s going to hurt, but you’re going to be able to walk away from this just fine,” the doctor assured. 

“You hear that, Pip? A bullet couldn’t stop you if it tried,” Stephen joked, hoping to reassure his friend. 

Philip just nodded and kept taking deep breaths in and out, watching Eacker and his second leave the field. He may not have been too badly injured, but his ego sure was. After all, he’d lost the duel. He failed his father. 

“I’ve wrapped the wound. It should heal in a matter of weeks, at the most. For now, is there anywhere nearby where you could rest before going home? It’s best to refrain from walking as much as possible.” 

Philip thought for a second before nodding. “My aunt Angelica lives in Manhattan.” 

“I can help him hold his weight, easily,” Stephen said, proving so as he lifted Philip onto his back. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t strain himself too much.” 

The doctor nodded and left for his home, letting the two boys make their trek to the home of Angelica Church. 

“She’s going to kill me, Stephen. I believe she’d scalp me without hesitation when she hears about this.” 

Stephen chuckled. “I’d be more afraid of how your mother is going to react.” 

“Ma.. I didn’t even think about her reaction..” Philip never planned on telling his mother about the duel, he knew how opposed she’d be to such an event and how worried she’d be about him. Between all of his siblings, another on the way, and the tense relationship between her and his father, the last thing Philip wanted to do was stress her further. 

“I’m sure she’ll understand when you explain it.” 

Philip didn’t respond. He wasn’t so sure. He may have been a grown man, but nobody liked to see their parents so upset at each other. He had no idea how angry it would make her to know that it was his father who’d given Philip the advice that had gotten him hurt. 

Stephen sighed and realized that nothing was going to cheer up his poor friend, not that he could be blamed for his poor mood. He stayed silent the rest of the time as he carried his friend to his aunt’s home, Angelica herself being the one to open the door. 

“Good morning, aunt Angelica..” Philip muttered sheepishly. 

“Philip?.. What’s wrong, are you hurt?” she asked as she let Stephen inside. 

“Philip was in a duel with George Eacker and the coward shot him.”

“It was just a graze!” Philip quickly interjected, not wanting to worry her too badly. “The doctor said that it’ll heal on its own, I just need to rest..” 

Angelica gasped and quickly helped Stephen get Philip onto the couch, letting him lay down. “Why would you do such a thing? Have you lost your mind?!” 

“I wanted to defend my father’s honor,” Philip explained as he shifted a bit. “Stephen dueled him yesterday and neither of them were hurt, I’d assumed that today was going to follow suit.” 

“And what good that did you,” Angelica snapped before stopping herself. “Are you in any pain?” 

“A deep ache more than anything. I’ll be alright, I just need to rest.” 

“If you insist..” 

Philip nodded and let himself take a nap, waking up hours later to the sound of yelling at the door. 

“How could you let him do a thing like this?! I’d never even look at you again if he’d gotten severely injured!” 

“Angelica, please, just let me see him! He’s my son!” 

Philip sat up and took a deep breath before slowly pushing himself to his feet, groaning at the pain. His rest allowed it to settle to a dull ache, but the pressure of holding up his weight made it feel like someone had hit him in the side with a bat. 

Still, he knew this arguing wasn’t just going to end, so he pushed through the pain and moved towards the door until he could see his father. He was so worried and Philip felt guilty all over again, hoping that things would end well enough. 

“Philip!” Alexander cried out as he saw his son. He rushed past Angelica and towards his son, carefully grabbing his shoulders and looking at his pale face. “Oh, Philip.. What are you doing on your feet? You should be lying down..” 

“I heard you and aunt Angelica yelling.. I don’t want anyone fighting over a mistake that I made.” 

Alexander smiled sadly. Even he blamed himself for what happened to his son, but as upset as Philip seemed, he couldn’t bare to argue with him. “Alright.. We will try to keep it down as long as you promise to take it easy while you recover from this.” 

It sounded like something a parent would just say to calm down their child, but Philip wanted to be hopeful. “Thank you..”

“Of course.” Alexander smiled and kissed Philip’s forehead before taking him to sit back down. “I’ll be right here if you need me.” 

Philip smiled and laid back down, his head in his father’s lap. It was almost like he was a kid again, like the afternoons spend resting with his father whenever he became too ill to study or when Alexander let him have a break. He almost wished he was a kid again. Things were so much more simple back then. 

[oskea93]

Think of You: Part Eight

Warnings: Sexual situations, cussing, Nikki and Caroline drama A/N: Hey guys! Hope you all enjoy the update. I had a bit of writers block on this update so that’s the reason it took so long to get out. If you would like to be tagged for updates, please let me know! Again, enjoy!! 

“It’s so good to hear your voice.”

“It’s good to hear your voice too.” I smiled. “I feel like it’s been forever since I talked to you.” I took a seat under the phone. “How have you been?”

She let out a sigh, “Same ol’ same ol’, sugarplum. I just put away a quart of Apple butter, you should get you a jar when you come home.” My mom’s soft voice floated through the phone. “I really miss you, darling.” A ping of guilt pierced through my heart. “I would come and see you but you know how your daddy hates to fly.”

My mother was my rock.  Katherine Daniels was the ultimate mother figure. She made sure to always be there for her child, putting her own life on the back burner. She made sure that I had everything I wanted and needed in life. She was always there when I fell and hurt myself or when I had a bad day at school. I could tell her anything and not have to worry about receiving a speech, unlike how my father was. Katherine was your typical southern belle, only this southern belle was stuck in a lackluster marriage and highly unappreciated by her husband. She never spoke her mind or stood up for herself when my dad was being a jerk, which was often. He never hit her or anything but used his words to tear her down. After he was done tearing her down, he would bring her flowers or kiss her on the cheek, making sure everything was right again. When I was younger, I thought that was how relationships worked. I thought that I was expected to stay in the house and do everything possible for my husband and children. I would have to have dinners ready at a certain time. I would have to my sure my children were satisfied, as well as my husband, but in other ways. Luckily, my mother instilled in me that I could be anything I wanted, basically pushing me out to make sure my dreams come true.

My dad on the other hand was nothing like my mother. He was your typical dad for the time, a working man who brought home the money and disciplined the children. Sure, he loved me, but he hardly ever showed it. He would simply tell me and that was it. He wasn’t hands-on at all. He never offered to take me to ballet classes if my mom was sick, he never offered to help with homework, he was just there and that was it. My father lived by the bible. What the word of God said, he followed, making my mom and myself follow as well. He banned certain music to be played in the house. I would have to hide certain records in my closet so he wouldn’t see them when passing by. Gospel and Country music were all that could be played, when he was there that is. When he was gone, my mom and I played anything from Motown to The Beatles. The Beatles were my mom’s favorite, aside from Dion, who she dreamed of marrying back in the 50s. I guess I’m lucky I had both my parents in the home. I shouldn’t be complaining no matter how sucky my dad was.

“Maybe you could come by yourself?” I suggested, already knowing the answer. My mother never went anywhere without my dad. She ever asked permission to go to the grocery store. The line stayed silent, “Mom?” I asked.

“That’s alright, dear. You know I don’t like to travel on my own. “Her voice held disappointment but she was trying her hardest to keep it upbeat. “How is Mackenzie doing?” She quickly changed the subject.  “I seen her father out in town the other day, looked as if he hasn’t showered in weeks.”

I let out a sigh, “She’s doing good. I think she’s trying to get a job at one of the fancy restaurants in Beverly Hills, wants to put her name out there.” My mom secretly adored Mackenzie. I think she often thought of her as one of her own, but of course hid those feelings from my father. From the first day I brought Mac home to play, my father despised her. He would tell me that she was nothing but trouble and to never play with a kid from the train tracks. Mac’s family was poor and had a lot of issues. Her dad was a drunkard who spent all his money on booze rather than on his family. Her mother was a sickly woman who developed a disease from the factory she worked in. She passed away when Mac and I were juniors in high school. Mac was the fourth child out of seven. Her older siblings moved away and had families of their own, leaving Mac to take care of her younger siblings. It got so bad that the government came and took her siblings away, placing them in a new house with a new family. Mac was devastated but there was nothing she could do. She didn’t have a job at the time and was still living at home with her dad. My mom basically took her under her wing until Mac moved out to California, causing me to move out here as well. Where Mac went, Caroline followed.

“Well that’s good, I’m happy for her.” She said. “So, have you been on anymore dates since the one with the rude gentleman.” My heart started to beat a bit faster. The last time I had spoken to my mother was the night I had my date with James. That was also the night Nikki showed up at my apartment.

I stalled for a moment, trying to decide if I wanted to tell her I was in a relationship. I was also stalling to find the right words to describe who I was in a relationship with. “Uh-”I started. “I’ve been seeing someone.” I spoke slowly. “He, um-”I began to stutter. “He’s in sales.” I blurted out. I threw my head back against the wall out of frustration. I should have just kept my mouth shut and told her I was becoming a nun. Well, becoming a nun was definitely not in the cards after the sins I’ve committed.

“Oh-“ My mother’s voice pipped up. “How did you meet?”

Before I could answer, the bedroom door opened, revealing a half-naked Nikki standing in the doorway. His hair was a mess and the sheet he had wrapped around his waist was hanging very low. “Are you done yet?” He yawned. I had forgotten all about my mother being on the phone, my attention focused on the man in front of me.

“Caroline, hello?” My mother called out.

“Uh-“ I stuttered. I watched as Nikki sauntered over to where I was sitting. He knelt down in front of where I was sitting. I watched him, confusion written all over my face.

“What are you doing?” I mouthed, earning a smirk.

“Caroline Vanessa, is everything okay?” My mom questioned again.

He slowly picked up my left leg, placing it over his bare shoulder, slowly kissing his way up as he did so. I couldn’t help but start breathing a little harder as his mouth worked its way up my leg. I knew where this was going and I was not going to be on the phone with my mother during it.

“Ye-yeah, mom.” My response was breathy. “I’m here.” I tried to smack Nikki away as he moved further up my legs, nipping and kissing his way up. Without warning, he slowly pulled my underwear down, burying his head between my legs.

“Oh-“ I gasped. “Mom, I’m gonna have to go.” I rambled quickly. Before she could say anything, I quickly hung up the phone, my hands instantly pulling at Nikki’s hair. His teeth pulled and his tongue worked against my most sensitive spot, it was painfully wonderful. “Nikki.” I drew out his name. I had nothing to hold on to, seeing as I was sitting on a wooden chair in the kitchen. When I first went to call my mom, Nikki was passed out in the bed, no sign of him waking up anytime soon. I hated to hang up on my mom like that but there was no way I was going to have sex with her on the other end of the phone. “Tell me what you want?” Nikki spoke as he broke for air. “Tell me, Caroline.” His eyes were filled with lust, as were mine I’m sure. I ran my hands through my hair, tugging at the ends. “Caroline.” He repeated.

“CAROLINE!”

I jolted out of bed, getting caught in the blankets and sheets that once covered my body. “Shit.” I muttered as I untangled myself from the mess, rubbing my hurt knee as I struggled to stand on both feet. “Were you having a sex dream?” Mac asked, a smile plastered on her face. My face instantly turned red as I felt utterly embarrassed. The whole thing felt so real! The way his lips moved up my thigh, the feeling of his hair between my fingers, and the conversation with my mother, it all felt so damn real. “You were totally having a sex dream!” Mac continued to gloat. “It must have been some damn good sex because I could hear you moaning all the way from the living room.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, my face an even deeper shade of crimson. In all of my 21 years on this planet, I never once had a dream like that. Sure, I’ve kissed a couple guys in my dreams, but I never had sex with them.

Mac let out a sigh, “It’s perfectly normal to have those sorts of dreams. Hell-”I watched as she hopped up on the kitchen counter. “I’ve have them on the daily.” Typical Mac. I grabbed a cup from the shelf, pouring myself a cup of coffee that I assumed Mac had just brewed.

“How long have you been here and why are you here so early?” I questioned. Mac was never an early riser. She was the type of person that was late to school half the time because she couldn’t wake up on time. Through my years of being friends with her, I learned that it was best to meet up with Mac after noon. It was a little shocking to see standing in my kitchen, fully dressed, and wide awake.

“Michael had to go meet s-“  

“Whoa, whoa, whoa-“ I cut her off. “Who’s Michael?” I was confused. The last I heard from Mac’s own mouth was that she was seeing Tommy. They were practically hooking up every time they were around each other. I even caught them going at it when Nikki brought me to the studio a week or two ago.

She looked at me as if I was stupid, “He’s my new boyfriend, Caroline.” I was a little taken back by the attitude. “I told you this the other day.” She said matter-of-factly. I would have remembered if she had told me she had a new boyfriend.

“No, no you didn’t.” I replied. I watched as she rolled her eyes. I heard her mutter under her breath as she took a seat at the kitchen table. “What happened between you and Tommy?” I carefully asked, afraid she would bite my head off again. I took a seat adjacent to her, watching as she avoided eye contact. “You guys seemed pretty hot and heavy a couple weeks ag-“

“He cheated on me with some whore.” She exclaimed. “I caught them together last week, fucking asshole.” I could see tears start to pool in her eyes. I instantly placed my cup down and reached for her. She didn’t even hesitate as she wrapped her arms around my waist, crying harder at this point. Mac was the type of girl who acted as if she had a heart of stone, not caring about breakups. She would play it cool but in private would fall apart.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. I felt her start to pull away, wiping away the stray tears that were still falling. She looked up at me and shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s whatever.” She sniffed. She began to get up, drinking the rest of the coffee that I had forgotten about. “I’ll talk you later.” She made her way to the door and showed herself out. She didn’t even bother to say goodbye or anything. It was as if she was suddenly upset with me as well. It’s not like I knew about Tommy being with another girl. If I knew he was with another girl, I would defiantly let Mac know. I just hope she knows that…

“Where are we going?”

I looked over at Nikki as he sped down the highway. After my morning with Mac, I had been feeling a bit down. I tried to call her but she didn’t answer. I felt like driving over to her apartment but I decided not to. Maybe she just needed some time to calm down and get over what she was going through with Tommy. She knew that if she needed me, I would be there in a matter of minutes. I was moping on the couch watching the Brady Bunch when Nikki arrived. I didn’t even get to ask him what was going on with Tommy. He quickly rushed us out of my apartment, practically pulling me down the steps. I had no idea where we were going but a smile was plastered across his face during the drive.

“Nikki?” I exclaimed. He glanced over at me, the smile getting bigger. “Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?”

He pulled his sunglasses into his hair, “It’s a surprise.” I let out a sigh. “You’re gonna love it, babe.” He tried to assure me. I just sunk deeper into the seat, watching as the scenery passed by. All the houses that we passed were pretty big, bigger than I’ve ever seen. It looked to be a very upscale neighborhood, the kind you see on Dynasty or Dallas. I was in such an awe of the neighborhood that I didn’t realize that car was slowing. Nikki slowly drove up a secluded driveway, covered by manicured bushes and trees. Once at the top, a beautiful dark, brick house faced us. I couldn’t help but admire the house. It was absolutely beautiful! “Wow.” I breathed out. I felt Nikki shut the car off, silence filling the vehicle.

“What do you think?” He asked. 


I couldn’t take my eyes off the place, “It’s beautiful.” I could hear him laugh as he opened the driver side door and stepped out. I followed his lead and stumbled out of the passenger side. The late summer sun cast a glow across the house, making it look even more magical. I felt like I was standing in front of Cinderella’s Castle at Disney World. Nikki slowly made his way over to me, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Who lives here?” I looked up at him. The owner of this house was probably some record producer guy or someone in the entertainment industry that Nikki knew.

“We do.” He simply stated.

It took me a minute to register what he had said. I immediately pulled away from him, “What?” I asked.

He looked at me amused, “Welcome home, baby.” He spread his arms out wide, the same massive smile painted on his face. I continued to stare at him as if he had three heads. He stepped closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck.

“You wanna go in and christen the place?” He whispered, his lips meeting my neck. My pulse sped up, quickly falling for his trick. “I wanna fuck you so bad right now.” My brain regained control from my body, bringing me back to reality. I pushed Nikki away and took a couple steps back. “What’s the matter?” Nikki looked concerned.

“Why-“ I stopped, trying to find my words. “I can’t believe you did this, Nikki.” I let out a sigh. “Are you crazy or something?” A smile found its way back to his face.

“I’m crazy for you, sweetheart.” He purred, trying to pull my body back into his. I pushed him away, a bit harder than necessary. “What’s your fucking problem, Caroline!” He yelled.

“What makes you think that I’m ready to move in with you? We’ve only been dating for a couple months, that doesn’t mean I’m ready to move in with you, Nikki.” I yelled back. “You don’t move in with someone until you’ve been with them for more than a year or two, not two months.” He rolled his eyes, taking a cigarette out, lighting the end of the stick. “It’s like you don’t think about these things, Nikki.”

I watched as he puffed away on the cigarette, staring down at the ground instead of at me. His whole body was rigid and I knew that he was mad. “You’re so fucking ungrateful, Caroline.” He chuckled darkly. I’m usually a pretty calm person, not argumentative at all, but his statement lit a fire under me.

“Excuse me?” I questioned. “You’re seriously calling me ungrateful because I won’t move in with you? I’m not the one who told you to buy this house.”

I watched as he rolled his eyes, throwing down his cigarette. “I bought the house for you, Caroline. I bought it so we could live together because I fucking love you!” He yelled the last part. “I don’t want to drive through the valley after being on the road for god-knows how long just to see you. I want you to be in this house and this house only.”

I continued to stare at him, the words “being on the road” rolling through my brain. “You’re going on tour?”

