#I am so behind but f it we ball and die like real men.

[mama-emeritus-i]

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)

Dove's Kinkmas Day 2

Phone Sex with Phantom Ghoul (Ghost)

CW: subby Phantom, Dom(ish?) reader, phone sex (duh), not ABO heat but like pretty close, Phantom is needy (oopsies), not spell checked or edited, a whiff of breeding, have I mentioned Phantom is needy?, nicknames on all ends (angel and pretty boy), this is all over the place. Still getting back in the groove <3, reader has F anatomy

WC: 879 words

Tag list is open still

Kinkmas Masterlist

I promise I'm catching up and getting my shit together lol.

It was Phantom's first time on tour. Obviously he had been away from home before but never for this long, and never this long without you.

Usually on the bus it was hard for anyone to get any privacy, let alone sexual relief. The only time any of the ghouls were able to was the occasional time they were put up in a hotel room or in the shower.

This was hard on Phantom especially since he was a newer ghoul, it constantly felt like all of his nerves were on fire. There was so much pent up feeling- he felt like a cup about to overflow.

The day they put everyone in a hotel, the first thing Phantom did was call you. His voice was so sweet, oozing with need for you.

"Angel... I miss you... Miss your hands on me"

It was easy to slip into what Phantom needed from you. One day he could bend you over the bed and fuck you til your legs didn't work, and some days he was just so filled with need for you that it was overwhelming. Today was the latter.

"Do you now?" As you spoke, you heard the rustling of him moving- presumably trying to get comfortable and take his pants off in one go. "What are you doing there pretty boy?"

At the nickname, Phantom continued to crumble. He sunk further into the shitty hotel pillows- his face flushing and heat shooting straight to his groin.

"Listenin' to you, Angel- we just got here. Called you as soon as I could."

You nod, relaxing into your own bed before putting the phone and speaker and resting it next to your pillow. You think for a moment on your next move.

"I'm glad you were able to. Imagine my hands on you, imagine how I would kiss you if I was there."

At just that, Phantom all but whimpers. He was waiting for you to tell him what to do, his phone shoved between his shoulder and ear as he ran his hands across his body, wishing it was you.

"You would feel so good against me. Want you to sit on my face, ride me, do whatever you want."

While Phantom always had your attention, his words caught your attention, sending heat straight down your spine in a way that made your thighs clamp together.

and he kept going.

"Wish you were here so bad, I'd eat your sweet pussy on every surface possible. When I get home... gonna bury myself so deep inside you and fill you so full-"

You stopped him, sitting up slightly, feeling your skin heat up at his words, but determined to make him fold first.

"Singing so sweetly for me. Go ahead pretty boy, let me hear just how much you want me."

Phantom wasted no time as he peeled off his pants and boxers, not even bothering to tease himself- using precum as a pseudo lube to pump his erection.

He should have minded his neighbors, but that was the lease of his worries now as he moaned and whimpered for you like some sort of Catholic rabbit in heat.

Usually you two took your time, teasing and foreplay, but tonight it was clear you two needed each other like y'all were made of air. Thankfully you were already in your pajamas, able to unceremoniously take the clothes on your lower half off (sleeping in pants is overrated.) and start teasing your core as you listened to Phantom.

"Hand's not as good as you- always feels so good to have you wrapped around my cock."

Phantom was thrusting into his hand, sweat starting to bead down his forehead as you finally started to run your fingers around and over your clit.

"I'll take such good care of you when you come back, pretty boy. Will do anything you want to make you feel welcome."

Your brain ran through ideas of what you could do for and to him as you started to pump two fingers into your cunt. It didn't feel like Phantom, your hands couldn't reach where his hands or cock could.

You two didn't say much for the next few moments, wrapped up in your own pleasures while listening to the other. It wasn't as good as the real thing, but the newness of the situation makes up for it.

"Angel... Angel... gonna cum. Can I? Please?"

The poor ghoul was on the verge of tears and an orgasm, pleasure threatening to crash into his body like a tidal wave. Thankfully tho, you weren't far behind.

"Go on... cum with me. Then when you're back you can cum on me."

That did it for him. With one final thrust into his hand, Phantom came with a tsunami of pleasure, eyes screwed shut as he decorated himself and the bed sheets with white streaks. He was loud and vocal, which sent you over the edge too. Waves of your orgasm rolled in like high tide, wracking your body, eventually calming down, leaving you both breathless.

The rest of the night was spent talking to each other about how everything was going, and eventually falling asleep on the phone... only to wake up to Sodo's noise complaint the next morning.

[holylulusworld]

Obedient

Request: A/B/O dynamic, where omega! reader just agrees to everything her Alpha (Bucky) says, no matter how embarrassing or humiliating it is. Arranged marriage set up. Please.... Huge fan of your angsts. (He's embarrassing her on perpose, because he just doesn't like her at all. But omega! reader is just so docile and just won't talk back cuz she's raised like that. I think AU would be better, but I'll let you decide that. Happy ending. You are great. Thank you so much.)

Pairing: Alpha!Mobster!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Characters: Alpha!Steve x Omega!Peggy, Omega!Natasha Romanoff x Alpha!Clint Barton Bruce Banner, Brock Rumlow (oh look he’s not the bad guy this time), Sam Wilson 

Warnings: angst, humiliation, degrading, collars, obedient omega, starving, implied smut, snippets of smut, heat, pain, abusive relationship, arranged marriage, shitty parents, medical treatments, Bucky being a shitty partner and asshole, suicidal tendency (I think?), mentions of violence, mentions of biting

Words: 2,8 k

A/N: This one took me ages as it was out of my comfort zone to write Bucky as an abusive alpha. Honestly, I was tempted to let Steve rip him apart limp by limp, but I saw this one as a challenge. I left the ending open as I could not write it as a happy ending, not with the way he treated her. Sorry.

Please be aware of the trigger warnings and do not proceed if any warning offends you! This is a warning not an advertisement!

Steve feels uncomfortable, just like Peggy when you kneel next to your husband or rather master as he likes to be called by you.

While Peggy uncomfortably shifts in her seat, tries to not glance at you kneel next to Bucky in your underwear wearing a collar calling you slut, Steve glares at his friend.

“What the fuck, Bucky! I thought you wanted to introduce your wife and mate to us, not embarrass her,” Steve finally grits out. He may be a mobster, a hard man on the outside but Steve never liked alphas treating their mate like a piece of meat.

“I did, Stevie,” Bucky pats his thigh and you sit on his lap, not meeting Peggy nor Steve’s eyes.

You should protest, scream at the way your husband treats you but raised to an obedient omega who gets punished for misbehavior you hold back the tears and swallow the tiny amount of pride you had left.

“This is bullshit, James,” Peggy angrily tosses her napkin onto the table when Bucky pushes you off his lap. He even tosses food to your feet, smirking as he simply has to snap his fingers to make you eat the food.

“That is enough, Bucky,” Steve gets up to pull his wife’s chair, holding out his hand. “I know you like to be the dominant part like to show your power but treating your mate like a dog doesn’t make you a tough man,” Steve grits his teeth, looking at you with pitiful eyes, “it makes you look pathetic.”

“I didn’t want to marry her, Steve,” pointing toward you Bucky scrunches up his nose. “Look at that pathetic little omega eating food from the floor like a dog.”

“Steve, I want to go, now,” Peggy already walks toward the door, giving you a sympathetic look before she backhands Bucky.

“She may not fight back but I am telling you that she deserves better than being forced to bear you and your behavior,” inhaling sharply Steve watches Peggy slap his friend’s cheek again. “You are the lousiest alpha I ever met, James Buchanan Barnes, you make me sick.”

Steve nods in agreement, not meeting his friend’s eyes he sighs deeply. “I thought you are a better man, Bucky. I’ll need a few days or weeks without you. Call Sam or Clint of you need anything.”

The moment the door slams shut Bucky falls onto the chair. He does not recognize you didn’t eat the food or that you suppressed desperate whimpers.

“Great, you ruined the dinner too,” Bucky spats. “Get up, on the bed and present. I will fuck my frustration out before I hit the club to meet a real woman.”