He nodded his head, “Yeah. Ozzy Osborne asked us to tour with him for a bit.” I looked up at him confused. I had no idea who this Ozzy Osborne person was. “Don’t tell me you don’t know who fucking Ozzy Osborne is?” He raised his voice annoyed. I just looked back to the ground, giving him my answer. He should have known I wouldn’t know who this person or band was. I explained to him multiple times that I didn’t grow up listening to the same music as he did. I never heard of half the people he would tell me about.

“God dammit, Caroline.”  Nikki ran his hands through his hair. “You’re so fucking dense sometimes.”

I could feel tears start to form in my eyes as his words sunk in. “I’m sorry that I’m not educated in the world of rock and roll like you are, Nikki.” I spoke. “We all can’t be rock stars that get to tour around with some rock and roll God that you’re portraying this Ozzy guy to be. Some of us have practical jobs and lives that need to be lived. We all can’t be living in fantasy land.” I shot back. It was as if my mouth took control and everything that I wanted to say at that moment just spilled out.

Nikki stayed silent for a moment, a smirk forming on his face. I watched as he slowly walked toward me, pinning me against his new Camaro. He bent down, his lips brushing against my ear, “The fantasy land that I’m living in-” He paused. “Bought you this fucking house, darling.” He whispered, causing goosebumps to erupt all over. I felt his body push into mine as his arm wrapped around my waist. His lips placed light kisses behind my ear as his fingers travelled to the hem of my dress. “Nikki, please.” I tried to push him away, trying to resist the temptation.

“Please, what?” His teeth pulled at my earlobe, causing the air to leave my body.  He was doing what he did best; he was using sex to make me forget about the argument we just had. He was pulling me in, trying to convince me it was okay to move in with him so short in our relationship. Any other girl probably would have just given in and let him drag them into the house and allow him to have his way with them. Any other girl would have been ecstatic to hear that their rock star boyfriend, who’s fame was rising every day, bought them a gorgeous home to live in. Any other girl would not care that the so-called rocker boyfriend’s attitude was changing day by day, never knowing which version of Nikki was going to show up. I guess you could say I was unlike the other girls out in the world who would do anything to have Nikki Sixx buying them houses and pinning them against expensive vehicles.

“Please get off me.” I muttered, pushing him away again. I watched as his eyes went wild, the same pissed off expression from before finding it’s place once again. “Just take me home, please.” I asked defeated. Nikki stood there for a moment, not saying a word, before rolling his eyes and stalking towards the car. I watched as he ripped open the driver’s door, getting in, and starting the engine. I let out a sigh, following in his direction.

The whole car ride was awkward and silent, neither one of us willing to talk to the other. I could feel the tension rising off Nikki as he tore through the canyons and curvy roads. I eventually told him to slow down, only making him go faster in annoyance. Once he pulled up to my apartment complex, I ripped off the seatbelt and exited the car. I didn’t bother to say goodbye or even turn to look back. Nikki must have felt the same seeing as once the passenger side door was closed, he sped off like some kind of maniac.

Once I was inside of my apartment, I threw myself on the bed and started to cry. I cried because I was so frustrated with Nikki. I cried because I was frustrated with myself. I also cried because I didn’t know if this would be the end of Nikki and I’s relationship….

@ithinkimhardcore @triplehaitches @sighsophiia @lauravic @primal-screamer @divaanya @theabductionofpersephone @queen-introvert @jonesie32 @fandomshit6000 @unknownoblivion @haileynicoleseavey17 @knockemdeadgirl

[punkscowardschampions]

Fearghal & Kaitlin

Fearghal: [So the setup is sending her a postcard pretending to be a mate visiting in England for whatever reason (could be fam you get the vibe, nothing suspect given the time this is) but giving enough info that she 1. Knows it is him 2. has the number of at least a phonebox nearby if not a phone in his care home 3. a time when he plans to first call the phonebox nearest their home in Ireland, assumedly this is some sneaky twin shit they've pulled similar enough before that she can catch on without any of the rest of the fam also doing so; only question is how long do we want it to be since he left?] Kaitlin: [3 months ish later then and they've turned 15 but only just for our ref how do we think the situation is with his dad etc like would he just be acting like he's dead cos is to him?] Fearghal: [basically my vibe was they wanted to weaponize Tabby killing herself for their gain, like make it something political even though literally not about that bar the fact her family and his family and co didn't want them together and she was a dramatic teenage girl in love (no offense but like) and so when he wouldn't go along with that there was a massive fight, actual, between him and his dad and then Fearghal left 'cos there's never any option but to do as your told with this fam and he can't lose face with all the other people etc etc and the story the dad is telling the fam etc is that Fearghal deserted them which not untrue but yeah, good enough for all the olders to disown him too so it'd be like we don't talk about him and if someone else bring him up you denounce him] Kaitlin: [let's say there's a crying baby in the background cos like in my OG post she can use her youngest sister needing fresh air as an excuse so casually left her outside the phonebox but might be able to hear her if she's going for it] Kaitlin: How ya Fearghal: K? Fuck's sake, you've not had a bastard, have ya? 's'not been that long, like Kaitlin: Catch yourself on! mind how ya ma was fit to drop, you eejit? well we're all lurred she had another girl who I'm hauling about as my cover, so I am Fearghal: [Laughs] Still easy to windup then [slight pause to take in that it's a girl and is here, like not the biggest shock but also literally no way of knowing at this time so] And go on, don't leave me in suspense, what name they burden the poor fucker with Kaitlin: [makes an unimpressed noise like fuck off] full of that good craic you are, bet the brits are buzzing to hear it. You ready? Niamh Roisin, it's a cracker, like [sighs] Fearghal: [laughs some more] Yeah, catch me on that most wanted list, obviously [makes a wincing noise like no] Christ, actually lost it fully then, has she? Made it longer than some but dunno if mentals get to heaven, haveta ask Father Quigley, like Kaitlin: [laughs herself] yeah yeah [makes like a idk noise] can you lose what you've never had? A good catholic'll find a way, to be sure, and she is that, our ma [makes a scornful noise at the mention of the priest as is standard for her] Fearghal: [makes a mm noise to agree] Suppose so, don't reckon much was said 'bout being good to 'em once you had 'em, so be alright [sighs] What have you been up to, then...How's it been Kaitlin: if it was she'd recite between the lines to keep us anyone's problem but hers, poor critter [sarcastic laugh because mum's getting no real sympathy] it could've been 3 days from when you went off for what's changed and not- [a long pause because everything's shit and we know it is] Fearghal: What's God if not top babysitter, eh? Cheaper than telly and who's giving money to the BBC [scoffs but cuts it short 'cos yep] And I'm fine too, you rude cow Kaitlin: and stand him next to our earthly da and he comes out lookin' class [chefs kiss noise] Hey now! [makes a fake noise of shock like she's appalled at the mention of the bbc] watch your profanity around me, dicko! [really long exaggerated sigh as a pisstake] a'course you are, land well anywhere, but hit me with your bars, it's no bother to hear how right I am Fearghal: If you can get him stand still long enough, like and you ain't a lad so no chance, babe [does pisstake wistful sigh] Forgot you needed protecting from the evils of this world, my apologies [coughs awkwardly then, stalling for time, fiddling with the phone in ways she can probably hear] Taking a bow as we speak, can't fit in here with me but the adoring fans are aplenty over this way, well more than there so fuck it, life's grand so it is Kaitlin: Wise up, boy, he only sways slightly of an evening on these ones lately so he does [but her voice is MAD because fuck being a girl in this fam] Did you now? Thank fuck my new lad has his uses then, like [takes a deep breath to try and calm down but exaggerates it for the pisstake because have to, god forbid they are serious rn] I went and saw your former biggest fan under that rock they've carved with protestant shite, no word on if life's grander for her now it's ended or if she's regretting she didn't send her prayers up saying she wanted another bite of the cherry, one that wasn't yours- [stops like I've probably gone a bit far here and shouldn't mention his dead ex anymore] Fearghal: Good for him [through gritted teeth like let's never talk about him thank you] Like you need a replacement protector, got how many ready and willing at home, just DYING to beat the shit out of some 15 year old kid for your honour and just for the craic of it [does it back, like and then is silent until the pips are going but he's still there 'cos they stop when he puts more money in] You'll be under some rock with Catholic shite if they catch you in their graveyard [says it much more quietly than he's said the rest] Kaitlin: [makes a noise of disgust that doesn't need to be exaggerated for the pisstake cos genuinely horrified at this fam thanks] what honour? Shame you brought down on us with what they caught you at [but her voice is softer too because didn't mean to go off and also doesn't mean any of that we know] supposed to scare me, is it? [said like I wouldn't be here to give them a chance to do it just like you weren't] Fearghal: Why you need to ask one of the others, ain't it; can't be the best looking of the bunch and the best behaved, got to leave something for 'em to do and impressing n pleasing him 's'never been high on my to-do so have at it, lads [does meh noise like this is all so casual] Called the fear of God for a reason, aye Kaitlin: [does the meh noise back and it's her turn to awkwardly fiddle with the phone/cough while she works up to saying what she does next, more quietly than she has anything else] how's it truly then? Away and everything. Free and clear Fearghal: It's, like- just shit because you realize that everything that happens in that fucking town, all the stuff that rules our lives and is all they give a shit about, no other cunt does, you know, Kait? Sure, its on the news when another bomb goes off or don't and that; but the English don't even have to think about it, their day to day ain't affected at all, no fucker but our lot cares and what's the point, honestly? Everything we were forced to at least think was important, if not fecking stupid, ain't and now I don't- [Stops to do some actual breathing to calm down] Not to mention I'm thick as shite, thanks for that and all- 'cos frees a bloody joke [laughs bitterly] I get by, now, got a place to stay so, don't haveta worry but don't be hopping the next ferry yourself, girl Kaitlin: [when you're just silent for ages because as much as you think it's bullshit you're basically in a cult rn with no chance of getting out so what can you say like] not that thick, warning me off coming to keep an eye on all these english girls with theirs on ya but no bother 'cause mind I get sea sick and class as boking on brits sounds I'd get fairly covered myself before I made any casualties of 'em Fearghal: Know enough about girls and enough about you to know the two don't need mixing, that's just school of life, that [moving away a bit and telling someone who's impatiently waiting to fuck off] Stay put [when you say it firmly like serious voice] That wain and the rest needs someone VAGUELY sane about to stand any chance, fuck me, Aislinn's already been corrupted and she's barely in double digits [kicks the box] Kaitlin: [laughs because yeah don't let her around any girls you like babe] you should know enough about me to know what giving me your orders'll do fer ya and what it'll make me do [but there's no actual real threat in it we all know she's staying for the bubs] Sane as you by that count, ain't I? [can't help genuinely sighing] Mammy's girl is Aislinn been like it since she was old enough to play house [grimaces at the thought cos never that bitch] got the rest under MY apron strings, grand they are and it goes for the stories I tell 'em every night after prayers, rest easy yourself knowing that, yeah? Fearghal: Alright, alright [hear the 🙄😏] But if you wanna be the next to bring shame on 'em, you can do better than a cheeky abortion, surely? [shakes his head] Yeah. [Pause] Yeah [Coughs again] I'm doing my bit, swear, it's gonna take a while 'til I can send you anything and I've got to work out how when I do- it ain't for them, just you lot but like I said, not cheap Kaitlin: [an outraged noise like who do you think you're talking to, of course I can do better than that etc] Yeah. [Pauses herself because again what to say, there's so much it's too much] I've got faith in the right shite, Gally [nickname ftw because feels] it'll work out. We'll work it out, like we did this Fearghal: 'Course we will, K. No other choice, is there [definitely not a question] Kaitlin: not a real question, is it? [she knows its not] Fearghal: you want me to ask you one? Kaitlin: do English girls fall for that? Fearghal: Enough of 'em, yeah Kaitlin: [makes a ugh noise] how you've got a bed, is it? Fearghal: Theirs top where mine is Kaitlin: I deeply feel that Fearghal: [makes the kinda sad 'ha' sound like 'I know'] Not all bad though, some class drugs about and you don't get kneecapped for taking a casual interest Kaitlin: [does a little hooray down the phone] Fearghal: Send you some but your phones probably tapped so I definitely won't Kaitlin: thanks or no thanks, depending who'll be listening Fearghal: Cover those bases and the baby's ears Kaitlin: nothing to be heard over her crying Fearghal: don't lie, you miss me that much [laughs] Kaitlin: fuck off [but laughs too] Fearghal: Will do Fearghal: so many English girls Kaitlin: [exaggerated being sick noise] nowhere close to a ferry and sick as a dog, don't start me any further Fearghal: You think I escaped to pray every day and fight the good fight, like Kaitlin: if you still pray you ain't escaped fuck all Fearghal: Not living on my knees for no cunt, sis Fearghal: am being haunted, for my sins, though Kaitlin: Be on track to commit more, you'll have enough ghosts for all manner of shite to get done Fearghal: No rest for the wicked on the one hand, but on the other, idle hands and idle minds [breathes out like so conflicted and confused] Kaitlin: [a change in tone because serious] She's gone, so are you. Leave it here. Leave it in this fucking town Fearghal: Not a choice Kaitlin: Can be Fearghal: Nah, s'not, boths already happened Kaitlin: Happened to you, gives you a say in how you deal with it Fearghal: Yeah Kaitlin: You've lived in one haunted house as things stand, ain't you? Miss home that much, is it? Fearghal: How could I not? Live for these lectures, like Kaitlin: [an unamused noise because you're basically calling her a nagging girl which ain't a mood] Fearghal: [the pips again] Oh shit, should robably let you go, yeah? Kaitlin: Yeah probably [but she obvs doesn't wanna that'd be clear] Fearghal: Tell the kids I miss 'em, won't ya Kaitlin: I'll even include her out there Fearghal: Try and send a picture some time, alright Kaitlin: 'Course Fearghal: You too, kid Kaitlin: [laughs but in a more genuine way] You're my twin brother, calling me kid is calling yourself a wain, you eejit Fearghal: That's alright by me, like Kaitlin: I'll not baby you, got enough noses and arses to wipe here while you're hand holding these brits Fearghal: No handholding, on me life, just good old-fashioned- [will cut him off before he can be gross] Kaitlin: [we can say she cuts him off with a very unamused noise as per like no thank you] Fearghal: G'wan then, piss off before that kid freezes to death Kaitlin: [doesn't wanna be the first one to hang up obvs] Watch yourself then Fearghal: You too Fearghal: When can we do this again then Kaitlin: When can you? It's no bother for me to slip out with this ginger whinger, needs fresh air so she does Fearghal: [laughs then is pondering like umm] Try next Sunday, after church, if I don't answer then I'll send another postcard or whatever, yeah Kaitlin: Tryin' to get a free sermon told to ya, respect that hustle if not the message Fearghal: Obviously, how am I getting to heaven from England? Kaitlin: [laughs] no angels in England is there not? You'll have been thinking on your feet for fresh pick up lines all these months, no wonder you ain't had time for me, like Fearghal: Something like that... [Trails off 'cos don't wanna tell her what's really been going on but also does 'cos not its like that and its been a lot to just deal with on his own] Kaitlin: But it's something else like what? [cos sees through you boyyy] Fearghal: It's alright now, like Fearghal: but it ain't as if the old man sent me on me way with anywhere to go, is it Kaitlin: He didn't put a bullet in your head as a send off, that's what gets me to sleep of a night, but- [trails off because she was gonna say she knows it hasn't been easy but she doesn't know how hard it's been and she's not trying to guess like let's compare struggles] Kaitlin: Yeah [another pause] Fearghal: Should've put one in his [so under his breath it's like did you mean that to be heard or] Kaitlin: You'd have to take ma out an' all, I don't reckon the broken heart myth is anything other than another story, and probably a few of us would make the cut for cute little orphans but you and me'd have to catch ourselves on quick and wise up Fearghal: Make Tara look after you all as well as Diarmaid's kids, see how committed to the family she really is [sniffs 'cos we been knew] Kaitlin: [makes an identical sound cos twinning] I'll take her out if she was bothered to try and get near 'em Fearghal: Least Owie is old enough to help out, young enough to give a clout, yeah? [genuine concern] Kaitlin: [scoffs because we know he's a bit of a knob but it's still affectionate because] Fearghal: He'll be alright [but doesn't sound as reassuring as that's meant to be 'cos like unlikely at this point] Kaitlin: He's got me, my will's stronger than god's so father Q likes to say [laughs] under his breath, a'course Fearghal: [laughs back but its less 'cos sad] He doesn't always chat shite Kaitlin: Reckon he's a soft spot for me Fearghal: [makes noise like 'hopefully not too soft' but is joking, doesn't need to be that kind of priest] Kaitlin: I don't wish you were here Fearghal: How could he not, with the charm [but just jk like] Is it better, in some ways Kaitlin: It's...[trails off cos we all know even if there's less hassle it's not better as far as she's concerned and the loneliness is a real mood] I'm buzzing you got out [genuine but her voice is sad] Fearghal: Your turn next, I mean it Kaitlin: After we get a few birthday's under Niamh's belt [pauses because it's sinking in how stuck she is for now] and the rest, give 'em a fighting chance Fearghal: Yeah Fearghal: I'll make it easier, any which way I can Kaitlin: Me too, for you, I mean Fearghal: I'm grand, honest but cheers [more pips] I am outta shrapnel though so- Kaitlin: Don't be putting honest on a lie [frustrated sigh because nobody wants this to end but she wouldn't have money] speak Sunday and like I said, watch yourself Fearghal: Love ya, K ['cos no time to take the piss for it or protest] Kaitlin: [let's say she gets cut off before she can say it back for the pain]

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Boy in Luv

Oneshot based on this request

Yoongi x reader

Warnings: reader as 8th member, strong language, bit of angst, bit of fluff. You knooowwww the usual fun stuff from me lol

A/n: Alrighty so this was written as gender neutrally as I could possibly make it, just to sort of experiment once again with the idea. It was waayyy harder this time around than the last one for whatever reason...probably because I put a lot of my own personality into the reader character. So yea, the internal monologue? Totes something I would be thinking in x situation rofl. Anyway,  I hope you guys like it. If you do drop a like or a comment or reblog to share with your friends. Please do because I just love the feedback and it lets me know you guys enjoy my stories as much as I do~

It was supposed to be simple. Hobi’s dance break just before my intro verse, and just before I start rapping I was supposed to do a front flip over him and that would segue us  into my verse. Simple right?

Of course it was simple. I’d done it dozens of times before.

So…”Could somebody explain to me why y/n is sitting here with a fractured ankle?” Bang PD-nim...is not happy. I stared down at the cast encasing the entire lower half of my leg, from mid calf  right on down to immobilize the ankle.

Shame burned in my cheeks and I couldn’t even meet his furious gaze. “I’m sorry Boss.” My voice came out at a bare whisper but I knew he’d heard me. He hears everything. That’s why he’s the boss.

He sighed, coming over to sit beside me and pat me gently on the shoulder. “I know you are. And I don’t blame you. You couldn’t have known they’d spilled wax in that one particular spot that you just so happened to have flipped onto. But somebody should have known. Somebody should have warned you all before practice.” He pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve some of the headache I could tell was already forming.

“Better a fractured ankle than a broken neck huh?” I attempted to play the situation off with a bit of humor, flashing Mister Boss Man with one of my signature sweet smiles and it seemed to work.

His shoulders relaxed and he huffed out a chuckle “Well you’re not wrong. Alright…” he nodded, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention as he stood. “Jungkook-ah. Have you and Jimin-ah gotten that hat trick down?”

Jimin and Jungkook’s eyes both widened as they realized what was being asked of them.

“Wait...you...you want me??” Jimin pointed at himself, just about on the verge of tears.

“Oh come on Jiminie.” I pipped in, knowing exactly what the issue was. “You’re the one who helped me perfect the flip. Don’t tell me you’re afraid to jump over Hobi are you?” I smirked, a teasing lilt to my voice now. “Or are you not man enough to do something that little old me can do?”

Oh that did it. A fire blazed in Jimin’s eyes as he stood up straight, saluting Bang PD-nim. “We can do it Sir. Don’t worry we’ll take y/n’s place.”

The boss chuckled, waving him off. “It’s just for the promo and music video. Once y/n’s ankle is healed the choreo is going back to the way it was before. Now go get cleaned up, we’ve got an episode of Rookie King to film.”

The group groaned, though good naturedly of course. We love filming the little videos for ARMY, but the boys loved giving Bang Pd-nim a hard time even more. And so the complaints filled the room, ranging from exaggerated exhaustion to crippling feigned hunger, though for the bottomless pit that was our Golden Maknae the hunger was more than likely very real.

“Ya! Children!” Bang PD-nim shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If I knew working with you all would mean becoming a father in everything but name alone I’d have opened a flower shop instead.”

I pouted, tugging at his sleeve and giving him my most pitiful face. “You don’t mean that do you Poppa Nimmy?”

He cringed, shivering before giving off a booming laugh that filled the room. “Alright that’s enough.” He said, pretending to wipe a tear away. “Jungkook-ah, make sure once you’ve showered to get y/n back to the dorms. Namjoon-ah and Hoseok-ah make sure to check in with the producers, I think they wanted to talk to you both about one of the tracks.”

The boys nodded and began to disperse, going to their respective tasks or heading back to the dorms for their showers. Since I knew it would be a bit before Kookie came back to help me back upstairs I decided to scroll through my phone, going straight to fancafe to check on how ARMY was doing.

As I scrolled through the comments on the latest selfie on my profile, someone walked up to stand over me. Their shadow cast over the screen of my phone and when I looked up my heart skipped several beats and left me breathless.

“Do you need anything?” Yoongi’s gaze was intense as he stared down at me. My cheeks blazed so intensely with heat that I immediately ducked my head down to stare at my phone.

Nooo...this can’t happen right now. I can’t face him after fracturing my stupid ankle and crying like a little bitch baby because of it. I stared down at my phone, mentally reliving the look of horror he’d given me when he’d seen me laying on the ground, rapidly swelling ankle in hand.

There’s no way he could even halfway respect me after that… I can’t face him. Can’t talk to him. OMG please Yoongi leave before I start crying from shame again.

“Hey, spacecase. You still with me?”He crouched down before me, trying to catch a glimpse of my face. Quickly I shook my head, wiping at the tears that’d threatened to spill.

“Woah,hey don’t cry again. It’s alright there’s no shame in getting hurt.” He gently reached up and wiped the tears away.

Yoongi just touched my cheek….

HE TOUCHED ME!!!

Okay, seriously y/n play it cool or he’s gonna find out he’s affecting me and there’s no way I’m ever living that down.

“Sorry, I’m fine…” I sniffed and ducked my head out of his reach.

He frowned, sitting back on his heels and scanning my face. I flashed him a smile, trying hard to cover my embarrassment.

“I’m fine I promise, Opp...hyung. Go on, get your shower in before the show starts. Kookie will be back soon to take me to the dorm so don’t worry about me okay?”

Oh my god did I really almost call him Oppa? End me now universe, bury me beneath the building. Throw me in the trash where I belong.

He didn’t exactly look like he believed that I was alright, but being the sweetheart that he is he didn’t push the issue any farther.

“Alright. But if you need anything…”

“I know hyung, I’ll call if I need anything.”

He nodded and stood, sparing me one last worried glance before heading out.

30 minutes of waiting and a trip to the dorms on Jungkook’s back and I’m finally back at the dorms, snuggled safely into a pile of blankets on the living room sofa with my laptop in my lap and a giant macchiato from Starbucks that Hobi had so kindly gotten me.

“Those boys are the best.”I sighed,clicking open the video I’d last been watching. An episode of Rookie King that I’d missed out on a few weeks ago due to some interviews I’d had to go on.

“The winner is….Second Class! Bangtan’s Charming Guy Bachelor Jimin!”

“Ya! No fair Yoongi Oppa should have won that!!!” I shouted at the screen as Jimin stood up and took a bow. Shocked I quickly glanced around the room, just to make sure I was actually alone. Heavens forbid one of the guys actually heard that...I would never...in a million years….live that down.

***

“Hobi-ssi what are you up to?” Namjoon wandered over, sitting next to the younger man and leaning over to glance at his phone. The filming crew happened to be on a break and Hoseok had decided to check on their injured member to ensure y/n’s safety.

“Checking on y/n...what is even going on here?” Hoseok watched as the injured member seemed to be screaming at the poor innocent laptop screen. He had the volume muted on the security camera so wasn’t exactly sure what was being said, but the antics in themselves was definitely cause for hilarity.

“What’s going on is right...” Namjoon said, concern filling him as he pulled up the footage on his own phone in order to see the feed a bit clearer.

“That’s rude! Have some respect!!!”

“Did you manage to get the sound on?” Hoseok asked, leaning over to glance at Namjoon’s  phone screen.

“Yea, is that the rant episode y/n missed a few weeks ago?”Namjoon asked.

“I think so, sounds like it anyway.”

“What’s up?” Taehyung wandered over, having been drawn by the sound of yelling and the look of horror on Namjoon’s face.”Is that y/n yelling at a video?”

“It is, Jimin, Jungkook, Yoongi, come here you guys have got to see this.”

***

I grabbed my coffee, taking a sip from it as I watched the punishment unfold.

“Yasssss Hobi, work that lipstick boi.” I snickered, watching as Tae stared on in horror.

“Nah Tae Tae, it’s over, just accept your fate and let it happen boo. We all want this, you know you want this. Look at that smile. Ya’ll he so ready!”

Wincing I rubbed the cast on my leg, remembering  the look of horror on the guy’s faces as I lay on the ground crying in pain. I shook my head to clear the mental image away and focused back on the show.

***

“Ya! Y/n you traitor! I was severely traumatized by that!” Taehyung yelled, his indignation only further solidified by the kissy faces Hoseok made in his direction.

The group was crowded around Namjoon and Hoseok, staring at the phone screens in amusement as they watched the dramatic scene unfold before their eyes. They’d never seen this side of y/n. The normally quiet and shy member seemed so animated and happy watching the show in seeming peace and solitude.

Yoongi meanwhile had finally decided to wander over, having finished an over the phone discussion with one of their producers about conflicting vocals on one of their tracks.

“Hey hyung, look y/n’s talking about you!”

His eyes widened in curiosity as Jimin and Jungkook made room for him to be able to see the screen.

***

“No no no! VHope! Stay in your lane! I’m trying to stay loyal to Yoongi Oppa!” I squealed, burying my face into one of the couch cushions and squealing out a rush of giggles so intense  I’m pretty sure I teared up a little.

Grabbing my laptop before it fell to the floor I switched over to youtube, clicking open my saved playlist before taking another sip of coffee.

“Aiyoo, Oppa...where did it go?” I grinned in triumph before clicking open a compilation video of Yoongi’s savage moments.

“Yassss savage Daddy, slaayyy.”

***

Yoongi’s eyes widened at the audio coming from the phone’s tiny speakers.

“Did she just call hyung...Daddy?” Jungkook and Taehyung stared at each other in shock. The others were so busy clutching their guts and laughing that they’d been unable to hear anything other than their own mirth.

“Guys, come on shut it off.” Hoseok was the only one concerned with y/n’s privacy at this point as he tried to take the phones back from the younger boys.

“Oh no! No way! I’ve finally got dirt on y/n you are not taking this moment away from me.” Jungkook snagged Namjoon’s phone from him, setting it to record the screen before racing away. Namjoon chased after, threatening all types of bodily harm should anything happen to his phone.

Yoongi stood there, staring at the floor in concentration as he wondered how this new information affected him. Really? Y/n liked him?

And it seemed like more than a crush from the way y/n kept sighing and scrolling through pictures of them together, taken by fans during concerts and meet and greets. He’d never actually seen y/n in that sort of light, picturing them as just another member of the group for him to look after and keep out of trouble. But...how did he feel?

***

Three weeks later

***

I can’t believe they’re actually making me sit for the concert... The managers had said it would look worse if I actually missed it rather than sitting off to the side with my stupid cast and singing my lines along with the others.

The fans missed me apparently. And Jimin never failed to visit me to show off the well wishes and messages of love that our precious ARMY kept sending my way on the fan cafe. So yea...I guess I’m stuck in this stupid chair, my leg propped up on a cushion and I’m well out of the way of the boys so that they don’t trip over me or knock me off my perch during their choreography.

There were a few times were, looking out over the crowd and seeing all their smiling and hopeful faces where all I’d wanted was to disappear, the shame of my injury bothering me more than I wanted to let on to the other members.

I’d try to hide my tears,but one among them saw them, saw my shame, and though I didn’t notice, when there was a break in the songs or a skit had to be done, Yoongi was always right there by my side, trying to get me to smile or make sure I was included.

“Y/n!!! Y/n!!!! Y/n!!!!” ARMY is chanting my name.

My heart soars with joy as Jimin hands me my crutches. I limp to the main stage and Tae sets my chair down before helping me back into it. I smile my thanks but...something’s off…

I squint at him and he flashes me the most mischievous grin I think I’ve ever seen on his face.

“What are you boys up to?” I hiss to him, but he just shrugs and flounces off to stand beside Kookie.

“ARMY!” Namjoon shouts into his mic and the crowd screams in joy.

“So, we all know that our dear little y/n was injured a couple of weeks ago yea?” Hobi asks and everyone awws. There’s shouts of ‘Get better soon’ and ‘We still love you’ echoing through the air.

“Yes, yes we all know it’s such an awful thing that happened, and really, it’s given us some knew insight as to the personality of one of our favorite dancers.” Jin grins over at me.

“Ya! I thought I was your favorite dancer?” Jimin acts all hurt and the crowd laughs at his antics.

“Nah we all know y/n is the best dancer we’ve got. If it weren’t for y/n Bangtan wouldn’t be here don’t ya know.” Jungkook screeches as Hobi and Jimin both begin to chase him around the stage.

“Boys...boys that’s not the point.” Tae snags Jungkook around the neck, allowing Jimin and Hobi to smack his arm before returning to their places on stage.

“What exactly IS the point?” I ask into the mic, meeting Yoongi with a questioning gaze. His only answer is a shrug as he quickly looks away, but not before  I see the brush of blush dusting his cheeks.

“Well you see...our dorms are set up with security cameras…”

I think my heart just stopped…

No...wait...still beating…

I think…

There’s no way they actually caught me right?

“Oh but we did y/n and frankly, I’m hurt.” Jin clutches his chest in feigned pain.

Shit, did i say that out loud???

“Here I thought I would be your bias. I’m worldwide handsome!” Jin strikes a pose, his thumb and index finger forming a v beneath his chin while he flashes ARMY his signature smile.

“No way hyung, I should have been y/n’s bias. I’m the golden maknae!” Jungkook drops to the ground, pushing his lower body into the air before grinding down onto the stage and hopping back to his feet again.

“Guys omg what are you even talking about??” I huff out a nervous chuckle, my eyes dancing around the stage, looking from the crowd to the curtains that lead backstage, anything other than looking at Yoongi and risking giving myself away.

“Can we like...talk about ANYTHING else???”

“No no we have to discuss!” Tae jumps in, wrapping an arm around me and grinning out at the audience.

“You see ARMY. Y/n has been hiding a massive secret from all of us.”

“Yes yes! A secret!”  Jin dances around the stage, hooking his arm with Tae as they both shout, “Secret!Secret! Secret!”

“Guys please! I don’t have a secret!!!” I hide my face in my hands, the heat of embarrassment so strong I know for a fact that even the people in the back can probably feel it.

“Oh?” Namjoon quirks an eyebrow and waves to the giant screen behind us. “Then could you explain this?”

The screen flashes on, showing a still image of me sitting on the dorm sofa just a few short weeks ago, laptop open and a picture of Yoongi clearly shown on the screen.

“Oh...god...end me now…” I try to get up from the chair but Jimin and Hobi trap me, standing to either side of me with a firm hand on each of my shoulders.

“Hyung! Is that you?” Hobi glances over his shoulder to Yoongi, who shyly nods but is refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“This isn’t fair! Why did it have to be Yoongi hyung??” Tae demands, walking past in front of me and dramatically sighing.

“Why wouldn’t it be Yoongi hyung? He’s dashing and cool and all around he makes such a great…” Namjoon nods to the video and it begins to play.

“Oppa!” The sound of my squealing voice echoes through the room and all chaos breaks loose.

ARMY echoing the word and cheering and screaming that they ship it, they approve. There’s a ship name already?? What even has my life come to.

I want to melt into the floor, disappear like mist in the morning sun. There’s a ringing in my ears so loud it almost drowns out the next words that I hear.

“You know...I kind of like it…”

“What was that Yoongi-hyung?” Hobi steps aside, allowing Yoongi to move closer before staring shyly at the ground.

“I said…” He looks up, finally meeting my eyes. His gaze is focused solely on me and it’s so intense that I can’t look away. There is no ARMY. There is no Bangtan. Only us in this moment.

“I kind of like the sound of y/n-gi….It’s got a nice ring to it.”

[headfirstintothefallout-blog]

Episode One

Enter; Headfirst, into the Fallout!

[An introductory episode setting the story for our sole survivor.]