It’s always rough, fast, and without any pleasure for you. “At least you are a good fuck,” pushing off you Bucky slaps your ass, smirking as you dare not to move. “On your place, leave my bed.”

You hurry to leave the bed to lie on the tiny mattress he placed in front of the large window. All you own is a blanket and a pillow, so you cover your bruised body with the blanket to hide your face in the pillow.

“Next time, you’ll look happy,” Nodding you try not to anger your alpha. Your father’s strong hand, the conditioning on turning you into a perfect obedient omega do not leave any room for arguments. “I’ll be back in a few hours; you will stay like this.”

“Great you come to movie night,” Bucky exclaims. He is in a good mood. The last deal with Rumlow was a success and now he wants to watch a classic movie with Clint and Natasha who look at each other, not daring to say a word.

“What? Does she disturb you?” Natasha eyes you warily. She can see the sadness behind the fake smile while you kneel next to Bucky, not daring to move a muscle as you try to hide your pain. “She can go.”

“Steve wasn’t joking,” Clint finally chokes out. “I thought that you had a fight or something and that he told us you forced your wife to kneel on the floor during dinner was a bad joke.”

“I want to go, now,” Natasha will not stay any longer in the room watching you suffer. “Let the poor girl sleep, James. She looks like she’s about to pass out any minute.”

“Did you ever treat the girl with kindness, Bucky?” Clint can’t believe the man who used to be his paragon treats his wife like that. “I have to agree with Steve, this is just not right. Arranged marriage or not, Y/N is a human being.”

“Asshole,” Natasha adds walking toward the door, not waiting for her mate. “I’ll find a way to help the poor girl. I’ll call her parents.”

“What the fuck do you mean with that’s her purpose?” Steve balls his hands into fists, glaring at your father. “He’s treating your daughter like a dog and you have the guts to tell me that’s what you want?”

“She got raised to become an obedient omega, Mr. Rogers,” your father explains, not intimidated by Steve’s demeanor. “James wanted an obedient omega, he got one. Everyone is happy.”

“Everyone but your daughter,” Natasha grits out while Peggy tries to talk to your mother. “Mrs. Y/L/N, please. We need to find a way to get Y/N out of the cycle of obedience. She looks sick, thin, and sad.”

“She will not answer you, omega scum,” your father dares to say and Steve’s hand twitches. “Now out of my house and stop acting as if it’s a crime to treat an omega as she deserves.”

Steve must hold Natasha back, grabbing her wrist carefully as she was about to slap your father’s face.

“Don’t, Nat. You know he has enough power to let all of us disappear. I just thought the great Y/F/N is a better man, someone to look up,” Steve shakes his head. “You’re all the same…”

“Any ideas?” Peggy sighs looking at Clint who tries to find anything in the papers your father signed to seal your fate. “Clint?”

“Nothing, Peg’s,” Clint sighs deeply. “The contract, the papers, and marriage are ironclad. There is nothing I could do.”

“This can’t be true, alpha,” Natasha looks over her mates’ shoulder, sighing as he points at the papers. “There is nothing we can do to help her?”

“We could just kidnap, Y/N,” silence fills the room as Steve quirks a brow at Sam who was silent the whole time. “Sam, anything from you?”

“I still got the keycard to his house,” Sam steps closer to the table now, looking at the papers. “We go in, get the girl, and are out without Bucky noticing us. Of course, someone needs to lure him and his men out,” Sam ends his plan and Steve nods, liking the idea.

“Alright, it’s settled then,” Steve clears his throat, pointing toward Rumlow who watched the scene, an amused smirk on his lips. “Will you help us or just grin like the cat that got the cream?”

“I hate to admit I like your plan, Wilson,” Brock smirks, eying Natasha’s ass shamelessly. “I like omegas, like when they are soft and obedient just like I love a feisty wildcat scratching my ass,” now he gets up to crack his neck. “But I do not like someone treating an omega like a dog. Let us fuck Barnes over.”

“We got a problem,” Rumlow whispers watching the guards open the gate to let Peggy in. “According to my information, Barnes is out of the house for at least three days. No reason for me to lure him out. What’s with the plan now?”

“They let Peggy in, Brock. Don’t pee your pants yet,” Sam muses pointing toward Peggy walking into Bucky’s house. “She’ll fake an emergency, the guards will check on her, while Steve, Clint, and Natasha will use the back entrance to get Y/N out.”

“Shit did Barnes make her kneel next to the table and dropped food on her,” Brock blinks as Sam reluctantly nods. “Such an asshole calling me a jerk. Who fucked with Barnes's brain, dude?”

“Can you not talk the whole time,” Steve groans via intercom. “I can hear you the whole time. Check on the guards and Peggy. Tell us when it’s time to,” Sam yells ‘now’ and Steve picks the lock to sneak into Bucky’s house.

“Y/N, hello,” Natasha can smell your distress before she can see your weak form. Lie on the makeshift nest on the ground you shake in pain. “Fuck, Steve she’s in heat. God, we need to get Barnes.”

“No,” it is a silent whimper leaving your lips when you shake your head until you feel dizzy. “He’ll not help me, refuses to knot me,” close to drifting into unconsciousness you give Natasha a weak smile. “Let me die, please. I don’t want to live like that, but I do not know anything else.”

Tears spill out of your eyes when you lose consciousness right when Clint sneaks into the bedroom. “We got to go, guys. Grab the girl and run!”

“Y/N said she rather dies than living like that, guys,” Natasha sniffles. “How fucked up is James Barnes to refuse to help his mate during her heat? That asshole didn’t even knot her as any alpha would.”

“We got no time to discuss Bucky is the asshole of the century. Let me get her and we bring her to a hospital,” Steve carefully covers your body with a blanket before he cradles you in his arms. “Lead the way Clint, Sam we are on our way, need back-up and the car. Y/N is in heat and it’s life-threatening.”

“I am on it, Brock already storms toward the,” Sam groans, “gate. Too late he’s taking Bucky’s men down, laughing like a mad man.”

“Got it,” Steve walks toward the door, followed by Natasha who tries to hold back the tears when her mate grasps for her hand. “We’ll help you, darling.”

“I sedated her, gave her something to ease the pain,” Bruce explains. “Her fever is still too high for my liking, but I got it under control. Did she eat lately?”

“We don’t know,” Peggy chokes out. “According to Brock’s information, Bucky was away for like three days.”

“I assume she hasn’t eaten for one or two weeks, at least not properly,” Natasha gasps while Steve prefers to ram his fist into the wall. “Her condition is still life-threatening, but I hope we can bring the fever down.”

“Can we see her?” Peggy pleas but Bruce shakes his head, sighing deeply. “We will wait then, right Steve?”

“We will wait and help her find a place to be after she recovered,” Steve declares. “Whatever we have to do to stop James' abuse.”

“Count me in, Rogers,” Brock smirks. “Whatever I can do to piss Barnes off floats my boat.”

“She’s my wife, let me pass!” Bucky yells through the hallway, gritting his teeth. He has Bruce pressed against the wall glaring at the man saving your life. “Where is she?”

“Intense care, Mr. Barnes. We still do not know if she is going to survive her heat. She starved too, this adds to her bad condition, followed by your treatment,” Bruce is, by all means, no coward, so he purses his lips, glaring at the mobster.

“Starving? No, she got food,” Bucky gasps. “Maybe she forgot to eat while I was away over the last three days?”

“I must tell you your wife,” spatting the word ‘wife’ Bruce clenches his fists hard enough to hurt, “starved for more than two weeks, maybe even longer. She must have barely eaten anything. If not for Mr. Rogers and his friends, she would be dead by now.”

Bucky drops his hands, nodding silently as he steps back to make space for Bruce to leave. “I must ask you to not be that loud at the hospital. If you at least could show some decency and leave the poor girl alone after almost letting her die, I would be grateful,” Bruce walks off to talk to Steve and Peggy about your condition.

“Doll,” Bucky whispers sneaking into your hospital room. His eyes widen at the sight of you. Barely breathing, IV at your arm you lie on the hospital bed, not opening your eyes. “Shit, omega.”