    There’s something to be said about the symphony of unbridled rage and fear that sprouts from within the soul as your stomach doubles over and knots itself, blood filling your ears with a cacophony of hissing static, throat clenching like a vice as your vision starts to become spotted. An onslaught of memories clamoring to be at the forefront of your mind as if they had missed their cue when the symphony started and were now trying to steal the limelight of the stage as you try in desperation to piece together each specific part of the events that had already unfolded, recording everything in detail to tell if you were blind to it all or if you could never have known, to begin with. Everything else seems to slow down to an insufferable pace, nearly taunting as the world snaps into sharper focus. Questions brandishing torches and burning down the curtains of the theater and setting your mind ablaze with shrieks of anguish and terror, demanding recompense by way of answers but fearing what they may hear as a result. Nails biting into the flesh of your palm, the body’s way of bringing the mind out of itself, the digging pain nearly a comfort; sending a rigid chill throughout your bloodstream and with it, an electricity that threatens to strike down any who stand before you. Copper on the tongue, a bitter taste that drags acknowledgment out of its preoccupied state, the rage has set into a growing crescendo through clenched teeth.      I wish I could say I wasn’t familiar with this song, but truth be told, it was one I had sung many times in my life before. Even now, as my fists slammed against the glass of the cryo-chamber I had been encased in; staring towards the slumped over figure in the pod across from mine, I found the song tearing through me. A scream erupted from my throat but cracked half way through from lack of use, hot tears threatened to fall freely from my eyes but the anger welling inside pushed them back with reminders that there may be hope yet. The lid clicked and I scrambled against it, trying to speed up the process. Panic had me fumbling and as the lid lifted, I fell through and collapsed on the ground in a heap. The pain hardly registered with me, my body was too cold and my heart was beating wildly against my ribcage, urging me forward. My breaths came through in ragged intervals as my eyes flicked up towards Nate’s pod.    Gods....please let him be okay.    A violent cough sputtered its way out of my mouth and I hissed, clenching my eyes shut as I half crawled toward the pod. My shaking hands clambering for a button, a switch, something! There had to be something, some way to open up the damn pod...I bit my lip and slowly rose to my feet, slamming a fist against the controls. I gripped the edge of it, tears threatening once again as I dared to steal a glance at Nate. He hadn’t moved. Hope was dwindling like the dying remnants of a fire.        Fire...memories flashed in my mind of a campfire, the smell of burning wood wafting upwards and with it, floating embers that illuminated the air within the trailing smoke. Nate’s wide grin and bright eyes as he laughed, the sound sparking a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the fire. “Oh come on, that can’t be your biggest fear. You, Miss headstrong soldier girl who isn’t even afraid to look death in the eye, are afraid of a gurgling, giggling, drooling, baby?”     My cheeks flushed red and I cast my vision elsewhere, my hand resting on my swelling belly as a wry smirk tugged at the corner of my lips ever so slightly. “I’m not afraid of the kid, or even the idea of having a kid....it’s more like...I’m afraid I can’t be a good mother. You know? I’m afraid that I won’t be able to love him like I should or care for him like a mom should or....protect him.”    Nate’s hand found my chin and lightly guided my face to meet his attention, his thumb rubbing my cheek gently as he stared at me with a soft smile. “You’re going to be a great mother. I know you are. You are going to love him because he is the embodiment of us, our love.” He shrugged playfully and dropped his hand, tilting his head up with a cocky grin. “I mean, you’ll probably freak out the first time he gets sick or falls over or something and we should probably get one of those Mr. Handy’s just so that you aren’t smothering the poor kid...but,”     He paused and drew his full attention back to me, his smile faded and his eyes genuine. “He will be resilient because he has your blood too. And for those times when you freak out or worry that you’re doing something wrong, you’ll have me there. I can protect you from yourself, just like I always have and you’ll protect us from everything else....but no matter what, we will do it together, because we are a team. We are a family. Always.”     A guttural sound escaped from inside me and I pounded my fist against the glass, hoping that maybe Nate would wake up and tell me that we were going to find who did this, that we were going to get Shaun back...together...that we were going to be a family again.     He didn’t move.    Tears started to fall but my mind refused to think about the what-ifs. I looked back at the controls, my eyes spotting a lever. I nearly tripped over myself as I pulled it, the sound of the Cryopod mechanics clicking their release drew out a breath I wasn’t aware I had been holding.      “Come on....C'mon, c’mon, c’mon....don’t you be dead, damn it.” My words were barely even a whisper as the lid slowly rose.      I rushed forward, a hand immediately going to Nate’s cheek as my vision blurred with more tears that I rapidly blinked away. “Nate? Nate, c’mon....don’t do this to me....don’t leave me here alone...Nate? Open your eyes, come on, open your eyes, I’m right here....I’m right here...please? Nate!” My voice shuddered and I shook him but he was limp with no signs of life. “No....no, no, no, no!”     I was screaming, I didn’t care who heard me, I didn’t care if that man came back, in fact...I wished he would, I wished he would so that I could kill him myself for taking the only things I had left in the world. My hand slipped from Nate’s face and clenched on to the stiff fabric of the vault suit he wore. I couldn’t stop the grotesque shrieks that emanated from me as I sobbed into his neck, hoping beyond hope that he would rest a hand on the back of my head and smooth my hair comfortingly.     But I knew better, I had seen people die before, I was in the war...I knew from the start that he was likely dead...but I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted so desperately to hear him laugh and call me silly because I was crying.    But he wouldn’t, he wasn’t going to, he was never going to do that again...I knew that. And sobbing into his lifeless shell wasn’t going to change that.     My hands loosened and I sluggishly stepped away from his body, tears still falling as I caught my breath. A gold glint caught my eye and drew my attention to his hand.    His wedding ring...    My throat clenched and nausea threatened to make a sudden appearance, my hand reached out to his without me realizing it and I slipped the ring from off his finger with some effort. I stared at it in the palm of my hand, remembering our wedding, the day I gave birth to Shaun, every date we went on before all that, the plans we made for Halloween, every breakdown I had that he consoled me through from PTSD and nightmares, the day that we came to the vault...the moment just as it was descending after passing all out neighbors who were shrieking and begging to be let into the vault....and then, the moment when the bomb fell. The wave that washed over us... Comforting Shaun before getting into the pod, smiling nervously at Nate, hoping that we’d somehow be able to make it through all this together...    I clenched my hand into a fist around it held it close to my heart as I looked up at his lifeless corpse, “I'll find who did this. And I'll get Shaun back. I promise."     Getting out of the vault proved to be a bit more of a task than getting into it, passing pods of long-dead neighbors and fighting off huge mutant cockroaches with a security baton and later, a 10mm pistol. There were moments where I was certain that I was going to start losing it, seeing skeletal remains of the workers and reading the logs on the terminals to try and gain some bearing...nothing quite made sense to me but it was clear that a lot of time had passed since we had first come here...that thought alone made me sick from unanswered questions and worry. Evidentally, we were never meant to live in the vault. We were meant to be part of some sick experiment. The reasoning was unclear but the thought alone made that song of anger start to hum in the back of my mind. I could find no trace of the man who killed Nate and took my son, I had no leads as I kept searching within the vault, somehow calm despite all that had happened.    Having nowhere else to turn, I made my way out of the vault, securing a pip-boy off a lone skeleton near the entrance that I had come through, what felt like maybe a few minutes or even hours earlier. It seemed to come in handy as I used to open the entrance, given the unknown state of the world, I figured I should keep the pip-boy permanently, in order to at least record anything I found and keep track of things while I hunt down whoever did this. I found myself rubbing Nate’s ring in my pocket as the vault platform slowly rose and I braced myself for whatever waited on the surface above. My anger present but dwindling into a controlled fire inside me.    It seemed like an eternity before I could finally see the surface again, the light was blinding and took me a few moments to adjust. Whatever I had been expecting, it could never have prepared me for what I saw. You never really think of the prospect of what the world will look like after a nuclear explosion. The trees, what were left of them, were charred or broken, their colorful leaves long since gone. The ground little more than a desert in comparison to what it used to be... and...Sanctuary. Houses lay in ruins or half collapsed into themselves, some proved to be still standing but as I looked out at it, a sick feeling twisted itself into my stomach.      I couldn’t go back there, not yet...I couldn’t go back to my home and face all the reminders that I had somehow failed to keep my family safe. The odds of Shaun just being at the house were astronomical given that I saw him be carted off by some woman and that man...they had come into the vault on purpose sure, but if they were smart enough to kill Nate in order to take Shaun, surely they were smart enough to leave the area entirely. No, I needed answers...and I wasn’t sure where to look, but I wasn’t quite ready to go back there just yet. U didn’t need to put myself through more of that pain. I had to keep it together, keep going, I had to...do...something! Anything! Anything other than pour over my failures and lament in my sorrow, thereby getting nothing accomplished aside from the world’s most pathetic pity party. There was an odd static coming in from the pip-boy that now adorned my wrist. A signal.    

   For a moment, I half debated even trying to tune into the frequency, but curiosity got the better of me...I would need to know the state of the world I was left in and maybe, just maybe, if I looked around, helped some people, I’d get some answers....at the very least, it was better then sitting in the shell of a home that promised little more than more heartbreak. I would return to Sanctuary someday, but that day was not today. 

                                         To Be Continued [A note: the upcoming stories of our Sole Survivor; Kaeshara Crowe, will deviate from the main storyline for a series of episodes. It should be noted that I am basing this off of one of my playthroughs with one of my oc’s...In which I have the mods ‘Tales from the Commonwealth’ and ‘Wild Wastelands’ along with a few others but those two will alter the storyline for Miss Crowe quite a bit. Companions will also be featured in the episodes to come and as this one was more of an introductory, expect much more in-depth episodes that dive into emotions, thoughts, actions, etc. in the future]

[octorabbit]

Fire and Fury

Fantasy AU

Pairing - Sheith

Rating - SFW (possibility of change in the future)

Summary - Childhood had been simpler, more innocent times. Times of playing make believe of valiant knights and horrifying monsters, times of laying in the grass and cloud gazing with friends, times of running freely through the village streets laughing and shouting at the top of you lungs. If only adulthood could be as simple.

A/N - When a new story idea comes and you need to actually get off your lazy arse and write it...fingers crossed that I can commit. Big shout out to my proof reader Den! Thank you for being patient and instigating half of the insanity that inspired me to write this. You can also find this on AO3, I thought I may as well post it here too

It was the sharp pain against his wrist that forced Shiro to drop his stick. "Oww! Keith, what was that for?!'

"I saw an opening and I took it." The younger said matter of factly as he swiped his own stick. The little runt seemed smug to get the one up on the 11 year old for once.

"Yeah, doesn't mean you actually have to hit me." Shiro said with a pout as he rubbed his injured wrist. Right on the bone too, ouch!

"You can't complain about that if you want to be in the royal guard."

Shiro just grumbled at the 9 year old as he goes to pick up his stick.

"Uttt!! You can't pick your sword up, I just cut off your hand!" Keith protested.

The only response Shiro gave was sticking out his tongue as he swapped his hand. "Alright, no mercy."

By the time Keith realized what he'd done, he screamed as Shiro charged towards him, barely able to deflect the strike.

---

"You and peaches I swear." Shiro huffs as he pulled Keith's sleeve to guide him through the bustling crowd. While the younger was just as eager to see the important guests who've come to grace their village, the fruit in Keith's arm were also a priority.

He was going to eat so.many.peaches.

Weaving and shoving their way past the eager adults and children, the duo managed to make their way to the front of the crowd that left them awestruck.

Right there, in the center of the crowd was King Alfor in all his glory shaking hands and chatting with the villiage head; surrounded by his infamous elite royal guards, and standing right beside him was a small girl who was none other than Princess Allura.

"I can't believe we're actually seeing the King and Princess of Altea, AND the Kings royal guards with our own two eyes!" Shiro said as he practically vibrated in excitement. Keith let out a high pitched noise in agreement, his blue eyes practically glittering and he took a bite out of one of his peaches.

The little Princess was looking around curiously, though made no attempt to leave her father's side. She eventually locked eyes with the boys, giving them both a cheerful smile and a wave.

Shiro chuckled as he waved back. "The Princess is kinda cute, huh?"

Keith hummed in response. "She has pretty eyes."

"Oooh does Keith have a crush?" Shiro teased.

"No, gross." The younger didn't even try to hide his face of disgust at Shiro's words.

"Keith's got a girlfriend, Keith's got a- OUCH!" Shiro cried out at the large pip pegged at his head.

"You're a jerk." Keith growled as his cheeks begun to turn pink and took a bite out of his second peach.

---

He just wanted to be alone.

No, that was a lie. He was so damn lonely it hurt, and everyone in the village had to keep reminding him of that fact.

Jaw and fists clenched and curled himself into a tighter ball at the situation running through his head. He had just blown up at the bakers wife who stopped by to give him some leftover bread with that same damn smile and speaking to him in that same obnoxious tone everyone else spoke to him.

They pitied him, he was just a charity case that people took care of to make themselves feel like good samaritans. 'Oh poor little orphan boy, what kind of parents would abandon their child?' They'd think as he was given what no one else wanted and leave him alone in the tiny house his father bought just weeks before disappearing.

He has been crying since he chased the bakers wife off, unable to contain the whirlwind of emotions that flooded through him, so when he heard a knock at the door, he couldn't help but jump.

"Hey Keith, you home?"

Oh Gods it's Shiro.

"C'mon buddy, I know you're in there. Why weren't you at practice?"

With a shakey breath Keith stood up and moved for the door, knowing full well Shiro won't leave, and he'd find out anyway. Gods he hated how persistent Shiro could be.

The second the door was open, the elder's slightly annoyed expression instantly warped to worry.

"Keith?... Hey Keith, what's wrong?" Shiro's voice cracked as he stepped closer.

Keith quickly stepped back, eyes darting to the ground, causing Shiro to cease his advances.

"Keith, please..."

Damn it all to hell the floodgates released again as tears streamed down his face without any signs of stopping. With another shuddery breath, Keith was finally able to look him in the eye, no mater how pathetic he looked.

"W-why.... W-why did dad leave m-m-me?" He finally choked out. Next thing he knew, he was in Shiro's arms as the elder held him close, a hand running through his dark hair soothingly.

"Shhh it's okay bud, it'll be okay. I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for it" Shiro said calmly as the boy in his arms lost what little control he had left and cried into his chest. He cried and cried and cried, and all Shiro did was stand there with sad eyes as he continued to comfort his friend.

By the time Keith finally calmed down to a hiccuping mess, Shiro finally pulled away, still keeping contact by rubbing the others scrawny arms.

"Feeling any better?" Shiro asked, genuinely concerned.

Keith nodded his head and gave a weak 'yeah' in response.

"Did you want to come over to my place? I'm sure mum and dad would be more than happy to have you over." Shiro offered, keeping his voice as gentle as possible.

Keith shook his head, no.

"...Did you want me to stay over?"

Keith was surprised by that offer and was unsure on how to answer.

"C'mon, it'll be great! I could whip us up a special recipe my grandpa taught me, you'll love it."

Keith finally caved, tense shoulders finally drooping "...O-okay."

"Just need to run home and get the ingredients and get my stuff. I'll be right back!"

Keith tensed up again at the idea of Shiro leaving. "W-wait!" He cried out, but it was too late. Shiro had already ran off.

The unbridled sense of abandonment bubbled up again and he couldn't tell if he wanted to cry from pain or scream in anger. Of course Shiro ran away, it was stupid to assume he wasn't like the others or actually cared, his own damn father didn't even want him.

Of course all those hateful feelings were flushed out with bewilderment and confusion once Shiro returned with a bag slung over his back and another full of food in his hands.

It took Shiro another round of comforting a hysterically crying boy, apologizing like crazy as the younger shed tears of relief, before he could settle in and start preparing dinner.

With full bellies and the strain of a full day's worth of strong fluctuating emotions finally crashing down, the boy's turned in for an early night. Shiro more than happy to let Keith cling onto him as they cuddled up in bed.

It was that day that Keith finally found someone he knew actually cared after years of feeling alone.

---

"Shiro!" BANG BANG "Shiro!"

Shiro opened his bleary eyes, head still foggy from sleep as he was interrupted by banging and shouting from his window. Dragging himself out of bed, he walked uncoordinatedly towards the window. Whatever the hell he was woken up for better be damn important.

No surprise Keith was the one making the racket. Whatever it was it must be something big for the 13 year old to look as manic as he was right now.

"Keith-" Shiro yawned as he undid the latch and opened his window. "Keith, what are you doing here, It's too early for practice." He managed to say as he failed to hold back another yawn.

"You're not going to believe what everyone in the village is talking about, like holy shit!" Keith said as he beated his hands against the sill enthusiastically.

"Language! So what's this so called unbelievable thing everyone is talking about?"

"Lord Zarkon betrayed King Alfor! Something really big must have happened because Zarkon's been banished from the kingdom!"

Well that was certainly a way to wake someone up.

"Are you serious? The Black Knight himself betrayed the King??" Shiro squawked in disbelief, cringing slightly as his voice cracked.

Keith nodded vigorously, seeming unable to contain his childlike excitement. "Yeah, it's all anyone is talking about."

"Oh wow." Was all that Shiro could push out. This new development had his mind reeling; Lord Zarkon, one of the Kings personal guard, the Black Knight that Shiro had looked up to since he was just a child had committed treason against the Altean Kingdom. "Keith, do you have any idea what this means?"

Keith only responded with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"It means that the new position for the Black Knight is open, and who knows how long that'll take. If I keep training and get accepted as an apprentice then maybe..." Shiro's chest swelled at the thought of becoming the prestigious Black Knight, being the leader of the Kings personal royal guard, being the brave hero he always dreamt of being.

Of course Keith had to ruin his fantasy as he bursted out laughing, snorting away like a little piggy.

"Oh yeah your perfect to be the Black Knight, especially with your weird gangly body and squeaky voice." The younger teased.

"Keith!!" Shiro growled before quickly slapped a hand over his mouth as his voice broke. Damn puberty had to prove the other right at the worst time.

Keith found himself in another fit of laughter, Shiro glared at him when he was grasping onto the window sill for support till he settled down and able to breathe properly.

"O-*snort* Okay I kid, I kid! Shiro, you're the best in the village; you almost never miss practice, you're teaching me and the others things we'd never learn if it wasn't for you, and remember the time you stopped that thief?"

"That was a collaborative effort between the both of us." Shiro interjected.

"Yeah, we stopped her and you were so cool! She didn't stand a chance when she tried to attack you. How many kids our age can say they took on a real criminal? There's no doubt you'll be accepted to get proper training to be a real knight, they'd be stupid not to."

The older couldn't help but feel embarrassed by all the things Keith was spouting "Jeez Keith, you have way too much faith in me."

"Someone's got to, I mean you're the only person in this damn place who has any faith in me so of course the feeling's mutual."

A smile stretched across Shiro's face at that. "Thanks Keith."

Keith returned the smile.

"Since you're here, I'm going to assume you're going to raid the fruit trees out back?"

"Do bears shit in the forest?"

Shiro snorted at the response. "Language. I think mum has taken all the ripe peaches to sell, but I think there's still plenty of mulberries to pick."

It took a moment for Shiro to notice Keith raced off at the mention of mulberries. With another snort, Shiro moved to go get a damp towel, fully aware Keith is going to look like he came out of a murder scene from being stained in berry juice. The kid had absolutely no impulse control.

---

"Oh my fucking gods!" Came a shriek as Keith threw his handmade spear that impaled a rabbit. The smaller boy didn't understand why Matt was so upset, he just scored the group some rabbit stew tonight.

The pair rushed over to their freshly caught game and Matt let out another distressed noise from his throat.

"Keith, the poor thing's still alive..."

Oh.

So it was.

For probably the 8th time in 5 minutes, Matt let out another shriek as the rabbit let out a squeal when Keith stomped on the little vermin's head. The older boy couldn't hold back his tears anymore

"Keith how could you!" Matt bawled

Keith just looked at him nonchalantly, completely oblivious on how much he was traumatizing his friend. "What? I just put it out of it's misery."

"You could have done it more humanely!"

"I did. I killed it quickly so it didn't have to suffer."

"You crushed it's head!"

Keith rolled his eyes "It going to be food soon enough. I don't know why you're complaining."

With a sniff, Matt just stared at Keith in disbelief. If he didn't know him personally, and that Shiro had the kid on the straight and narrow, he'd assume he was a sociopath.

With 3 rabbits in hand, the pair returned to their camp, no surprise to see the older two sitting by the fire, looking at the sky while Matt's father, Samuel, was pointing to different places while explaining stories and theories to Shiro. Of course Shiro was lapping up everything the man was saying.

"Hey boys, glad you're back!" Samuel chirped once he sighted the young teens. His smile faltered as he had a proper look at his son. "Matt, are you alright? You don't look well."

Matt groaned, "I don't feel well..."

"Let me guess, Keith got a little full on to what you're used to?" Shiro chuckled, only for Matt to give him a dirty look to confirm his comment and rant about his harrowing experience.

Of course Keith had tuned them out in favor of prepping dinner. Knife in hand, he begun cutting the pelt off the meat, followed by gutting, washing, and chopping the meat up into pieces with precision before plopping them into the pan next to the pot that was already boiling on the campfire.

"Oooh, looks like you got some big ones." Samuel commented as the youngest of the group sat next to him.

Keith just shrugged. "Pretty average really... What were you and Shiro talking about?"

"He was asking me about stories behind some of the constellations, he seems very intrigued by the stars."

"Doesn't surprise me." Keith said boredly, leaning to rest his head in his hand.

"It's really quite fascinating. If you look up now you can already see the Blue and Yellow stars of Voltron are already on show!"

Both Matt and Shiro seemed to stop whatever they were discussing to look up, Keith following shortly after to no surprise to see a bright blue and yellow star shining brightly and standing out from the sunset.

"You're not going to give us the same damn childs tale everyone else says about the Stars of Voltron are you?" Keith mumbled.

"Keith." Shiro warned.

Samuel laughed. "Well those stories have been embellished a bit. Most know the tale of the stars blessing the royal guards, which is only part true; only those worthy of being part of the kingdoms elite guard are chosen and it's because they were chosen that they are by the kings side."

Keith rolled his eyes, Matt seemed content, clearly been through many retellings of this story, and to no one's surprise Shiro seemed eager to hear more. With that Samuel continued.

"Each of those stars connect a tower, just follow the stars and they'll guide your way, but only those worthy and with permission from the royal family are able to enter and face the trials. Those who succeed the trials will meet the tower's patron lion goddess and will receive their blessing and give them incredible power."

"Let me guess, and those who fail die horribly." Keith stated.

With a snap of his fingers, Samuel pointed at him, "Bingo!"

"Have you ever seen the towers on your travels Mr Holt?" Shiro inquired.

"Sure have! I've only visited one which homes the Goddess of the Forests before Matt started joining me on my annual trips. It's a real shame I'll never get to see what it's like inside but just seeing the tower itself and knowing the stories behind it is breathtaking."

"Think I'll ever get to see one Dad?" Matt asked with an eager grin.

"I'm sure we could arrange something, but not this time. We need to reach the kingdom to deliver those important research notes."

Matt deflated at the answer, which made Keith snort in amusement. Moving up to check the pan, he shifted and poked at the now browning meat.

"Looks good... Shiro, mind cutting up the veggies?"

"Can do." Shiro answered as he pushed himself up to grab the sack of vegetables they had prepared for this little camping trip.

With his attention back to the pan, Keith gave it another shake to flip the chunks onto uncooked sides . If he was going to be stuck listening to silly fairy tales and myths, he may as well make the best damn meal to make sure the night wasn't completely miserable.

---

They both knew this day was coming, it was an inevitable fact of life. Shiro was a big boy and about to carve his own path to become a man, but one last trial stood in his way from persuing  his dreams.

That trial was Keith.

"Stop giving me that look, you're acting like I'm abandoning you." Shiro said as he looked up from his bag he was doing one last check to see if he had all his necessities and belongings.

Keith leaned against the doorway, arms folded against his chest and unable to completely hide the bitter sadness from his face. "You kind of are...."

Shiro couldn't help a sigh from escaping as he folded a shirt. "You knew this was going to happen eventually Keith, I thought you'd be happy that I'm finally going to get proper training to become a real knight."

"I-I am happy for you, it's just...-" Keith drifted off, eyes darting to the ground as he tried to think of what to say before eventually huffing through his nose loudly. "I'm really happy for you, it's just going to take time to process knowing you'll be gone."

With another shirt folded, Shiro gave him a weak smile. "I know it's going to be hard for you but you'll be fine, it's not like I'll be gone forever. I'll be sure to send you letters as often as I can."

Keith was quiet, a tense silence fallen between them, before sighing heavily through his nose again. "I'm being selfish, I know that, but you...-" he trailed off again, this time looking Shiro dead in the eye, blue eyes glassy and full of emotions. Eventually Keith broke contact as he stopped leaning on the frame and stormed away, leaving a surprised and hurt Shiro.

"Wh- Keith!" Shiro cried out and he chased after him. "Keith, come back!"

It was too late, the younger boy was already gone, leaving Shiro at home alone.

He couldn't believe it; they had been best friends for so long, getting into crazy adventures together and always having each other's back. Was that it? Was Keith so cut up at the idea of Shiro leaving  that it too hard for him to bare?

There was no one to blame, Keith hasn't ever had it easy after being abandoned by both his parents. He knew that he was Keith's most important staple in his life, and it hurt him to think that him following his childhood dream is what broke them apart. There was nothing he could do except pack for his journey.

Sleep didn't come easy that night, he wanted to tell himself it was because of excitement, but he knew he was still hung up over Keith.

He left home before the sun had even risen. His parents were there to see him off, his father and little brother proud, and his mother weeping at the thought of her eldest son leaving home, but it was a warm, happy send off. He chose to walk his horse through the town towards the entrance of the village, he'd rather not wake everyone up with the sound of galloping. He had just reached the archway when he noticed a hooded figure resting against the stone walls of the arch.

The person seemed to have been zoned out, possibly asleep even, till they perked up and noticed Shiro's presence for which they jumped up to their feet and pulled back their hood.

"Shiro..."

"Keith?" He breathed and stopped in his footsteps, his horse jerking to a stop with a tug of the lead.

"I... I'm sorry for yesterday. It was selfish of me to not consider your feelings. I know how important this is to you." Keith flushed, unable to hide his awkwardness, which succeeded in pulling a smile from Shiro.

"It's alright Keith, I understand. I'm just so grateful you came to see me before I go."

"Are you kidding, as if I'd miss out on seeing you off." Keith said as he moved forward and extended his hand "Travel safe, and good luck with everything."

"Thanks Keith." Shiro extended his own hand to seal the handshake before pulling Keith forward and trapping him in a hug, hands still held together at their chests. He couldn't help but grin as Keith made a surprised grunt at the action. "I do plan to keep my promise of writing to you whenever i can."

Keith remained silent for a moment before he wrapped his free arm around him to reciprocate the hug and buried his face into the taller man's shoulder. "I know, I'll be sure to write back."

They stayed like that for a few more seconds before Shiro begrudgingly had to pull away. "I have to go now, hopefully we'll see each other soon."

"Yeah..."

"And this means I'm leaving the village in your care. I better not hear that it's been burned down or been overrun by criminals."

"Please, I'll have this place running better now that you're gone." Keith snorted before they both broke into laughter.

Once they settled down Shiro gave Keith one last hard pat on the shoulder before walking through the archway, both waving each other off till Shiro mounted his horse and rode off.

Once out of sight, Keith visibly deflated, unable to keep smiling anymore as his best friend was now gone from his life. It hurt a lot knowing he was on his own again, but he was still happy for Shiro, he was going to achieve great things with his life.

Now he just needed to figure out what to do with his.

[worldsandcenturiesfunposting]

Trump’s Bad Day 3: The Kids Are All Wrong. Sad!

Within the deepest reaches of the White House in a room designated by a hastily scribbled sticky note as “The War Room”, the President himself sat alone. His face was illuminated only by the flickering of a desk television tuned into Fox News and his hands constantly fidgeting while he desperately tried to think of a way out of his latest predicament. 

It had not been a good couple of days for President 45. First, a group of liberals attacked his most loyal fanbase and while they got what was coming to them when one of his brave soldiers ran some of them over with a car, a bunch of cucks have shown themselves furious over the matter and started to attack his fans!

Following that, the fake news media actually wanted him to condemn the protesters as if they had done anything even in the slightest wrong. Wasn’t the left supposed to be the ones championing themselves as the advocates for tolerance and yet, here they were acting as if those tiki totting protesters are bad people for just disagreeing with them. Sad! 

For the last several days he had been pestered non stop by the media and peasants who demanded he respond to the event as if that were a job of the Presidency. Obama would have issued a statement condemning the attacks minutes after it happened and what these people don’t understand is that he isn’t Obama! He wants to undo everything Obama has done and if that means not responding to one rinky dink death, so be it!

Alas the brave warrior couldn’t keep up his defense for long. In a matter of days of being strongarmed by the media and people, he finally made his first press statement in months. He insists he was the most clever orator, if he knew what that word was, that the world has ever seen for his unparalleled wielding of words to turn the argument away from his supporters and to the counter protesters.  By using the most dishonest use of the “But both sides” argument since the pathetic attempts at shielding Islam whenever a cartoonist or apostate is killed, Trump managed shed some humanity onto the card carrying neo-nazis who proudly saluted him and have shown the world what real Trump supporters look like and the might they carry. 

The absolute rush he felt during that speech must have been what Hitler himself felt when dictating his own rise to power. Granted, even people who absolutely hate Hitler would concede that the man was indeed a skilled orator, the subject of his speeches aside, while Trump is a bumbling idiot who can’t string together a coherent sentence to save his life...but what do they know? They’re a bunch of libcucks! 

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out as planned. Even though he made a speech just like they were all bitching about for days, they were still mad. It just goes to show you should never try to do what’s good for the country because they’re never be satisfied. Lobbyists on the other hand always praise him when he does things for their benefit. 

But even then he felt a shiver when thinking of those wonderful groups who only want even more money. The plans of repealing Obamacare have failed time and time again and now he has to sabotage it from the inside. That’s more work for him when he should be golfing and sniffing Ivanka’s underwear! Why won’t the poor just kill themselves so he doesn’t have to spend so much time trying to pass legislation that will do it slowly? 

At least Fox News was there to set the record straight. He enjoyed watching the bumbling automaton on the screen recite conservative talking points to defend him. Sometimes he saw a hint of humanity in their eyes where it seemed that the host was having trouble believing their own lies, but no, that was just the screen. 

Of course he couldn’t just sit down and watch Fox News all day like he could before. That fucker Robert Mueller’s investigation was closing in on his family now and he still wasn’t allowed to fire him. He promised Jeff Sessions that he’ll kill all the jews if he gets to fire Mueller but he only got some crap about “Having to follow the law on this one” as if Republicans or the rich ever cared about the rule of law. That’s for the poor people! 

In order to save his family, he’d need his family’s help. It’s not relying on others because they’re still Trumps and thus have his genes in them. Unfortunately, he isn’t shoving more of his genes into Ivanka at the moment but that will have to come later. 

Mere minutes after texting, Donald Trump Jr, Eric Trump, and Jared Kushner were in the room and waiting to receive orders. People say slapping around your kids doesn’t work, but it’s clear that these subordinates aren’t going to turn against him any time soon. 

“Alright boys, we need to find a way to get that fuck off our case. We have the best cases, believe me. When Putin looked at my case, who I didn’t visit or talk to, but when I went to him and told him to look at my case which was my hotels, he said it was the best and I believe everything he said because he can’t do no wrong, but I’m not friends him with, understand?” He pointed at Eric, “Jr, fucking fix this!”

“Daddy, I’m Eric!”

“I don’t fucking care, Kushner.”

“Uh, Father, I’m Kushner.” The farthest to the right pipped up. 

“I don’t give a shit, Billy, just figure out how to get Comey off my back.”

“Comey isn’t in the picture anymore, dad” Jr mentioned. “You fired him months ago. That’s why Mueller’s even here to begin with.”

“Do I look like I give a shit, Eric? Fucking fire Obama already!”

“Daddy, I’m Eric!”

“Did I ask you who you were, Barron?”

“I’m not Barron, daddy, I’m Eric!”

“Then where the fuck’s Barron?”

“He’s outside playing with his fidget spinner, father.” Kushner was getting tired of this. 

“Why the fuck is a ten year old playing with his penis?”

“Father, a fidget spinner isn’t-”

“THAT WAS MY FIDGET SPINNER! TELL HIM TO GIVE IT BACK, DADDY!” Eric was on the verge of tears. He hated his younger brother because the kid was always bullying him. 

“I don’t care who’s penis it was, damnit! If anyone’s penis should be played with, it’s mine anyways!” He slammed his tiny fists on the desk and immediately pointed to Kushner. “How the fuck do we get Mueller out of here! We’re going to end up in jail because of this and by we, I mean you because I’m not going to jail. I never get in trouble! I’m not in trouble but you are and I’m not because I don’t get in trouble!” 

“Have you been able to make any deals with anyone in the FBI? Someone could tamper with the evidence so it can’t be used against you, take the fall for it, and then you pardon him. Easy as that.” 

“Kushner, I make the best deals. Believe me. The best. Why when I made a deal to win the election and remove sanctions from Russia with Putin, he agreed it was the best. I never talked to him, but he knew it was the best deals. Not like Obama’s deals. His deals were bad. Bad deals. Sad! He didn’t make the best like I can. When I made a deal, it was-”

“Did you contact anyone in the FBI or not?”

“No. Why would I?”

“Oh my fucking God!” Kushner was ready to leave the room and see if he can’t fly down to Russia himself for help at this point. “Alright, father, what about the media. Can’t you get Bannon to get Brietbart to shame Mueller into submission?”

“Oh Bannon? I fired him earlier.”

“YOU WHAT?”

“Everyone was saying he was the president, Jr, but I’m the president. Me. Donald Trump, who I am and not Bannon, is the president which he isn’t. If he’s the president, why did he get fired? Only I can fire him because I’m the president so all of those cucks will have to admit that I’m the president.” Leaving over and tapping his forehead, he gave his son in law a creepy wink. “See, smart.”

“Wouldn’t Bannon be upset, dad?” Jr was now getting worried. Bannon had a lot of dirt on him and didn’t want it to get out.

“Well he did mention something about stringing us up like a bunch of niggers when he left but he was probably just playin, y’know? I have the loyal-ey-ist people out there. Everyone I hire, they know who’s the boss. They listen, believe me, they know I’m in charge.”

“So we don’t have anyone in the FBI and we don’t have a direct link to the media....”

“Sure we do, Eric! The Enquirer!”

“Daddy, I’m Eric!”

“Shut the fuck up, Tiffany. Anyways, I can get them to write articles about Mueller easy! Believe me, they write the best articles. That’s REAL NEWS! The real stuff. The best stuff. Why, when I tell them to write something, they know I’m right so they do it. Just like when Putin tells me to do something, but I don’t know him, but I do it anyways. The SAD! liberal media, they don’t have good journalists like the Enquirer. I’ll get them to write about how awful Mueller is and it’ll be done by tomorrow, believe me.”

Kushner was ready to faint. There’s a level of irony about the man complaining about fake news having ties to a publication that routinely publishes such tripe that only the non-Trump understood. Meanwhile Jr was deep in thought. 

“What if we release literally everything before the fake news can? That’s what I did with my meeting with the Russians and the New York Times were totally embarrassed because they couldn’t talk about it anymore!” 

“Jr, they ran the story anyways. It even meant that you couldn’t say it was fake news because you released it!”

“Sure I could, Kushner.” He tapped his forehead. “I’m smart, remember?”

Trump was pleased for the first time that night. “You see, Kushner, this is the kind of smarts the Trump family has to offer. Jr here, he has good genes. The best! Not like those blacks and jews.”

“Father, I’m Jewish. Remember?” Kushner stressed.

“AND I’M ERIC!”

“What the fuck do you think we should do?”

Eric reached to the floor and picked up a large crayon composed drawing. Various stick figures were situated in odd places among two vague masses of land. One was labeled “The Untied States” and the other “North Corea” which was succumbing to massive squiggly explosions. 

“What if we nuke North Korea to get them to stop bullying us? See, that one’s you.” He pointed to an orange stick figure called ‘Daddy’ on the page, “And there’s me. I’m Eric!” 

“Where am I, Eric?” Jr was looking around but couldn’t find himself. 

“I ran out of room on the America side so I put you on the North Korea side. See, there’s you there!” 

“Well fuck you too, bro.”

“I’m not bro, I’m Eric!”