Feeling like someone stabbed his heart Bucky steps closer to your bed, carefully reaching out to stroke your hair.

His claiming mark, the one he left after your wedding is a reminder of the way he treated you. It’s messy, too deep and barely healed as he repeatedly bit you to remind you of your place.

“Doll, m’ sorry,” Bucky whines now, sitting on a chair next to your bed. “I hated you for messing my bond with Dolores up, Y/N. I wanted to claim her but that’s no excuse for hurting you.”

“What do you want here?” The door flings open when an enraged Steve Rogers enters your hospital room. “Didn’t you do enough? Do you want to end her right here to get your precious Dolores back?”

“Stevie, I didn’t mean to,” Bucky gasps when his best friend wraps his hand around his throat to slam him into the wall. “Steve…”

“No more Stevie, you monster. Do you know what she told Natasha,” Steve grits out as Bucky struggles against his hold. “Y/N preferred to die, Bucky. That girl over there chooses death over a life with you.”

“She…did?” Coughing Bucky falls to the ground when Steve lets go of him. He’s nervously running his fingers through his hair, pacing as he doesn’t know if he shall attack his friend again or just shove him out of your room.

“H…hello,” voice hoarse you blink your eyes open when your alpha hits the nearby wall. Steve just threw your mate across the room; not caring Peggy screams his name. “S…Steve?”

“We are here, darling. Do not worry,” Natasha whispers as you slowly sit up, looking at your alpha who crawls toward your bed.

Bucky gasps when you flinch away, not daring to meet his gaze. “m’ sorry for leaving the house. I swear I did not want to. I was not conscious when they brought me here. Please,” Steve blinks a few times when you start crying. “I’ll be good, daddy….”

“Why is she calling you daddy, Buck?” Ludicrous your mate shakes his head. “I don’t know, Steve. She never said much to me, to be honest.”

“Y/N,” Natasha tries again but you curl into a ball, whimpering silently. “Please, no more punishment,” your desperate sobs let Bucky get up to rush to your side.

“Doll, I am not your dad, it’s me, Bucky,” purring he tries to gently cup your cheek but you shake in fear. “Shhh, I’ll not hurt you, Y/N. You need to look at me and count to ten to calm.”

Weakly lifting your head you look at Bucky who counts for you. “1,” you take a breath, “2,” another breath and you feel lightheaded, “3 just like that,” Bucky praises while Steve runs out of the room to call for Bruce.

“She’s confused, disoriented and called Bucky ‘daddy’, Bruce. I think she’s…I dunno,” Steve watches Bucky sit on your bed to run one hand carefully over your hair.

“Just like that, doll. Look at me, no one is going to punish you, okay,” nodding you sniffle silently while Steve’s heart clenches in his chest.

“They’ll know you are not satisfied with me,” more tears run down your face when you hide it in the pillow.

“I am the one to blame, not you Y/N,” whispering the words Bucky grasp for another blanket to cover your still shaking body. “I’ll do anything to make you feel better, promised. Please, give me a chance.”

“Bucky, she’s confused, on strong meds to suppress the symptoms of her heat and starved,” Steve grabs his friends’ arm, tries to get him out of your room.

“If you want her to get better and start to act like an alpha, leave her alone for a few days. Let Peggy and Nat take care of her and if Y/N is willing to give you a chance, we will tell you so.”

Two weeks later…

“I think I am ready to talk to him,” whispering the words you look up at Steve and Peggy.

“What will you do now?” Peggy asks helping you into the chair to watch out of the window. “Y/N?”

“I don’t know yet, but I can’t let him do this to me again,” voice trembling you feel Peggy’s hand on your shoulder.

“Whatever you will decide to do, Steve and I will help you figure things out,” you nod, hearing the door open as Bucky silently walks into the room. He looks as if he did not sleep, eat, or shower for weeks.

“She’s ready to talk to you,” Steve says walking toward the door. “If she decides to go, we will take her with us.”

Nodding Bucky steps closer, looking at you before he kneels next to you, not saying a word he whines low in his throat. “I’ll do anything…”

Part 2

Request Tag

@an-awkward-human-1

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[an-anaemic-pen]

Dance of the Little Swan I.iii

Dance of the Harpy

Prelude || Overture

Summary: The Jötnar were thought to be long-since-gone within the mortal realm. Amidst all of her fakery, Mommy Fortuna holds Loki, trapped in birth from and far from what he once considered home, as well as another little treasure: a swan maiden.

(Yes, this is a crossover, but the Last Unicorn is fairly minimal plot-wise and it’s largely a Loki fic)

Relationships: F/M (Loki/Original Female Character, Molly Grue/Schmendrick)

Rating: M (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Sexual Content)

Loki’s skin had returned to its usual color after a few days.

The little girl attracted much attention, and Mommy Fortuna was making quite a profit—not that Ceana even  knew anything about how the hag handled her money. The only thing she knew was that Mommy Fortuna looked something brushing against happier than usual and Ruhk had asked for a raise.

They’d been carted across the land for about a week since she and Loki had last spoken.

One night, Ceana had woken up to find his crimson eyes watching her  far  too intently.

She had not slept as well since.

The carts were rattling down a dirt path between two of the larger towns. Out of nowhere, there was a loud screech.

Ceana’s gaze bolted upward. In the cloudy evening sky, she saw a silhouette; the most terrifying silhouette she could possibly imagine. Of course, she’d heard of the harpy in tales, but never imagined she’d come across one in real life.

She was circling the caravan like a hawk, her eye beedy.

By work of the witch’s magic, the cloak, pinned at the tip of her cage, fell down in one movement. Ceana was left in darkness. The cage rattled more as the horses grew uneasy.

Anticipation was pressing against her being. Her heart was pounding, and she sat frozen, barely able to breathe as she waited for the attack. Harpies had keen senses of smell, didn’t they? Could she smell Ceana beneath the covering?

It did not matter, Ceana knew, because the Jötunn would most certainly find her to be a perfect meal.

The harpy cried out, and adrenaline spiked her system.

Ceana squirmed around the prison, desperately reaching out in an attempt to grab the covering and see what was going on. She was able to lift it up enough to see the front of the caravan was—

Still?

It had halted, her cart stopping not long after. She heard another cry, a loud crash, and the splintering of wood. Ceana rushed to the other side of her prison, looking to the back of the caravan.

The giant creature had landed atop Loki’s cart, her sheer mass breaking the roof of his prison. She spread her wings, knocking the cart over as she lifted off. Ceana covered her cage, curling up in a ball and wrapping her arms around her head.

Smaller prey would surely not be as enticing as the horses, who were far more substantial than she. If she had the luck to escape the harpy alive, perhaps she could escape Loki without losing a limb, as well. Ceana hoped her luck could hold out for that long, especially after being so poor for the period of time she had been imprisoned.

It felt like the horse was attempting to break free of his holds. Ceana’s cage fell from its base, knocking her to the ground. She could feel her body bruising as she slammed against the metal.

The world outside her dark little haven was muffled havoc. She could hear grunts and garbled yells, they were Ruhk’s, she realized, as well as Mommy Fortuna calling out spells. A grotesque squelch entered her ears as the witch’s voice was rather abruptly cut off.

Chills ran along her entire body. Ceana felt faint.

“Awaken, swan.”

Ceana did not wish to. The world of sleep was quiet and warm, and she did not have to deal with the poking hands of those in the crowd. An icy palm touched her shoulder, and Ceana’s eyes flickered open. She lurched away from the freezing touch, banging her head against something hard.

“Stay still, lest you wish to die,” the voice was demanding, yet also surprisingly gentle.

After a few moments of awkward half-staring and much blinking, Ceana was able to get her eyes to focus. The clouds had cleared to reveal the sun. The blazing sunset framed him, the orange a sharp contrast to his blue skin.

Ceana was still inside her cage, and her cloak felt like it had been draped over her form.  He has seen me, then.

She stared at him with wide eyes as he reached through the door of her cage, which looked to have been forced open since the lock was broken, and flinched when he touched her. He had not done so since the ship, and she expected his palm to be cold, but it felt…  normal —if that was the correct phrase.

Ceana did something at least akin to relax when he next spoke. “You are hurt,” he said.

Ceana’s eyes followed his arm to where he was lifting her shin to inspect it. Only now did she notice the large scrape across her skin and realize how much it hurt. Her head panged and she carefully lifted her hand.

Her arm didn’t hurt outside the dull ache caused by a bruise, and she gingerly felt the pain on her head. Thankfully, it was just a bump; her mother had always called them goose-eggs. The memory made her smile softly—she missed her family.

Loki ripped off a large section of the cloak and Ceana yelped in surprise; he flinched at the volume of her voice. She immediately held the remaining cover closer against her.

“Must you  scream  when I am trying to  help you?” He proceeded to grab her leg.

When Ceana attempted to kick him, he simply gripped her tighter. She struggled against him with all of her might—not that there  was  much. So, he grabbed her foot with his free hand, pinning her against the cold metal of the cage.

“Don’t eat me!” Ceana yelped and tried to scramble back. She had been hoping she would sound threatening, or at least defensive, but it came out as more of a plea.

He barked out a laugh. “Perhaps I won’t if you sit still.”

The ‘perhaps’ was all it took for her to be subdued. She hadn’t been eaten by the harpy, so perhaps her luck would hold out.

“Good.” He wrapped her lower leg in the scrap of cloth, tying it tightly enough that it wouldn’t come loose, but not so tightly that it was uncomfortable.

Then, he offered her his hand.

Ceana looked at it, half dumbfounded that she was still alive.

“Would you like me to leave you in the cage to starve?”

Ceana only had half her mind when she answered: “no.”

“No,  Your Highness.”

She bit her lip. He  had just helped her, as he said he would. “No, Your Highness.” She wrapped the cloak around her as best as she could before hesitantly taking his hand. Against his blue palm, her hands appeared even smaller and more delicate.

Loki hoisted her up, one hand holding hers while the other wrapped carefully around her waist. Ceana couldn’t tell whether it was to help support her and keep her body covered by the cloak, or to have an excuse to touch her. Perhaps it was both? She didn’t know much about mortal men, let alone  Jötnar.

Once she was safely out of the cage, Loki released his grasp. Ceana noticed him avert his gaze and she took the chance to rearrange the cloth into a makeshift dress of sorts. She grabbed the covering of her cage, splayed out across the grass in a disheveled heap, and wrapped it around her shoulders as an extra layer.

Then, she heard a quiet sob.

It wasn’t coming from Loki, of course, but from the general direction he was standing in, relative to Ceana. She took a few steps towards the noise, limping slightly as she went.

  “You’re welcome.”

She raised her hand dismissively. Ceana knew she’d probably pay for that later, but she felt a maternal urge rise from somewhere within—gods only knew where—and she  needed  to find what was causing that sound.

She heard Loki not-so-subtly mutter “ungrateful wretch,” but she ignored it.

Ceana attempted to hurry her pace, and her foot got caught in the cloak’s trailing hem. She tripped, tumbling to the ground most ungracefully. The grass swished as someone walked past her. Then, the sobbing grew louder.

By the time Ceana was able to gain her footing again, the Jötunn had wrangled a small being from a cart’s wreckage and was carrying the screaming thing over to her. She realized it was the little girl, who was currently trying desperately to free herself from the tight grasp of the Jötunn.

He shoved the child into her arms and Ceana attempted to comfort her. When the screeching thing wouldn’t relax in her arms, Ceana put her down on the ground. She only had a minimal amount of experience with human children—her younger sisters were in swan form until they fully matured.

“Hey, hey, hey.” She began to shush the child—Annie, she decided to call her—and gently put her hands on the little one’s shoulders. “I’m not going to hurt you.���

Ceana glanced behind her. Loki was rummaging through the dead body that once belonged to Ruhk, his hands getting covered in blood as he sifted through the carnage.

Ceana opted to turn Annie around so the already-traumatized child would not see, shifting, so she was still in front of her. Then, she reached out, wiping away the tears streaming from Annie’s big blue eyes. Her hair was strawberry blonde, and she looked as she had before Mommy Fortuna had cast the illusion.

Ceana assumed that the old hag had gotten what she deserved.

“I know I’m not your mamma, but I can take care of you until we find her.” Ceana did not even know if the poor girl had a mother.

Annie seemed to begin to realize that Ceana was not going to hurt her, and ran into her arms, burying her face into Ceana’s chest.

She smiled softly, running her fingers through Annie’s tangled hair and picking out wood chips. The fact the girl had managed to survive with a just a few scrapes and bruises was a miracle, and Ceana found herself thanking the gods.

She glanced at Loki, who had moved on to another one of Mommy Fortuna’s henchmen.

Now that her racing heart was beginning to start the process of slowing down, Ceana realized that she felt…  free.  She had not felt that way since Mommy Fortuna had taken her feather.

Her sisters never told her about their hearts feeling confined after they were married. If she ever saw them again, she would have to ask them.

The feeling of freedom did not last long, however. She could hear Loki looting the bodies as Annie’s sobs quieted and the little one fell asleep. Annie was not at all heavy, but it felt like a moose had settled its weight upon her chest, and Ceana had to catch her breath for a moment.

She turned to the Jötunn. He was smiling.

He held up a woven garment of twigs which Ceana had used to make an armband; a small tail feather had been attached before she turned for the first time. Now, the feather was broken, snapped in two and barely hanging together where it was still held in one piece.

Loki walked up to her. When she tried to take her feather, he snatched it away. “For now, little swan, you are  mine.”

Her sisters had told her marriage was a wonderful thing. It was part of the legend—as long as the swan maiden put her feather out, a good, loving man would find it and become her husband. She would be bound it him, but he would be good to her. It was a fair trade, Ceana had thought. A male counterpart of her kind did not exist, so it was necessary for the maidens to find husbands.

But her feather had not brought her a good husband—it had not brought her a husband at all, and now, she was bound to a Jötunn who claimed he was the God of Lies. The weight over her heart told Ceana that Loki would  not  be good in any way.

“Come, swan, we must leave.” It was practically a purr. He knew the power he now held, dangling it over her head like a piece of bait.

Ceana pulled Annie against her, picking the child up and cradling her as she stood. Loki, thankfully, helped her up, but Ceana tore her arm from his grasp. The little child did not stir.

“We must find a brook to clean your wound. While you were addling about hugging that thing, I found the food supply and packed as much as I can carry.”

“Am I not going to carry it,  Your Highness?”  Ceana wasn’t exactly sure as to where the snark had come from, or why she was asking in the first place.

“You are  weak,  and it would slow us down. Do you recognize this area?”

She did not want to answer him. So, she didn’t. The legend dictated that she could not leave him, but she did not have to obey his every command, either.

“Speak,  unless you want me to make you my next meal.” He bared his teeth.

Her heart skipped a beat, and Ceana held onto Annie a little tighter. “No, I don’t know where we are.”

“Address me with my given title.”

“No, Your Highness.”

“The entire sentence.”

“Are you serious?”

“Do not question me,  swan—”

“Your Highness, you  are  aware that I have a name, correct?”

He scoffed. “Of course, Ǣsbiǫrndóttir. I merely figured you would not wish to grow too…  personal.” He cupped her face with his hand, his thumb running over her lower lip and sending icy relief to it. She could feel how swollen it was near the corner, most likely from accidentally biting herself while tumbling around in the cage.

It felt oddly intimate to have a hand cupping her cheek, so Ceana turned away. He lowered his hand, eyes glowering, and began to walk towards the sun.

Ceana decided to make the best out of a bad situation. “Do you plan on traveling all night? It would be best to remain here until the morning.”

The Jötunn looked at her, pondered, then spoke. “Very well. Find a place to put the child, then set up a camp while I will go collect wood. We leave at dawn.” Then, he walked away.

It was a small fire, but the Jötunn, no surprise, stayed far away. Annie was still sound asleep, curled up amidst one of the covers. Loki had been kind enough to drag all of the bodies into one of the largest coverings, wrapping them up so they were out of sight. He said he would set them alight once they left.