“That idea sucks, Eric. I’m done with all of you losers. You kids couldn’t come up with a decent plan to save you lives. Sad! I’ve got to do it myself so I will. My plan, it’s the best. I already had it before you came it. I was testing you and you failed. Loser kids can’t make a good plan. Sad! So here’s what I’m going to do, because I’m smart, you see, the smartest ever like Putin said, he knew a smart man when he sees one. I’m first going to call someone in the FBI and tell them to destroy talks between me and Putin, then I’m going to call Bannon and tell him to report on how Mueller likes to watch underaged hookers pee on his bed, and then I’m gonna release literally everything between Putin and I but I don’t because as you can see, it was already destroyed. Finally, I’ll nuke North Korea and then people still stop talking about the fake news and start talking about how presidential I am. I’m the most presidential person ever. Well, after Lincoln, but he helped black people so he doesn’t count. Me, I’m the best as presidenting. The best. Believe me, when I’m president, things work. My team is the best because I only hire the best people. When they see me, they know I’m the best and if they get hired, it’s only because I hire the best but they’re not the best because I’m the best, believe me.”

“That’s a....good plan, father.” Now Kushner really wanted to know flight times to Russia. 

Jr was sad that his father was going to steal his idea again but didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to get slapped anymore. Meanwhile Eric was digging around his pockets trying to find his fidget spinner. 

“Now get the fuck out of here. I need to watch clips of Ivanka I got using a secret camera in her room!”

“Wait, what!?”

“Get the fuck out of here, Kushner!” 

“Can I stay daddy?”

“I said get the fuck out, Kushner.”

“I’m Eric!” 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 12

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, anxiety 

A/N: hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N stood in her bedroom considering Daniel’s words. Clueless. God, the word itself stung coming from someone she had grown to see as a big brother. Clueless. Well, sure, she did not exactly know what happened behind closed doors with both the Stan family and Forrest family business but neither did Daniel, or at least as well as he bragged to know. She had heard both families were cruel but in all honesty, she just couldn’t imagine any of the heads of both families being those monsters people spoke of. She specially could not imagine Sebastian to be the monster Dan wanted to paint him, no. He had kind eyes, he didn’t have the type of darkness that she had seen in various other lesser associates, he had peaceful ones like the sea after a storm. Besides, Y/N liked to consider herself a good judge of character so maybe Dan was just being overprotective.

Annoyed, she huffed, turning on her side with her phone on her hand as she searched for the contact she wanted to call. She took her phone up to her ear, hearing the dialling tone for what felt for ages until the familiar operator voice came through. The number you have dialled is unavailable, please leave your message at the sound of the tone.

     - Hi Sebastian, it’s Y/N. I just ... I just wanted to check on you, to see if you’re alright. Give me a call when you can. Okay ... bye. 

She sighed, throwing her phone to the side table before getting under her duvet, her mind finally getting time to wrap around what had happened days prior. Why didn’t she feel guilty she had kissed a very engaged man? She always thought that cheating was a terrible thing to do to someone yet right now all she could think about was that maybe ... maybe she would be able to do it again. It wasn’t right but he was just so electric, magnetic even and his words echoed in her mind like a drum ... I’m here for you, no one can harm you. 

Sure, she had protection at most times considering Elias and Christian, whenever not in Gwen’s bedroom, were constantly around ensuring that no one got in or out of the house without permission or reason to do. However, protection from Sebastian sounded ... sweeter, warmer even. No man had ever told her they were there for her, much less they would fight their own wife for her (this mostly due to her preference at avoiding married men). It was unfair, very unfair that the very first time she felt seen and protected ... maybe even fully appreciated was by someone she just couldn’t have.

As her mind raced through various excuses as to why she kissed the mob boss, the sleepless nights caught up to her and soon she found herself surrounded by the familiar darkness of slumber. She woke up once again with the sun beams cutting through her window and decided that maybe right now what she needed was a good amount of food.

Going down the stairs, the familiar sight of Amelia in the kitchen preparing a fresh brew of coffee made her sleepily smile. This was the normality and home life she needed after all of Paris’ events. 

    - Good morning, Miss Y/N. How was Paris? - she turned on the kettle at the sight of the handmaid to prepare her favourite infusion. 

    - Paris was lovely. - she smiled softly, not pulling too much at the skin of her cheeks as she sat on the high chairs. - Do you think I could have some grilled cheese this morning?

   - You can have whatever you want, Miss Y/N. It is always a pleasure to cook for you. - Y/N couldn’t help but smile wider at that statement. It felt nice to have someone to talk to who wasn’t about to married to a mob boss, a mob boss, associates or bodyguards. - You look different.

    - How so? - she raised an eyebrow at the statement. Oh god, had Gwen discovered she kissed her husband to be and cut her hair in disdain? 

    - I don’t know ... there’s a spring in your step, you look very happy. Might there be someone in Paris? - yeah, sure, he is in Paris, he’s just not her someone, he’s Gwen’s. - Maybe it’s the European air.

   - Maybe ... You wouldn’t know when Mr. Stan is coming back, would you?

   - I don’t know, Miss. Mr. Stan shows up when he wants, never leaves a message, he’s just like his father in that sense. 

   - Did you know his father? - Y/N had never actually known his father but from what she heard from Gwen he was a tall, stern man who managed to put fear and respect in everyone’s hearts without giving it much of a try.

   - Just between us both Miss Y/N, I am very glad he only resembles his father in that sense. No man should be that comfortable with death and power and not fear it all the time. - she shrugged, flipping the sandwich on the skillet. - If I must say, I think Mr. Stan is much more like his mother. I’ve always said this house needed another kind woman after she left. 

   - I just can’t picture it. - Y/N didn’t exactly knew who Sebastian’s mother was. In all honesty, not a lot of people knew and Sebastian wasn’t one for big speeches about his family. However, she had always pictured him as being much more like his father, a powerful man. - He doesn’t really talk about his family. 

   - What about you, Miss Y/N? What about your parents?

   - Oh ... - she toyed with the chain of her necklace, slightly bitting her lip. - I don’t really know. Mr. Forrest told me my father was one of his workers, never told me much about my mother either. They died shortly after I was born. 

   - I’m very sorry, Miss Y/N. - Amelia slid her the grilled cheese on a nice porcelain plate. - I’m sure that they would be very proud of creating such a nice, beautiful lady. 

   - Thank you, Amelia. 

   - Oh ... good morning, Mr. Daniel. - she pipped up and Y/N rolled her eyes, not in the mood to speak with Daniel after last night’s events. He, however, had other plans as he sat right next to her. 

   - Good morning, Y/N. 

   - Good morning, Daniel. - she slid away from him. 

   - Oh c’mon, you’re not gonna sulk at me are you? - he poked her arm with one of the forks that had been laid out to him. - You know I’m sorry.  

    - You’re always sorry but you never actually say it. - Y/N huffed, grabbing her plate from the table and walking up to the sink. Dan sighed, knowing that, despite her being generally a kind and forgiving woman, whenever she was upset, she just remained upset for a while before forgetting it. However, this could take ages. 

Y/N decided she was still not ready to deal with Daniel or any of his opinions towards her view of the people she surrounded herself with. In all honesty, she had no time to worry about him or what he thought of her as her mind was filled with worry towards Sebastian. She knew he was notoriously hard to harm or even shot at however she hadn’t gotten a reply to her call and knew nothing of when he was about to return.

The days passed by and Daniel had managed to somehow get Y/N to get less mad at him by taking her to see his daughter. Sophie had been born while he was at university and Y/N had grown very attached to the little girl as she had been at home with Gwen when she was born. However, not even young Sophie could take her mind away from Sebastian. Her brain had quit making her feel guilty about the fact she had kissed the man who was to marry the only friend she ever knew and had instead turned all its efforts into making her picture all the horrific things that could happen to him. She knew it was reckless and pointless to worry about him, he clearly seemed to be invisible at what he did and part of her pitied the poor unfortunate souls who had dared to shot at him. 

Those days turned into weeks and as the third week hit mark, she was absolutely unconsolable. Gwen was not much help. In actuality, the heiress was rather happy that her fiancé wasn’t around as this gave her plenty of free time to do what she wanted with her newly found interest in her private bodyguard, Christian. Meanwhile, Y/N had taken to spending her days in the kitchen with Amelia and in the library, but not even that could take her mind off if he was alright despite Amelia and Elias constantly telling her it was normal of Sebastian to disappear and then suddenly return. 

Nevertheless, Y/N was anxious about his fate, spending most of the night sat by the window, listening as the rain fell down on the bright city that never slept. This was one of those nights where her fingers lingered on the fogged rainy windows, lightly doodling. This quickly grew tired-some and, wrapped around in one of the very expensive white cashmere blankets Sebastian had placed around the house, she went down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mindlessly, like a movement so familiar it didn’t need her attention, Y/N put some almond milk, cinnamon and honey in a pot and brought it up to the heat before taking to slowly mix it with a wooden spoon.

The sound of the bubbling milk and rain was enough to make her feel like every corner of the world was home and as she poured the mixture into a mug, she softly smiled at the overview of New York from the countless amount of ceiling length windows. It almost made her forget her worries. Almost. The heart warming atmosphere was interrupted by the ring of the lift that gave way into the entrance of the penthouse. Y/N turned around abruptly, the sight bringing a sparkle to her eyes. Placing the mug on the first surface she came in contact with, she rushed to the entrance, wrapping her arms around the mob boss as if they had been separated for over 10 years. 

   - Night, angel. - Sebastian was tired and that was noticeable by the dark bags under his eyes and his dishevelled appearance. However, he could surely get used to having Y/N wrap her arms around him every time he came home. Y/N, on the other hand, came to her senses and stepped back, feeling the heat coming to her cheeks. 

    - We were worried about you. - she shifted her weight from feet to feet.

    - Who’s we, angel? I’d gather we would mean you. - his hand traced down her forearm to her hand, softly holding it on his. - I’m sorry I didn’t answer your message, I didn’t want to lie to you as to when I’d be back. Besides, I assumed Gwen would enjoy a holiday from me. 

    - You could’ve said something. - she rubbed the side of her neck, eyes fixated on the ground. - I was worried. 

    - Ah ... - he smirked, taking a step forward. - You were worried. That was what I wanted to hear. 

    - Well, I ... I just wanted to know so I could warn Gwen. I shouldn’t bother you anymore, you must want to rest. I can fix you something to eat if you want. 

    - You’re not the housemaid, Y/N. Although something smells really good in here. 

    -  Oh ... - Y/N rushed into the kitchen, turning off the hob and bringing the pot back to one of the metal bases in the kitchen. - It’s just something me, Gwen, and Dan used to have when we were little and couldn’t sleep. 

   - What’s wrong? - Sebastian noticed the shift in her tone.

   - Do you think I’m clueless? - she leaned onto the kitchen’s wall. 

   - Why do you ask?

   - Dan seems to think I’m clueless. 

   - Daniel Forrest? - he asked and Y/N nodded. - What does he know of the world to make assumptions?

   - He’s sort of right. - Y/N took a place on the chair next to his. - I don’t exactly know what Mr. Forrest or you do, specifically. I don’t even know what you were up to these past weeks. 

   - It’s entirely way too boring besides I’d rather be surrounded by clueless people than the ones I’m surrounded by. You really shouldn’t worry about what he thinks of you. 

  - Do you worry what others think of you?

  - I’ve lived long enough to have certain names hauled at me. Some deserving, some undeserving but I tend not to stress about it. My mother used to say people like to talk about those they can’t be. 

  - Well, if it’s any worth .. I don’t think half the names I’ve heard given to you do actually have any truth to them. 

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld​ @sarge-barnes-sir @captainchrisstan​

[snowdragon4]

Young Justice case files 801G

The suicide Squad

Chapter 1: Meet the new boss.

“I’m not resigning, just taking a leave of absence…I need a break Kaldur… You, me, Wally, we founded this team, without him….”

—:0:—

One year later. Belle Reve penitentiary

A familiar throbbing pounded against the inside of Floyd Lawton’s skull, as well as irritating chafing against his wrists. “Ugh, fan-fucking-tastic.” He lifted his head, rolling it from side to side to stretch and crack his neck. Opening his eyes he wasn’t surprised to see that he was back in the circular room, shackled to a chair by his wrists and ankles. “Good to be back.” He droned. Looking around the room he noticed that six of the twelve chairs were filled with the unconscious bodies of his fellow cell mates.

“WOO!” He jumped, startled from the sudden exclamation coming from a chair to his right. “Who’s ready to have some fun time?! Ha ha ha!!”

He rolled his eyes before looking at the colorful woman bouncing in her chair. “Good to see you too Harley.”

Harley Quinn squealed with excitement. “Hey DS! Ready for good ol’ fashion playtime!?”

“Oh yes,” another of the crew was beginning to come too, “anotha’ rip-roarin’ good time, eh mates?”

“Mornin’ Diggy!” Harley bounced again. “Aren’tya excited!? Hehehehe!?”

The Aussie rolled his neck. “Let’s jus get this ova with.”

Floyd shook his head. “There’s gotta be a better way to get us here then to gas us in our cells.”

“Awe, but it’s the highlight of my day.” Harley stuck her lower lip out.

Before anyone could correct her on how horrendous the drugs after effects were, another of the group let out a low growling his as he began to wake up.

“Now how do ya feel Sheila?” Digger Hawkins glared at Harley, “you woke up Croc-y.”

The animal hybrid known as Killer Croc hissed in his throat before opening his reptilian eyes.

“Wakey, wakey Croc-y-poo! It’s playtime!” She was only met with another low hiss and the barking of fangs. Clearly not appreciating being woken up.

Floyd however turned his attention to the final two. He wasn’t interested in the older looking man with the long face, who was slowly starting to wake up, instead his focus was on the girl. A young girl with cool blue hair and pale skin.

“Who’s the squirt?”

Harley followed his line of sight to the girl. “Oh, That’s Caitlin. She’s new, well new-ish. They call her ‘Killer Frost’!” She added a bit of drama to her introduction.

Digger examined her, before curling his lip. “A bit young for the big ‘ouse eh?”

“Not when you’ve killed an entire halfway house by freezing them to death.” Harley giggled.

Dr. Light had finally woken up, managing to hear the last parts of the conversation about the girl seated next to him. Floyd could see the good doctor look her over with a hungry look in his drug induced eyes.

“Poor girl,” he said in a low tone to his voice, “she can’t be no more the sixteen.”

“Eighteen douchebag,” Caitlin’s eyes opened revealing a pair of clear ice blue orbs that began shooting in all directions with fear, “What the f—what is this!?” She screamed.

From the door at the far left side of the room stepped an African-American woman dressed in a short purple business suit, and a cold commanding air about her. The Warden Of Belle Reve, Amanda Waller. “Good morning.” She greeted. “Everyone comfortable?”

“What is this!?” Caitlin shrieked.

Waller glanced at the frightened girl with disinterest. “Settle down miss Snow. This is what you wanted. A chance to get your sentence commuted.”

“Commuted!?” She wriggled in her chair as if begging to be set loose. “You said you were gonna transfer me to that meta halfway house in Metropolis?!”

Waller approached her, hands behind her back and face placid. “I’m sorry. I must have misplaced your paperwork. So you still belong to me.”

“Waller being manipulative? What a surprise.”

She glared at Floyd, but ignored his comment for the moment. She stood in the center of the villains addressing each of them. “For those that are new to this dance,” she gestured to Caitlin and Dr. Light, “welcome to Task Force X. My unique team in dealing with issues the ‘Hero’s’ are to, for lack of a better word, pure to handle.” There were nods, smiles and murmurs of agreements, “however, lucky for you, I won’t be running this operation.”

“Awe, but mommy Wally,” Harley pouted.

Waller frowned. “You will instead be on loan for the duration of this mission.”

“Alrigh’. So where’s the boss, let’s get this shit show started.”

Floyd didn’t care who was running things as long as he Shaved time off of his sentence. Suddenly he felt a cold chill raise the hairs on his arms and neck. A heaviness settled over his stomach in a way far worse than Waller could ever do when she was around. Looking around the room it was easy to tell that the others were feeling just as uneasy as he was, but what he didn’t catch until now was dark mist settling over them.

Waller grinned. “It seems our host has arrived.”

A man slowly emerged from the shadows, dressed in a black overcoat resting over a three button black suit and a blue tie. Underneath combed ink black hair was a pale face with five o’clock shadow, a crooked nose and a small grin. What drew Floyd’s attention however was his eyes. A deep brown so dark they were almost black, and empty. Completely empty.

He glanced at each member sitting in the circle. “So this is my merry band?” It wasn’t hard to locate the thick English accent he spoke with.

“Your merry band that’s on loan.” Waller corrected.

The stranger shrugged before beginning to pace around the prisoners. Harley Quinn, with her limited movement, did her best to puff out her chest as he passed her. “‘Ello govna’. God save the Queen. Pip pip, Cheerios. And what’s your name talk, dark and handsome?”

He winked down at her. “Names Landon darling. I run hell.”

A loud scoff sounded from Dr. Light. “Run hell? Like the devil or some nonsense?”

Landon turned around, his grin vanishing and eyes going cold. Well colder. “Flattering, but no, not the devil. Old Lucy left office a few thousand millennia ago and since then a few Kings have taken his place. I am the latest in the line of rulers. Don’t worry, I won’t make you bow.”

“Awe,” Harley looked up at him with large pouting eyes, “but I like being on my knees.”

He turned back to her, his grin returning. “I don’t doubt that at all.”

“Alrigh’ stop the flirtin’. You got some action for us or not?”