Ceana was unlucky to have seen the remains of the witch. She now stared at the fire, trying to burn the image of the blood and various gore-ish organs out of her memory.

“What do you know of this place?”

Ceana looked up but said nothing.

“It was not a request, swan.”

Her lips pursed and she sighed in annoyance. “Not much, Your Highness.”

“I require the  actual information,  not a rough amount.”

Her eyebrow cocked, and Ceana blinked. “The way these people talk tells me that we are in Scotland. I would say we are somewhere in the highlands.”

“Is there anything else?”

“I know a few tales that are common across the land, if you would like to hear them.”

He seemed genuinely interested. Ceana did not believe him. “What creatures do you know of?”

She thought of every story she had heard while in the colder months, when she migrated south to stay with warmer weather. “I’ve heard of the Loch Ness Monster, Kelpies, and Selkies many times, as well as the Sídhe and spirits known as Fuathan. More uncommonly, I’ve heard of the three Siths, and only a couple of tales of the unicorn and the Sluagh.”

“Tell me of these creatures.”

“The Loch Ness Monster is a serpent-like monster. Not much is known about her other than her location. Kelpies are water spirits that appear as horses, luring their victims to ride them, then taking them off into the waters to drown them. Selkies are similar to those like myself, except they are seals, rather than swans, and the Sídhe are little humans the size of my smallest finger with wings, known for their work of mischief. I believe Fuathan are spirits in general, as I have not heard them be specified.”

“What of the three Siths? Are they something akin to the Nornir?”

Annie stirred and Ceana placed her hand lightly on the girl’s upper arm, soothing her back to sleep. She shook her head when Annie relaxed again. “The siths are three phantoms, unrelated other than the fact they all hail from the highlands. I do not know what their individual names are, but they are malevolent spirits.”

“What do you know of the Unicorn?”

Ceana blinked and followed Loki as he got up from the makeshift cloak he had made from one of the coverings—which Ceana, of course, was tasked with carrying when he grew too hot—and threw a plank of wood on the fire. He hissed when a wayward ember landed on his leg. He flicked it away and stalked back to where he had originally been, settling down on his cloak.

“Unicorns are rare creatures. They can only be seen by other magical creatures and pure-of-heart virgins. They hold rejuvenating magic unlike any other, and even the smallest amount of dust from a crushed horn can cure any illness or curse.”

“And the Sluagh?”

Chills ran down her spine. She had only heard one tale of the Sluagh, from an estranged man at the coast on her first migration being able to turn human. She and her sisters were resting on a beach when she turned into a maiden, walking around and growing more adjusted to her arms and un-webbed toes.

She’d run into the man, who didn’t seem to notice that she was completely uncovered, and he had gripped her by the shoulders desperately. “Beware the Sluagh,” he’d said, “vicious, vicious things, the restless dead coming from the west. You won’t make it out alive—not a pretty thing like you. No, the strongest warriors barely escape their hunger.”

Ceana had taken his shaking hands in hers. “Hunger?”

He’d leaned in so close their noses brushed against each other. “Flesh,” he’d whispered. “Warm, soft, human flesh.” He’d collapsed after that.

Ceana had promptly called her sisters and her mother, who had come with them. She’d pronounced him dead, and they’d flown off after that.

Ceana had not seen any Sluagh. Or perhaps she had and just hadn’t realized it; the man hadn’t exactly told her what they looked like.

“They are vicious flesh-eaters, Your Highness. Only the strongest of warriors barely escape them.”

“Flesh-eaters?” He barked out a laugh. Ceana briefly wondered as to why a supposed god’s laugh was so harsh. “I suppose every land has their legends.”

“You do not believe they are real?”

Loki sighed and lay down on his back. He absent-mindedly played with the broken feather, still attached to her armband. As if on impulse, he ripped the feather from the twigs and threw the woven article into Ceana’s lap. “You may keep that part; I have no use for it.”

“You did not answer my question, Your Highness.”

She barely noticed his crimson irises flicker in her direction. “I am a prince of the Nine Realms, girl,  I answer to none.”

She licked her lips, only then realizing how thirsty she was.  It will have to wait.  She didn’t want to leave Annie alone with the creature who might still eat both of them.  Power in numbers. She settled down, wrapping her cloak around her body like a cocoon and closing her eyes. She tried to ignore the innate and unmistakable sense that she was being watched.

[storiesforallfandoms]

living dead ~ damon salvatore;the vampire diaries

word count: 2563

request?: no

description: when his friend falls ill and is thought to be dead, damon lives for centuries with the guilt of never admitting his true feelings for her, until he finds out she wasn’t completely dead

pairing: damon salvatore x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

She saw him coming up the walkway before anyone else. She recognized him even before she could see his face. She raced out of the house as quick as she could to meet him halfway, jumping into his arms and nearly knocking him over. Damon chuckled as he squeezed his best friend.

“I didn’t know you were here,” he said.

“Mother and I arrived yesterday,” she responded as Damon set her down. “I didn’t know you were discharged!”

“I didn’t tell anyone, not even father or Stefan. I wanted it to be a surprise when I arrived home. I had no idea I’d be the one who was also surprised. Are father and Stefan home?”

(Y/N) smiled brightly and took Damon’s hand in hers, pulling him into his own house as if he were the guest. When the front doors closed behind her she announced, “Mr. Salvatore! Stefan! Mama!”

Her mother was the first to come at her call, reminding her daughter, “(Y/N), I told you it is not lady like to yell!”

“But mama, it’s Damon!” (Y/N) said as her mother descended from the stairs.

Following closely behind was Stefan, the youngest Salvatore, who quickly raced down the stairs and into his brother’s arms. Mr. Salvatore was last, and he didn’t look as enthusiastic about his eldest son’s return.

“Hello Damon,” he said once Stefan stepped away. “What are you doing home so soon?”

“I was discharged, I wanted to surprise you,” Damon responded, trying to smile.

“Are you home permanently then?”

Mr. Salvatore was practically glaring at his son, which angered (Y/N). Mr. Salvatore could never be proud of his sons, or happy when they were around. He had to always be upset, to find the bad in every situation, to always make Stefan and Damon feel as though they were in the wrong for everything.

“I hope he is,” she spoke, drawing all the attention to her. “I’ve missed him around. It’s been so boring here without him.”

Damon and (Y/N) smiled at each other. Damon was grateful to have her there. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle his father, even with Stefan there.

Mr. Salvatore merely turned his glare to (Y/N) before addressing his son again, “We’ll have a special dinner to celebrate your arrival home. We will eat at 5:00 sharp, none of you be late.”

He turned to walk back up the stairs. (Y/N)’s mother smiled at Damon and welcomed him home before following Mr. Salvatore. The three youths were left, watching their parents go.

“I see he’s still a ball of sunshine,” Damon muttered.

“I think he has just gotten worse since you left,” Stefan responded. “It’s good to have you back, big brother.”

~~~~~~

Mr. Salvatore sat at the head of the table with (Y/N)’s mother on the other end. Stefan sat on one side by himself while Damon and (Y/N) sat side by side on the other. Dinner was, as to be expected, silent and tense. (Y/N) kept trying to make conversation, asking Damon about his time away. However, it would always end shortly after Damon’s answer as no one would pick up the conversation.

“So,” Mr. Salvatore said, breaking the silence, “Damon, your discharge, was it honorable or dishonorable?”

“Father,” Stefan said, his voice warning his father not to upset his older brother.

“Actually,” Damon said, ignoring Stefan, “I asked to be discharged. I was tired of fighting a meaningless war.”

Mr. Salvatore dropped his utensils, causing them to clatter on the table. (Y/N) jumped at the noise. His face was red with anger as he looked down at his plate. “You...abandoned the war?”

“I asked to be discharged, I left by my own accord,” Damon responded. “There was so much I saw, it wasn’t worth it to stay.”

“You disrespected my family because you did not like what you saw at war?” Mr. Salvatore hissed.

“This is my family, too, father,” Damon snapped. “And it seems you are the only one who feels disrespected. I did not wish to stay because staying meant either two things; going insane or dying.”

“I think I would rather you dead than tarnishing our name like this.”

“You vile, heartless man!”

The outburst from (Y/N) surprised everyone, including (Y/N) herself. But she had witnessed so much of Mr. Salvatore’s abuse for years and she was fed up with it.

“(Y/N),” her mother scolded.

“No mama, I am sick of the way Mr. Salvatore treats Stefan and Damon! All they do is try to impress you, and all you do is shit on them and treat them like dirt!”

“You better watch your tone, young lady, you are in my house,” Mr. Salvatore scolded.

“I do not give a damn about your house, or you! You are a wicked, heartless man, and you deserve to - ”

(Y/N) stopped suddenly. She clutched her chest as breathing became harder and harder. Damon, Stefan, and her mother jumped from their seats as she fell over. Damon took her head onto his lap and leaned down so his eat was over her mouth and nose.

“She’s not breathing,” he said. “Get help!”

~~~~~~

(Y/F/N) died the next night. Her mother refused to let any of the Salvatore men in to see her, insisting that she be the only one with her daughter in such a dire time. Damon begged her to let him see (Y/N) at least once, and sat outside her door until the news of her death.

A year later, the impossible happened and both Damon and Stefan became vampires. Damon lived for centuries with the guilt of his best friend’s death. Not that he had anything to do with her sudden illness, but he kicked himself for never admitting his true feelings to her. He wished he could’ve had at least one last moment to tell her before her untimely death.

Centuries later, Damon found himself in a much more modern Mystic Falls. While (Y/N) was definitely not forgotten, Damon had mostly moved on. He knew he shouldn’t be dwelling on her death for so long when he was going to live forever, so he tried his best to move on.

However, on one particular night, Damon was at the Mystic Grill with Stefan and a group of their friends when a familiar girl walked in. Damon’s eyes had crossed over her briefly, but then he quickly did a double take.

It was (Y/N).

Damon stood from the table before he knew what he was doing, drawing the attention of the group to him. He could hear his friends questioning what was wrong, but it sounded like their voices were muffled. The commotion caused her to look over at him and her eyes widened.

Next thing he knew, Damon was outside the Mystic Grill with his hand around (Y/N)’s arm, dragging her behind him. She yanked her arm from his grasp and rubbed the place he had been holding on to.

“You’ve gotten stronger,” she noted.

“You’re alive?” Damon questioned.

“Not really. I am dead, but just...living dead.” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “Seems as though you’ve figured that out, though, considering you are also still alive.”

“I didn’t fake my death!” Damon hissed.

(Y/N) stepped back, her eyes wide. “Careful Damon, you’re starting to sound like your father.”

Damon sighed an ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I am happy to see you, but you have to understand I thought you were dead for centuries. I’ve been grieving you for so long, I’ve gone years thinking that I would never be able to say a proper goodbye to you.”

(Y/N) sighed and looked down at her feet. “I know, I’m sorry. I tried to convince mama to let you come see me before my fake death, but she said it was too risky. She said there was a possibility that I’d change in front of you and then our cover would be blown and your dad would kill us. The only safe way for us to leave was for mama to tell you all that I had died.”

Despite her voice having changed to match that of modern times, she still had that slight accent that Damon remembered, causing him to remember the good days before she had “died”.

“Was your mom a vampire?” Damon asked. “I thought my dad had known her for some time, wouldn’t he had noticed she was never aging?���

(Y/N) shook her head. “She wasn’t my real mother. It’s...it’s a long story.”

“I have an eternity.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile slightly at this. She nodded for him to join her and the two began to walk away from the thumping music of the Grill.

“Well,” she started, “when I was born I was a very sick child. My parents were told that I had an illness building within me, and at some point it would take over me and I would die, most likely young. My parents were devastated as I was their only child, but the nurse that was looking after me told them that she had a way that I would survive, the only catch was that I’d stop aging before the illness could take me, meaning they’d never truly see me grow old. The news devastated them, but they’d rather I live than to lose me. The nurse, mama, she took me in. She had always wanted a child but couldn’t have one because of what she was, so she Glamoured my real parents to forget that I was their child. She took me in and raised me, keeping a close eye on me to make sure that my illness didn’t get the best of me before she could put her blood in my system.”

“Wait,” Damon said, stopping her. “Your mother...that woman...she took you from your family?”

“It was for their own good,” (Y/N) explained. “For their safety. When I changed, I was blood hungry. I was so wild that mama could barley keep me tamed. She was afraid that I’d expose myself, that I’d get myself truly killed. She knew that if I stayed with my human parents when I changed that I would’ve attacked them and killed them. It was for their own safety.”

“What about my father?”

“At first, she had no intentions of leading the lives that my real parents led, but soon people began to wonder what happened to me. They all knew my real mom was pregnant, but then suddenly my parents didn’t have a child and couldn’t remember having one. So mama Glamoured everyone to think that she was my mom, and that my real parents were a completely different couple. When she was Glamouring your father, I was old enough to walk and I met you. According to her we were infatuated with one another, and it broke her heart to break us up, so she decided to make it seem as though she shared the memories my real mother did with your father so that you and I could remain friends.”

Damon smiled. “Your mother was always better to me than either of my parents were. I’m glad she liked us enough to want to stick around.”

(Y/N) smiled, too. “I’m glad, too. I can’t imagine living life worrying about when my illness would catch up with me and when I’d have to be turned.”

Damon looked over at her. She didn’t look upset, more reminiscent, like even the memories of the times she was sick were good ones. “Did you know? About being sick and your mom, I mean.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah, when I got old enough she was very upfront about it all. It was hard to believe, the vampire stuff anyways, but she proved herself to me. It was scary, but I had the reassurance that she was there for me and that’s all I really needed.”

They walked in silence for a while. Damon wasn’t really sure what to say. What do you say to someone you thought had been dead for centuries? After taking so long to come to terms with her death, to finally try and start moving on, only to have her walk back into his life. It wasn’t something that had ever happened to Damon before, he wasn’t sure how to grasp all of this.

“I heard you outside my door those last two days,” she told him finally. “I heard you begging with mama to let you in, I heard you talking to me through the door in hopes that I’d hear you. I begged mama to let you in so I could say me goodbyes, but she said it was too risky.”

“She wouldn’t even tell us what was going on,” Damon said. “She just said you were sick, that you needed to be alone. And then, you were dead. It was...mortifying.”

(Y/N) stopped suddenly and turned to face Damon. “I am so sorry, Damon. I never thought...it didn’t occur to me how much this would’ve affected you. I thought...that you’d just move on.”

“I tried. I tried for so long. I didn’t really move on until a few decades ago, but even then it was hard to not see your face, to hear your voice. I regretted not being able to see you one last time. To tell you that I...”

The words trailed off. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at Damon. “What did you want to tell me? You have plenty of time for it now.”

This caused Damon to chuckle slightly, which brought a smile to her face. God, he had missed that smile so much. Damon looked down at the ground, knowing he couldn’t look (Y/N) in the eye as he spoke.

“I...I’ve loved you since we were young,” he admitted. Having the words out felt like a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. “I wanted to tell you for so long, I thought I had a long time to be able to tell you, but then you got sick and...I tried to get into that room to tell you, I wanted you to know before you died.”

(Y/N) looked at him in shock. She didn’t react for a long time, which worried Damon. He was sure he had ruined everything in that moment, centuries of loss and misery had been rectified and he was sure he had ruined it again.

But finally, she smiled and said, “What took you so long?”

Damon couldn’t help but sigh with relief, which turned into a laugh. “You mean, you knew?”

“No,” she responded, “but I’ve always liked you. I wanted to tell you, but especially after learning of my illness and what I was to become, I knew that I couldn’t. But, now we’re both immortal and we both have feelings for one another, so what do you think we should do about it?”

She was leaning into him. Damon wrapped an arm around her back, holding her to him. “Come back to the Grill and meet my friends. Tomorrow, I take you on a proper date.”

(Y/N) smiled brightly. “I’d love that.”