“Right,” Landon acted as if he had forgotten the others were there, “let’s get to business. First things first.” He flicked his wrist so that his palm was face up, followed by excruciating pain. The six prisoners began shouting, screaming and roaring in agony as electronic devices the size of quarters shot from their necks and landed, bloody, in his hand. “You won’t be needing these silly things.”

Floyd rolled his neck, feeling a slight tear in his skin, the next thing he knew Amanda Waller was howling with rage. Landon rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, wrapping Waller in tendrils of black energy and removed her from the room. “Now that we’ve gotten rid of the foghorn.” He let the devices fall to the ground, removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hands of the blood.

“What the hell was that?!” Caitlin screamed.

“Lil’ bombs they placed in our necks.” Digger coughed. “Keeps us docile. Looks like Mister Landon ‘ere just set us free.”

Landon gave a small nod. “I’m of the firm belief that such drastic measures aren’t necessary. Especially when I can offer so much more than miss Waller. Time off your sentence? Pfft! Child’s play.”

“Oh really? And what can you’s do for us?” Harley asked.

Landon smirked, clenched his fist and threw into the air a handful of what looked like black sand. “Well that depends my dear,” the sand began to flow through and around each prisoner, “What is your desire? Money? Power? Fame?” He glanced at Killer Croc. “Hair?”Floyd wasn’t sure what the others were seeing, but for him he could see his daughter Zoe through the shadows forming before his eyes. Freedom? Zoe? A new life? It couldn’t be possible. “Like I said,” he snapped his fingers releasing each of them from their visions and chairs, “anything you desire.”

“What’s the catch?” Dr. Light stood up and folded his arms over his chest, but Landon simply narrowed his eyes at the skinny man.

Landon gave a weak smile. “I’m glad you asked. Sure I promise riches, but what’s the saying? Nothings free?”

“So what’s the caper, Big Ben?” Harley had thrown herself over his shoulder, her eyelashes batting so fast she could blow out a candle.

He regarded her with a knowing and sly smile. “Are you familiar with an organization called ‘the Light’?”

The group tensed. “We’ve had dealings,” said Floyd, “worked a few jobs for them. Why?”

“Well Vandal had asked me some time ago if I wanted to join his super secret club, to which I respectfully declined. However we came to an agreement, I stay out of their business, they stay out of mine. A term that he, unwittingly, violated.”

“Your barking up the wrong tree, mate.” Digger laughed, “we can’t take on, much less kill, Vandal, fuckin’, Savage.”

I’m not asking you too. He has something of mine, and I want it back.” He spun around to address the group. “Get it back for me and whatever it is you desire is yours. Pretty simple.”

“Do we have a choice?” Caitlin frowned.

Landon quirked a brow at her. “I suppose so. I would have figured you would jump at the chance for some, as our Australian friend would say, action.”

She curled her lip in disgust. “I’m not even supposed to be here.”

“No one is,” Light chuckled, “I don’t know about her, but I’m game.”

“Count me in,” Digger raised his hand.

“My deepest desire, uh, hells to the yeah!” Harley clapped.

Floyd shrugged with a half grin. “Sounds good to me.”

Everyone glanced at Killer Croc who flashed a fang filled grin. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Landon approached Caitlin. “And you?”

She looked up at him with a mixture of anger and disinterest, but finally shrugged a shoulder. “Not like I’m doing anything.”

“Splendid!” Landon clapped his hands once and turned to face the rest of the group. “I will send you to the storage facility so that you can get changed for the ball. There, you will meet your liaison. His name’s Chip. Lovely fellow.” He held out his hands towards them, but then stopped. “Oh one more thing.” He faced Dr. light. “Doctor, it’s my understanding that your incarcerated for the attack of a child during one of your ‘light based attacks’ am I correct?”

A slimy grin spread across his long face as his eyes flirted over to Caitlin. “Well she wasn’t technically a child, age fifteen, but yes. Well at least that was the only attack they caught me for.”

Floyd clenched his fist at the sounds of Lights obnoxious laughter. Sure he was a killer, the Deadshot, but never Women, and never kids. What he wouldn’t give for a gun right now.

Surprisingly, Landon joined him in his laughter, sarcastic laughter. He stopped then looked past Light, as if looking at something in mid air, and muttered a single word. “Eat.”

Floyd jumped backwards, a look of fear in his and then on the other’s faces. Seemingly out of thin air something pinned Arthur to the ground then began slashing, biting and clawing at his back before flipping him over and continuing to rip him apart piece by piece.

The whole scene lasted about two minutes, and never once did Light stop screaming. Not until his throat had been ripped out.

“What, the bloody FUCK was that!?” Diggers eyes widened further when saw bloody paw prints, the size of a bears, stalking away from its kill and to join Landon at his side.

Landon patted the air about shoulder level. “A hound of Hell. Unseen my mortal eyes.” His gaze went dark with warning. “Just so you all know. I’m always watching.” He snapped his fingers and the members of his new suicide squad vanished in black smoke.

For the rest of this chapter, check out the link below.

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13191770/1/Young-Justice-case-files-801G-The-Suicide-Squad

[alexandra-amaria]

The End

I’m out of the selection, here’s why.

I stared at the paper, the threat. Whoever knew this could end me. They knew it and I knew it, so what did they want? I want to go home. I miss my sisters, I even miss my mom. I hate it here, I don’t have any friends, let alone talk to anyone but Eloise, I have become friend rivals of sorts I suppose with her. But aside from that, I am miserable. I have to act like some innocent literature doll when I’m with Haiden and it just makes me sick. I want to go home. But I can't, I have to do this for them, I have to protect my sisters.

I sigh as I walk down, the hallway heading upstairs to find Haiden's room, I had to take it a step up. This was the elite now. But as I walked I found myself struggling to catch my breath. Leaning against the wall I panted as my bottom lip quivered and I finally couldn’t take it anymore and began to cry. Why was the world so unfair. God, I sound like Tracie now. But why. I just want to be happy but instead, I constantly had and have to throw my feelings aside for the sake of other people, why can things never work out where I am happy and my friends and family are safe.

I heard a sigh from behind me quickly followed with a “what's wrong?”

Eloise.

I thought for a moment before mumbling “I don't know, everything.”

“I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong.” She replied. I don’t want this pipsqueaks help, even if she was a rather pretty pip.

“....I don't even know where to begin telling.” I sighed for a moment before thinking of what exactly was wrong at the moment.

“you can pick what to start with, do you want to know what's wrong with this place, haiden, or just me?”

“Start with my brother, then go to the palace.” She answered.

“Let's not talk about what you think is wrong with yourself, it's pointless and stupid, the sooner you learn that the better.” She added, wow that was kind of a compliment.

“Well to start with your brother I first have to explain my sisters. I love them dearly and they were assaulted by a man my mother was whoring herself out to a month or so before the selection started. It's the only reason I entered this stupid game. I want protection for them and I can get it if I win, but I just don't love your brother, he's a decent person sure but I'm not meant to be with him. But I know that it's selfish and I need to keep up the act because I need to protect my sisters, but I just can’t imagine spending my life acting like some gentle poetry reader so your brother will like me, it makes me want to vomit. And I shouldn't even be telling you this because I know you'll be faithful to him and tell him what I said which is basically just selling my sister's away to hell. And this place, I was...am, not a good person Eloise, I hurt people for being in a lower caste and I know that it is wrong, and the only reason I do it is because I hate the fact that I was once like them. I was poor, and ugly, and dirty, I was a five with no talents. My mother sacrificed herself to a wicked and horrible man so we could be twos, and it's my fault she did that. But someone here knows about it. Eloise, they could bury me with that information. I just can't let that happen, but there is nothing I can do, I have no idea who knows and they haven't asked for anything yet so there's nothing I can do to make sure their lips will stay sealed.” I spewed throwing up my words.

“For my brother, I am under no obligation to tell him anything. I... I know what it's like to want to protect the people closest to you, even if you can't always do that. And for that other thing, all I can suggest is that you show everyone that you can change. Apologies, explain, be the bigger person so that if anyone tries anything, they'll look bad for targeting someone who obviously wants to be better. Prove that you're different. And prove it to me too. I've seen what you do, and I can't say that I approve at all. I have to see anyone hurting, and that includes horrible people if nothing else makes yourself deserving of my help.” Eloise replied before crossing her arms seeming satisfied with her answer.

“I have already tried to be nicer to people of lower castes, I stopped attacking Adriana, and Katherine while she was here. I have left them alone but it's not enough apparently. And I can never officialy say where I come from. If I don't need this I still need to have a career and no one is going to hire me once they know I used to be a five.” I retorted.

“Why wouldn't they. A caste is simply a number, it's what you are now that matters. And you'll always be a selected, that counts for a lot.” Eloise asked naively.

“Eloise I get that you're supposed to believe the best in your countries people but twos are assholes, especially twos of power. I will not be able to find work.” I stated.

“Just because you assume everyone will be horrible to you doesn't mean they would. There are millions of people in this country and you assume that they're all how you expect them to be. That's not how it works. You'll only not be able to find work if you don't care enough to try.” She replied then turned away mumbling under her breath about stupid entitled twos.

    “Aren't you a bit of a hypocrite for just mumbling that. Saying not all twos will be entitled and then saying that it's stupid that they are.” I pointed out.

    “I was referring to you, not twos in general.”

    “Ah much better makes a lot more sense. Can't imagine you'd ever be scared for your future though so I wonder if you have the right to criticize me.” I replied sarcastically.

    “I'm the youngest child of the King, I have no real talents or experience in anything other than being seen, being the youngest child. As soon as my brother is married I'll fade into obscurity with absolutely nothing to do with my life. You worry about your future, you claim that I've never had to worry about mine. That's because my future doesn't exist. My future is nothing. I don't need to hear this from someone who obviously doesn't understand.” She then took her turn to spew and began to leave but I grabbed her hand halting her retreat.

    “No wait, Eloise I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that I don't know what I was thinking. But what you said is wrong. You do have a future only dead people don't.  You can do whatever you want with your future because it's yours and that's what matters not if you'll be remembered. Even if that's what you really want there are ways to do that too, you could be a diplomat or something, maybe even a politician if you wanted.” I pleaded not wishing to lose her company. She was the only person I felt I truly could talk with in this wretched place.

    She then pulled her hand away from me, “Don't go talking about things you clearly don't understand Miss Amaria, it's not a good look on you.” She stated promptly before leaving me alone.

    What had I done wrong? How could I fix it? This would take careful consideration, a females mind is a very difficult thing to understand. Nah, I’ll just get her some chocolates and apologize, she likes them and I’m sure I’m in the wrong.

 “Hey, sweetie? Are you alright?” I heard from behind me. Who?

I turned around and saw a peppy young brunette who I was able to identify from magazines as Gracebella Sinclair. She was not someone who I deemed worthy of her recognition, however, she was brutal and honest and I respected that.

“Leave me alone.” I sighed not really caring to talk to little miss invite the killers to your caste.

“Why?” She asked.

“You're a spoiled brat who sends murders into my caste,” I replied getting straight to my issue with her to which she replied by raising her eyebrows in surprise.

“ Oh, so you're one of those twos.” She replied in a flat tone.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I grumbled now getting annoyed with the insults.

“You're so blinded by your fame and the belief that you are a special snowflake that you treat everyone else as vile without even looking at who they really are.” Ms. Sinclair replied.

“I am blinded by nothing. What I say is only honest.” I replied sternly.

“What do you think of Prince Haiden?” She asked changing the topic.

“He's a man that's about all I think of prince Haiden.” I sighed.

    “You sound a lot like someone I know. Anyways, maybe you don't like men?” She asked.

    “That's outrageous I like plenty of men!” I yelled back, ughs the nerve of her.

    “Perhaps you have feelings for someone else then and they're causing you to not see Haiden as anything but what he 'physically' is,” Gracebella suggested.

    “No, of course I don’t.” I huffed.......

........“But if I did, what would you suppose I do to fix the situation?” I asked.

“Well, you should tell them how to feel. It'll work the same way getting over an addiction does. You accept it first. The best way to accept it is to tell the person how you feel.” Gracebella replied.

“How in the world should I do that, hypothetically speaking I mean?” I asked.  

“Well, you could just straight up tell them,” Gracebella suggested. Just then a blonde walked up.

“I happened to overhear you talking about confessing to someone, and I think the best way to do that is to propose to them by jumping off the roof.” The blonde suggested.

“Uhh, I well,” I replied stalling while I took a second to process her statement.

“If you want to do that I suppose to each their own.” Gracebella sighed.

“I don't really,” I replied blandly.

“there's a shoe in a plant in the hall going to the stairs for the roof. Hide the ring in there and propose.” The blonde suggested.

“I don't think she's planning on proposing Cillia,” Gracebella informed.  

“Thanks, catch you later,” I replied before getting up freeing myself from their wretched company as well as getting an idea.

A few hours later I returned to the royalty floor with a box of chocolates and my swallowed pride. I went up to Eloise’s door and knocked gently. “I’ve brought you something, Eloise,” I said softly.

“What is it?” She asked from the inside of her room.

“A peace offering,” I replied.

“And what would that peace offering be?” She asked.

“Chocolate,” I said smugly.

I heard the soft clink of her door unlocking.

“Eloise, I wanted to apologize. What I said earlier was completely uncalled for and unreasonable. I know you have struggled in your life and I was upset and said things I shouldn’t have. I hope you forgive me.” I replied while looking directly into her eyes and caught a little blush from her.

“Yes it was completely uncalled for, you have no idea what it’s like to be me. What people expect from me every day, the way I am forced to live. You have no idea how hard it is to have to be princess Eloise rather than just Eloise. At least you get to be just Alexandra.”

“Yes, and again I’m sorry. I really don’t have any excuse, I just shouldn’t have said the things that I said and I regret them. Do you forgive me?” I asked and waited.

She thought for a moment before speaking up, “Well, I suppose I’ll forgive you but only because you brought chocolate.” Eloise replied.

"Thank you," I said and hugged her tightly. Once I pulled away I just couldn’t find myself letting go fully and dove back to her but this time for a kiss, and she didn’t pull away. Once I pulled away I looked down at her a little nervous and waiting for a response, I could feel the tips of my ears turning red with embarrassment and nervousness.

“Not bad, but I’ll help you improve.” She replied with a smug smirk.

I smiled and looked up at her. “Great, but there’s something else too!” I said with an excited voice before lightly grabbing her hand and taking her to the potted plant at the foot of the stairwell.

    Once we arrived I heard her groan a little, “please tell me we are not going to the roof, I know that’s my brother's place to take his lovers but not mine I prefer the- what are you doing?” She asked as I Kneeled down to get the shoe out and held it out to her.

“Eloise, I know this is fast..this whole thing is, and I know that there are better times for this…but I just can’t seem to keep my mouth shut. You said you didn’t want to be a princess anymore, you just wanted to be Eloise, well…I can make that happen. Come with me, let’s go somewhere together. It’ll be an escape from all of this chaos, and mess, and fear. Come with me Eloise, I love you and I want to be with you.” I offered with a shaky breath before looking up at her.    

She then put one of her feet in the shoe.    

“No, no.” I sighed taking the shoe off of her and taking out a small diamond ring. I stood up now above her due to our heights.

“Eloise, I’m asking you to marry me. Will you run away with me? To Italy. Then…..will you marry me there? No one will know where we are. It’ll be safe, and warm, and just us. I promise you I will protect you with my life.” I cleared up, hoping I would hear a pleasing answer.

“Maybe.” She said sternly, I felt my heart drop.    

“I am not crazy. Just because we kissed once does not mean I’m ready to just jump into marriage with you.” She added before crossing her arms and turning her face away.

“But I will take that trip to Italy. We can see where it goes from there. Oh but I am taking that ring.” She said before taking it from me. I couldn’t help but grin painfully wide. It was a chance.

And so we left. We ran away using the night as our cover, no one would know where we were. All of the focus was on Haiden rather than all of the royal children, and me being not one of the preferred of the selected, as well as the old selected being here, we were able to slip away.

ATTENTION: Lady Alexandra Amaria and Princess Eloise Schreave have been missing since last night.

[notstilinski]

Bloody Nose

Title: Bloody Nose

Word Count: 2, 335

Description: Logan struggled with just how energetic and over the top his son, Roman, is but he does love him more than anything. Roman just had a habit of taking things too far. 

Links: My ko-fi & the fic on ao3

A/N: The entire reason that I wrote this was I wanted to write some ‘bad meetings’ instead of some of those cuter meetings that a lot of fics have. (With no beta readers because we die like men here!) And in all honesty? I really loved the idea of having a single parents fic between them though I debated on who kids was whose. This might also be continued into a series of sorts or some sort of continuation? Also I love five year old Roman with all my heart oh wow. 

    The fall air felt cool and crisp as it briefly blew through the park, swaying some branches and taking a few loose leaves with it. A calm euro had settled over the park which made it more bearable than it usually was. Sounds of excitement and joey radiated from the playground here each child seemed to be enjoying themselves in one way or another. No one seemed to be left by themselves as they all grouped off together and swapped between different groups. You had to wonder how that would have been different a mere few years before. There seemed to be so many people who didn't seem to be ready to be parents around that time... Maybe they just grew up and learned how to handle parenting.

    Logan had to admit that there was a chance that he hadn't known what he was doing that first year of parenthood. Objectively? Of course he did but raising a child was never objective. It was always different than how other parents experienced raising their child. There was no way that he could avoid learning that, honestly. Everyone who was 'close' to him explained that to him and Roman himself seemed intent on teaching his father that. The five year old was the complete opposite of his father and that was easy for anyone who ever met them to see. Part of him wished that that wasn't the case and other parents would stop doing The Look when they actually met him. As hard as they tried, no one had mastered the art of covering up their surprise when they realized Roman was his. Some of the more regular parents tried, they really did, but they weren't much better off than the new parents. It just made them look awkward, honestly. A different version of The Look.