[buckthegrump]

Enchanted

Summary: Balls bore you half to death. And the suitors that come from across the lands seeking your hand in marriage all seem to have forgotten about human decency. Until one day it doesn’t seem so bleak. Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: legit pure fluff, swearing but what else is new

Word Count: 2029

A/n: I wrote this au a million years ago and now @sunmoonandbucky​ demanded that i post it rude so here it is.

The only thing you hated about being royalty were balls. Well, not the only thing, but they were at the top of the shortlist. They were always the same old thing. You were forced to dance with diplomats and princes from all different lands, some of them cute, but all of them had the same stick up their ass. Assuming that you would fall head over heels for them because they seemed to forget that you were in line for your own thrown and didn’t need theirs.

So you expected tonight to be the same; only today, your father was insisting that you find someone with whom you could at the very least tolerate. It was your mother’s birthday ball, and the two of them were getting worried because they didn’t think that any one person should rule on their own. They seemed to forget that they had gotten lucky when they found each other and almost instantly fell in love.

A ruler should have someone who knew them better than anyone else, someone who could help them see every aspect of their decision, someone who understood what they were going through. That and it was customary for a kingdom to have two rulers in fear that if only one person ruled, they would become a tyrant.

They had a point, but damn, every one of the “suitable” suitors made you want to volunteer to go dragon hunting. 

“But mama,” you protested as you walked behind her. She was telling you that your father was right and that if you didn’t find someone tonight that you could at least live with, they would choose for you.

“No, Y/n, I have heard the last of your protests.” She stopped walking abruptly and turned towards you. “Now I have invited new kingdoms from even further away. None of the boys coming tonight are in line for their own throne, so you can literally pick any of them.”

“The fact that you called them boys just now makes me apprehensive about this whole thing,” you said, and your mother sighed heavily.

“Fine, none of the MEN coming tonight are in line for their own throne. Now please put your father's mind at ease and just pick one.” She turned and began walking again.

“What if they are all the worst people in the world, and not even papa likes them?” You challenged, and she stopped and turned again this time with slightly more rage.

“Fine, if by some act of the universe every single one of the men,” she stressed that last word for you. “Is no better than that Duke of-”

“Troutdale?” You finished, and your mother audibly gags, a very unqueenly gesture, but no one but yourself was paying attention to her.

“Oh, don’t even say it.” She rolled her eyes. “Then yes, you can put off finding someone until the next ball, but you are running out of time, child.” 

You smiled as she stormed out of the grand hall. The servants were hard at work, rushing around getting everything done in time for the ball. You turned knowing that you can easily convince your father that every suitor that comes tonight was no good. It was your mother that you had to be more mindful of.

/

The ball was in full swing, and your mother looked less than pleased with you. You had turned away every single suitor that had come forward so far, which was somewhere around 10. Your father was still hopeful. He looked like he had a secret that he was hiding from you.

“Y/n, there’s someone I want you to meet,” He said, and you quickly found an excuse to get out of it.

“In a minute papa, I am famished.” You turned and rushed towards the food. You made it to the table and grabbed a goblet of wine and quickly down it. You turned, and from across the room, you see a man with bright blue eyes and even brighter smile who was laughing at something someone was saying.

The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and he gave you a nod to acknowledge he saw you and turned back to the conversation he was having.

“Did someone catch your eye?” You turned to see Taylor, your best friend, smirking at you.

“Oh hush now,” you glared. “He was just laughing, I’ve never seen anyone laugh at a ball before.”

“Well, that’s because you are never looking.” She laughed. “You’re always trying to run off every suitor that comes knocking at your door.”

She paused, and you grabbed another goblet of wine. “Go talk to him.”

You choked, and wine almost came out your nose. “Excuse me?”

“Go speak to him.” She took the goblet and whispered into your ear. “You might miss your chance.”

“Chance at what?”

“Just go,” She ordered as she walked away with your wine.

“Taylor,” you halfheartedly called after her. “That’s my wine.”

When you looked back to where he was standing, he was gone. You sighed, grab some food, and head back to your father to meet the next boy. Your mother had been wrong so far, all of the ‘men’ she promised had turned out to be spoiled boys.

“You are a very hard woman to track down,” Someone said behind you, and you turned to see the blue-eyed man.

“Am I an elk?” Your question seemed to shock him.

“Pardon?”

“Well, you said I was difficult to track down. Are you comparing me to the game that you hunt wherever you’re from?”

“Forgive me, allow me to introduce myself,” He bowed slightly. “Bucky.”

“Y/n.” You curtsied. “So, what brings you here?”

“My father is on business here, trying to get me to take up his trade.” He smiled and cocked an eyebrow. “And you?”

“My mother is trying to marry me off.”

“You don’t seem like the kind of lady who will be married off.”

“Not easily, no, much to her disappointment.” A prideful smile came across your face.

“Would you like to get out of here?” He stepped closer. “Just for a moment?”

You think for a second and glanced over to your parents who are queueing up the next suitors. “Yes.” You breathed.

Bucky offered you his arm, and you took it. He led you through the crowd and out of the hall.

“Where are you going?” Taylor asked you just as you were about to walk out the door. “Should I be concerned?”

“Just cover for me, ok? I’ll be back soon.” You pleaded.

“Fine, but don’t do anything stupid.” She said, letting you go.

/

“So, this is the first time out of your home country?” You asked him as the two of you walked down the moonlit path in the garden.

“Yes, until recently, my family was concerned,” he chose his words carefully. “They thought that if we left, then we would fall ill and never recover. How about you, is this your first time to Rosedale?”

“No, I live here.”

“Would you ever move away?” He looked at you.

“That’s not really an option for me. Would you leave your home?” You took a turn that led you to a swing where you take a seat, and Bucky remained standing.

“Well, I might, but that’s not really up to me either.” He smiled sadly.

“If you could stay, would you?”

“No, I would just like a say in the matter is all.”

“Ok, let’s talk about something else. What is the royal family like where you’re from?”

“Oh well,” he blew out air. “They are very kind for the most part. They have odd quirks about them that not everyone understands. And the King and Queen are rather paranoid, although there’s no real good reason as to why. What about here? What are they like?”

“Oh well, the King and Queen are fair enough. They try their best to make sure that everything is fair and equal, but that’s not always what people think it is.” You looked at him from the side of your eye. “But the princess is something else. She is very stubborn and rather impossible if you ask me or anyone for that matter.”

“That’s not what I heard.” 

You looked at him. Trying to keep your demeanor neutral. “What did you hear?”

“Well, I heard that she is very kind to those whom she trusts and likes. And that she isn’t impossible, she’s just protective of the ones she loves and herself.”

“You’ve been here a very short time to know so much.” You stood. “Shows you’re resourceful.”

“Well, I find that if you ask servants about the people they work for, they are quite honest. If you give them the right amount of money.” In the distance, the bells could be heard ringing marking the start of a new hour. 

“We should be getting back,” You said, he offered you his arm again, and you took it. 

The two of you walked back to the ball, occasionally talking about something or another. When you got back, Bucky dropped your arm and faced you.

“I have thoroughly enjoyed myself tonight. It was enchanting to meet you.” He lightly kissed your hand and disappeared into the crowd.

Taylor rushed up beside you and grabbed your arm. She started ushering you back towards your parents. “They kept asking me where you were, so I told them that you went to tend to a matter in the kitchen. I didn’t come up with the actual situation, so if they ask, that’s up to you. But they have a whole line of men for you to meet. None of them are as nearly as cute or charming as the one you were just with, so put on a brave face and shoot them all down.” She patted your hand. “You’re good at that.”

“Thanks, Taylor,” you deadpanned and walked back to your parents. 

“Ah, there you are Y/n,” your father held out an arm to you, and you walked towards him. “I trust that the situation in the kitchen has been dealt with?”

“Of course, father.” You plastered the fakest smile you can manage. 

“Great, because I have more people I want you to meet.” He gestured over to the line, and you at that moment, wanted to die just a little bit.

/

Your already dwindling patient was vanishing very quickly due to the amount of bullshit that was being said by the suitors your father was introducing, and much to your surprise, your mother, was agreeing with you.