    Warmth washed over him as he took a long sip of the coffee clutched in his gloved hands. Part of him tried to coax himself into putting the coffee down for a second (it felt like it was burning his finger tips off through the gloves) or to maybe slow down his intake of the drink. There was no need to get sick off of the one thing that was able to keep him awake and somewhat energized. After all, parents didn't actually get sick days or days off unless there was someone to take care of their child. A babysitter, maybe? Logan didn't know if he could handle a babysitter that he didn't know well enough. The only person who he may have been comfortable with leaving Roman with would be Joan. But they were busy and he didn't want to impose. No one would have expected Logan to be the anxious mother hen type.

    "Dad!" A tiny red clad form barreled toward him and Logan barley jerked at the impact of his body. "Check out the sword I got for saving Princess Valerie!"

    "Roman," he started carefully while nudging the stick away from his face. "Be careful. You could hurt someone on accident with that."

    Roman opened his mouth as if to argue against the request - Something that he seemed to be rather good at.

   "And not just the bad guys who kidnapped Valeria. Just be careful not to kill them or anyone with it."

   Bright eyes considered the 'sword' for a second before he looked back at his father. The professor recognized that calculating look as well. Almost like the child was attempting to calculate all the possible outcomes if he didn't listen... And how much trouble he would be in later if he didn't listen.

   He took another second before he nodded gravely. "Okay. I'll still fight off the bad guys who threaten Valerie!"

   Before he could say anything else, Roman shot off back towards the playground where his friends were waiting for him. He seemed mindful of the stick that he believed to be a sword, at least. Sometimes Roman got a bit too into play and pretend, and would play a bit too rough. Nothing like those other boys who would roughhouse and hurt each other on purpose, though! Logan had to thank whatever higher being there was that Roman seemed more sensible than that. Plus the fact that he was a bit too sensitive to play with this sort of boys.

   Another sip of his coffee warmed him as he tried to keep track of his son. Of course, he would be with Valerie and Terrence but Logan was always a bit anxious. A secret mother hen. It was better to worry like that and know where your child was then to be too relaxed, right? Or was he just being even more paranoid than normal? Roman's voice carried over to him from the center of the playground where the pre-schooler seemed to be giving a rousing speech. He had a glare for the dramatics... Something that he got from his father, in reality. Logan just would never admit to that.

    The new arrivals to the playground were hard to not notice as soon as they were close enough. It wasn't the child who caught the attention, either. He was dressed in dark clothes with the hood of his sweater pulled up. A moment passed before the darkly dressed child slunk off to join the ranks of the children on the playground. Practically a stark contrast to the child, the father was dressed in warmer colors and was a bit more bundled up as well. Every other parent from that area seemed to gravitate toward him without any question or hesitance. Almost like he was a bright, warm beam of light and they were all freezing. The sound of his laughter was loud and bright, as well, almost exactly what you would expect out of him. Logan had to look away while something in his chest tightened because God. There was so many times that he had wished that he had that sort of ease around people. That brightness. Maybe then people wouldn't do The Look when he mentioned that he was Roman's dad. Maybe people wouldn't be so awkward around him then? Logan could only wish for that.

    He could already tell that the stranger was the sort of person people expected to be raising Roman. (He tried not to let his insecurity get to the parenting part of his life but sometimes he couldn't help it).

    A scream was what finally snapped him out of his thoughts as his head jerked upward. The other parents all had similar reactions to the sound.

    On his feet in a second, Logan quickly moved toward the playground in search of the problem. He didn't need to look behind him to know that the other parents had followed him to check on the problem and make sure that the kids were all okay. There was a sinking feeling in his chest as some voice in the back of his mind told him that the problem had to do with Roman. He knew how his son could get, after all.

    There was a collective gasp as soon as the parents spotted the problem. The feeling, and Logan's heart, sank all the way to his stomach. A group of children were crowded around the boy in dark clothes who had his hands pressed to his face. Blood dripped from his chin onto his sweater. Crouched beside him, still holding that stupid stick, was Roman. He was even bickering with the poor kid that got hit!

    "Virgil?" The child's father pushed forward to walk over and crouch next to his son.

    That was enough to snap Logan back as he jerked towards his son with a dark glare. Roman ducked back and let the stick go, allowing it to later to the ground.

Roman got a bit too into play and would play a bit too rough.

     "I said I was sorry!" The five year old pipped up anxiously, "I didn't mean to hit him!"

     Without a word, Logan found himself next to the child's father to see the damage before turning to his own.

     "I told you to be careful. You could have broken his nose!"

     "It was an accident!"

    Hours had passed and just the thought of what had happened at the park made the man's temple throb. The ride home had been a rather dramatic one with Roman shouting his innocence and on the verge of tears as he tried to convince his father that it was an accident. And to be honest? Logan knew that it probably had been an accident but that didn't excuse what had happened. He was still upset because not only did his son not listen to him but he had hurt another child. There was a part of him that dreaded going back to the playground again or seeing all the parents at school on Monday. He was almost certain that he would be big talk for them for the next two to three weeks before they moved on to something else. Funny, he thought as he ran a hand down his face, the universe had a funny way of fucking up his life. He took a second to remove his glasses and rub at his face before placing them back on as he carefully closed the door to Roman's room. The poor kid had exhausted himself. First with all the playing that he did before the accident and then the near hysterics he had brought himself to after that.

     Was coffee a good idea at such a late hour? Over clock read a simple 8:55 which wasn't too late for an actual adult but Logan felt like it was three in the morning. Ironically that would probably be when he was able to go to bed after his attempt to grade the midterm papers that he had collected from his class on Thursday. Maybe he really did need that cup of coffee. He could just warm the rest up again in the morning so he could avoid trying to drink the entire pot. The professor dug the stack of papers out from his bag to place them on the coffee table before he fussed around the counter to arrange his coffee station. Start the brewing, put out a mug to pour the coffee into, a small container of creamer, and a spoon to quickly stir it. Perfect. He also knew that he would need some sort of snack in the middle of grading papers when his mug of coffee would run low and he would be struggling to focus. But he would worry about that later when it came to it!

     An exhausted groan passed through him before it was followed by a tired yawn. The voice at the back of his head picked at him to consider the idea of hiring a babysitter or contacting Joan about maybe taking Roman for the day. He needed a favor repaid from them, anyways. He had just settled into a comfortable spot with the papers organized, the one in his lap on top of a hardcover book, pen poised to make the first mark when his phone chimed. Not something that was unusual enough to cause any alarm but it was enough to confuse Logan. No one really texted him, if he was completely honest. He preferred calls and the rare times that someone did text him, it was usually around lunch or the end of the school day. Another chime and he reached out to grab his phone.

    Hey! We never got to introduce ourself to each other. I'm Patton! I got your number from one of the moms that I talked to once I got home. Today was a bit crazy with what happened at the park but I wanted you to know that Virgil is okay.

The guy -Patton- had sent a picture of himself with the kid in what looked like a hospital hallway. Patton was smiling while his son seemed focused on making a decision between which lollipop he wanted from the nurses station. There were bandages on the kid's face that made Logan's heart sink a little bit.

     We're also not upset about what happened. After all, it was a mistake and Virgil even said that Roman didn't mean to do it.

    Something about the fact that a stranger, one who had gotten hurt because of Roman, would easily admit that it was not his fault seemed to throw Logan off. It wasn't like what had happened was some small thing, either! He couldn't bring himself to admit that he would be so forgiving if something like that had happened to his own child. Eyes wide in bewilderment, he scanned the messages again and took a long pause after that. There was a chance that he would have to speak to whichever mom had given out his number so freely but a small part of him appreciated it. He appreciated knowing that everything was okay. (And he knew that Roman would love to know the 'good' news in the morning, too). He tapped his phone before it could go back to its black screen and quickly typed out a quick 'That's good! I'm glad that he's okay and I'm still sorry about what happened' before he sent it. A second later and he quickly added 'Thanks for the update.' before he closed his phone and tossed it beside him.

    Focus went back to the papers in front of him and he simply stared for a moment. Logan felt like he needed to mull things over or take a minute to process the brief but new information. With a deep breath, he shook his head and brought his thoughts back on track. Fingers curled around the red pen again as his eyes scanned over the first page of the paper. He had work to finish so he could finally get some rest. The good news could be wait to be broken in the morning.

[emmagreen1220-blog]

New Post has been published on Literary Techniques

New Post has been published on https://literarytechniques.org/foreshadowing-in-literature/

Foreshadowing in Literature

Foreshadowing in literature is used to create suspense or mood, to hint at upcoming events or plot twists, or to reveal important character traits. Foreshadowing can be created by the narrator or the characters themselves, through descriptions and dialogue. Foreshadowing can also be created by shifting the plot structure of a narrative and using flashbacks or flash-forwards to relay important information about past or future events to the audience.

10 Examples of Foreshadowing in Literature

To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee

“The weather was unusually warm for the last day of October. We didn’t even need jackets. The wind was growing stronger, and Jem said it might be raining before we got home. There was no moon. The street light on the corner cast sharp shadows on the Radley house… We turned off the road and entered the schoolyard. It was pitch black.”

Scout’s description of her and Jem’s journey to the school for the Halloween pageant creates a mood of suspense and fear, foreshadowing the fateful events that will come later. The night is very dark with no moon; the only shadows come from streetlights which cause shadows on Boo Radley’s house, the source of the neighborhood children’s legends and fears. Scout and Jem are having a difficult time walking to the school because it is so dark, and Jem didn’t bring a flashlight because he didn’t realize it would be so dark. When they leave the pageant, they are the last ones out of the school, and the night is even darker. Footsteps follow the children, and eventually they are attacked by Bob Ewell who finally makes good on his threats to get back at Atticus for embarrassing him in court.

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

“A great event in my life, the turning point of my life, now opens on my view. But, before I proceed to narrate it, and before I pass on to all the changes it involved, I must give one chapter to Estella. It is not much to give to the theme that so long filled my heart.”

Pip narrates his tale from the present so most of the novel is told in a flashback format. Here, Pip is relating the turning point of his life, foreshadowing that there are many changes that are upcoming soon, right after he gets through discussing Estella again. The tone which Pip uses here to tell the reader about the upcoming events foreshadows that Pip’s relationship with Estella does not work out, and that the changes he undergoes aren’t necessarily pleasant ones.

The Cask of Amontillado by Edgar Allan Poe

“The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitely settled–but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong. It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given Fortunato cause to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my wont, to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my smile now was at the thought of his immolation.”

This chilling opening by the narrator, Montressor, to the audience reveals a terrifying foreshadowing of vengeance and murder for Fortunato. Montressor reveals that Fortunato has insulted him in a way that can never be forgiven, and he has decided to make sure that Fortunato will never insult him– or anyone else– again. He lays out in cryptic detail that he has managed to keep Fortunato from suspecting his true intentions, but that he has waited for the moment to get his revenge. This scene sets the mood of the story, and foreshadows Fortunato’s unfortunate untimely demise.

The Scarlet Ibis by James Hurst

“At that moment the bird began to flutter, but the wings were uncoordinated, and amid much flapping and a spray of flying feathers, it tumbled down, bumping through the limbs of the bleeding tree and landing at our feet with a thud. Its long, graceful neck jerked twice into an S, then straightened out, and the bird was still. A white veil came over the eyes and the long white beak unhinged. Its legs were crossed and its clawlike feet were delicately curved at rest. Even death did not mar its grace, for it lay on the earth like a broken vase of red flowers, and we stood around it, awed by its exotic beauty.”

James Hurst explores the psyche of brothers in this short story, which features the unnamed narrator and his younger, disabled brother named Doodle. Doodle was born with a weak heart, and was predicted to not survive, let alone be able to walk, run, go to school, or do anything else little boys are supposed to be able to do. The narrator makes it his mission to help Doodle overcome these obstacles, partly because of his own shame at having a brother who isn’t “normal.” Throughout the story, the color red is used as a motif to mirror Doodle’s own red appearance as a baby, and whenever he strains with physical exertion. The scarlet ibis itself symbolizes and foreshadows Doodle’s death. It is a bird that has traveled an unlikely journey far from its home in the tropics, much farther than it should have gone, and in death, it is still beautiful and graceful, with a curved neck and bent legs. This death scene of the ibis, coupled with Doodle’s fascination with the bird, foreshadow Doodle’s own death later on.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

“‘Poor Harry Jekyll,’ he thought, ‘my mind misgives me he is in deep waters! He was wild when he was young; a long while ago to be sure; but in the law of God, there is no statute of limitations. Ay, it must be that; the ghost of some old sin, the cancer of some concealed disgrace: punishment coming, pede claudo, years after memory has forgotten and self-loved condoned the fault.'”

In the second chapter of Stevenson’s cryptic novella, Mr. Utterson, Dr. Jekyll’s lawyer, is becoming increasingly worried about his client’s well-being. His friend Richard Enfield had already imparted a story to him about a man named Edward Hyde trampling a young child in the streets and paying £100 to avoid a scandal. The check he provided for the £100 was signed by Dr. Henry Jekyll. In these lines, Utterson is worried that Dr. Jekyll is being blackmailed by Mr. Hyde for some sin he committed many years ago; however, these words also serve as foreshadowing because Dr. Jekyll is in trouble because he has fallen in love with the darker side of himself that he repressed many years ago. This darker side is allowed to come out with a special potion as Mr. Hyde, which is slowly taking over Dr. Jekyll completely.

The Lord of the Flies by William Golding

“‘Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill!’ said the head. For a moment or two the forest and all the other dimly appreciated places echoed with the parody of laughter. ‘You knew, didn’t you? I’m part of you? Close, close, close! I’m the reason why it’s no go? Why things are what they are?'”

Simon has an imaginary conversation with a pig’s head, which the other boys have erected on a stick. It is covered with flies, and Simon begins to call the head “The Lord of the Flies.” The head’s conversation with Simon reveals that Simon is starting to understand the truth about what is happening to the young boys stranded on the island: there is no real beast that is chasing them. Instead, they are battling against each other. The true beast is inside them all, and it will destroy them. Simon’s conversation with the head foreshadows his own death, Piggy’s death, and Jack’s savage behavior which turns the rest of the boys against Ralph.

The Giver by Lois Lowry

“Almost every citizen in the community had dark eyes. His parents did, and Lily did, and so did all of his group members and friends. But there were a few exceptions: Jonas himself, and a female Five who he had noticed had the different, lighter eyes. No one mentioned such things; it was not a rule, but was considered rude to call attention to things that were unsettling or different about individuals.”

Jonas and Lily have just met Gabe, the newchild their father has just brought home to take care of until he is able to thrive better. Jonas and his sister Lily both notice Gabe’s eyes, and how rare they are in the community. These eyes foreshadow something very special about Gabe and Jonas. In fact, the Receiver of Memory of the community also has the same pale eyes, and Jonas is later chosen to become the new Receiver of Memory. Their eyes connect the three in a way that is special and different from the community, especially as Jonas discovers that he can give memories to Gabe. This leads Jonas to form a strong connection to Gabe, and to save him from the community before they can “release” him, or send him to Elsewhere.

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

“‘I want you to take me to your cinema,’ Mariam said now. ‘I want to see the cartoon. I want to see the puppet boy.’

With this, Mariam sensed a shift in the atmosphere. Her parents stirred in their seats. Mariam could feel them exchanging looks.”

Up to this moment in the novel, Jalil, Mariam’s father, and Nana, Mariam’s mother have been portrayed in black and white, good and evil. Jalil’s visits to Mariam are a saving grace from her mother, who treats Mariam with utter disdain. However, when Mariam finally makes a request from her father– and especially one to be seen in public with him– the atmosphere shifts and foreshadows that something has irrevocably changed in their relationship from this request. The next day, Jalil does not come to get Mariam, and she walks down to Herat. She soon discovers that her father is ashamed of her, and by leaving her mother’s kolba, she sends her into such a depression that Nana hangs herself.

The Monkey’s Paw by W.W. Jacobs

“‘It had a spell put on it by an old Fakir,’ said the Sergeant Major, ‘ a very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people’s lives, and that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes from it.'”

This section from Jacobs’ short story reveals both foreshadowing and theme for the story. The monkey’s paw is bewitched, and is intended to grant three wishes to three men. While Sergeant Major Morris is obviously perplexed by the paw and tries to warn Mr. White against using it, he also tells the White family that the intentions of the old fakir who put a spell on it was to show that people can’t interfere with fate. Mr. White wishes for £200, and while he receives it, it is because his son Herbert is killed in a machine accident at work. His next wish, to have Herbert back, results in a strange knocking at the door and Mr. White wishing for his son to be dead again. They know that the real Herbert would not have been at the door; they could not change their own fate.

The Lady or the Tiger? by Frank R. Stockton

“The girl was lovely, but she had dared to raise her eyes to the loved one of the princess; and, with all the intensity of the savage blood transmitted to her through long lines of wholly barbaric ancestors, she hated the woman who blushed and trembled behind that silent door.”

In this excerpt from Stockton’s cliffhanger short story, he uses foreshadowing to hint at what the princess’ choice will be. She comes from a line of semi-barbaric people, and her father, the King, is especially barbaric in his tournaments of judgment. The fact that the narrator continues to focus more time on these elements that are mixed in the princess’ bloodline gives a clear indication that she likely chose the door with the tiger and watched her lover being ripped to shreds rather than allow him to be happy with any other woman but herself.