“Truly Travis, the men you have chosen are abominable,” your mother said, not so quietly in between men.

“Well, Gladis, I doubt you could’ve done any better with the selection that we have tonight.” Your father tried to defend himself.

“You invited all of these families. I, however, only invited one, and I’ve known the mother since childhood.” Your mother smiled.

“Oh yes, well, not all of us had outgoing and charming parents,” your father said bitterly.

“Don’t I know it.” You blurt, earning a glare from your parents. “So mother, when is your ‘perfect fit’ going to introduce himself.”

“Soon,” she said with the look of glee still present on her face. “Very soon.”

You went through way too many suitors in the next half hour. Some of them weren’t even eligible, you were pretty sure your father was just grasping at a dream he wasn’t sure he could have any more. 

“Ahh, yes, here they come,” your mother said.

“Your grace, King, and Queen Barnes from Artendale.” 

“Gladis,” Mrs. Barnes said. “It’s been a long time.”

“Hopefully, next time will be in the near future,” You caught your mother winking at her.

“Shall we introduce our son?” The King asked. “James Barnes, Prince of Artendale.”

To your surprise, Bucky came into view, and you were at a loss for words. He smiled at you, and you return it.

“Princess,” Bucky said, and it almost sounded like a question.

“Prince James.” You could feel the pride radiating off of your mother. You hated to admit it, but she might have been right.

[nightcoremoon]

I scroll through tumblr and it's post after post after post of human rights abuses and "please donate to blah blah blah fund"

I honestly gotta say if I wasn't trapped in a prison of a dozen individual financial, physical, emotional, and psychological issues that all conflict and stack on top of each other, I'd just say fuck it and start doing actual shit that matters and achieves results. starting fires in locations holding lots of paper regarding legal stuff, investing in portable magnetic equipment to fry hard drives, disabling vehicles, stealing drugs and planting them elsewhere, investing in molotov cocktails to throw into crowds of nazis and homophobes and ice agents, making fake pipe or gas bombs to plant at republican rallies and inciting evacuations, amassing an arsenal of assault rifles to incite panic in the fascist overlords' safe spaces, destroy the anti-homeless spikes on city sidewalks, bring down a sledgehammer on the abortion propaganda, stick socks in republican car gas fuel valves and set them on fire, brick windows. fuck it, I'd kill members of the presidential cabinet if it was for the greater good. just... inhibiting all of that evil any way that I can.

there's a fucking reason why only progressives are killed. Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, John F Kennedy, Gandhi. good has standards. evil does not. superman throws lex luthor in jail a million times but every time luthor makes a bigger scheme that kills more innocents but ~superman doesn't kill because if he kills then he's just as bad~ BULLSHIT. letting evil men live to kill more innocents is just killing the innocents yourself. fuck you if you think that killing nazis is ~just as bad~ as killing jews. evil humans kill people for things that they're born as: black, muslim, gay... killing an evil human for the choices they make is incomparable.

frank castle, richard zelazny, ezio auditore... they're killers. and they'd be heroes if they were real. but they're not, because the people who claim to be good don't have the balls to do anything other than make signs and give a few dollars. they're lazy, selfish, spineless cowards more obsessed with focusing on their own lives than about making radical changes to this hell world sculpted for us by whatever you wanna call it. illuminati? freemasons? bilderburgs? whatever. it's complicity, empty shameless pats on the back for helping despite never doing a fucking thing. bigots aren't swayed by logic. they aren't swayed by nickels and dimes. they aren't swayed by any compassionate heartfelt speeches about the inherent goodness of man. they aren't swayed by thoughts and prayers and boyscouts holding hands to sing kumbaya. the intelligent bigots hate from a distance and seek information, like I did when I matured to an adult. the irredeemable garbage, the idiots, the inbred degenerate hateful unchangeable unswayable evil masses just need to be exterminated. they have to be afraid to exist as we're afraid to exist. but that'll never happen.

everyone wants to change the world but no one wants to die? close, gerard. many people want to die because of the tyranny, the hate, and the evil around us. nobody wants to kill. nobody wants to harm, to disrupt, to bother, to inhibit at all in any way shape or meaningful form. it's because we're conditioned by Them, by those powers that be, to fall in line like good little boys and girls. our signs and paltry donations are just distractions. they keep us complacent with the illusion that we're doing anything. but behind closed doors they're just making a new aids, a new gestapo, a new atom bomb, a new swine flu, a new ebola, a new weapon to use on us who don't fit their narrow view of the world.

none of us are willing to step out of line and do actual damage to their machines. nobody has the desire to put spanners in the cogs. nobody wants to bust nazi heads open and hospitalize them and then unplug their life support and leave a card that says "we aren't afraid to stand up for ourselves anymore" written in the blood of the nazi pig they slaughtered on that gurney. nobody wants to do that who has the capability to. only those of us victimized by all of these manufactured mental illnesses given to the poor through the chemicals in all the generic brand food, and then can't get into a college and get a degree to get a lottery raffle for a decent paying job where we can afford to do anything to help out those less fortunate than us, or aren't just carbon copy cookie cutter cishet white christians, we're the only ones who would even consider that as an option, and we can't because we all have mental illnesses that we can't afford to medicate or otherwise take care of and even if we could that's all tainted because the medical community doesn't want us fixed because then they lose profits. they don't give a shit about the hippocratic oath since only the rich can get into health anyway. we're just fucked any way you look at it.

and now pointing it out I'm probably gonna be put on a federal watch list and the FBI's hacker community will just filter my IP address through specific channels to ensure nobody sees this post because it doesn't show up on anybody's dashboard. that or they'll just plant cocaine in my car and pull me over next time I go to work then shoot me 5 times in the back and I'll go down as a statistic all because I dared to say on my private blogging website "man wouldn't it be cool if vigilantism existed in the real world and not just comic books and cartoons" since literal nazis are ruling the world now.

and you know what? either I'll die talking about fighting for the cause, I'll fade into obscurity having done nothing, or they'll activate some kill switch and make me commit suicide, or kidnap me and sell me in the black market. there is zero positive outcome here. the world is just evil and no amount of prayer or memes will ever fix it. it's irreparably broken. we can only stay alive long enough to hopefully help one person, keep ourselves happy and sane, and hope that there's an afterlife of some sort where we can actually live a life free of fear and hate. but that's just a fairytale pipe dream. we'll just die and that'll be the end of it. too fucking bad the gluttonous avaricious hateful swine running this shitshow have made it so I can't even enjoy the blink I'll have on this speck of mud encrusted with the virus of humanity.

...

Ha Ha I Am Just Kidding, Mr Federal Agency Spying On Me Because They Paid Off Yahoo, These Are Just Lyrics For A Punk Metal Band I Am Forming, I Have No Desire To Revolt At All. I Am Being Ironic And Joking. :) :) :) Everything Is Just Fine.

[padfootagain]

A Recipe For Love (IX)

Part 9 : The Second Christmas

Here comes a new chapter for this series! I have already written more than 70 pages for this story, can you believe it?

Hmm hmm… Cuteness and… troubles and… angst. Yeah… yeah, you'll probably hate me by the end of this chapter.

And we're coming close to an ending as well… I don't know how many chapters I'll add after this one but not so many I guess.

Anyway, I hope you like it :)

The beautiful aesthetic was created by @mxrihollxnd.

Word Count : 4731

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing yourself. Or well… your face was still the same but your hair was elegantly tied up in a bun, and your body was covered with a dress of satin that embraced your curves perfectly. Standing there in your bedroom, you stared at the complicated broderies, the silvery threads shining upon the dark blue dress. The fabric had almost the colour of the inky sky. You grinned to yourself.

You felt beautiful…

The past few days had been pretty intense. As a cook, you had a million things to prepare for the ball that would celebrate the countdown to Christmas. But as the woman accompanying the King, you had learned to dance, and to stand properly, and to bend like a lady before mighty Lords…

It was exhausting. You fully understood why Caspian longed so much for instants when he could be himself, without worrying about the protocol. And to be fully honest, you were not sure to be able to handle all the pressure that came with all of this…

First, there were the rumours. You had heard a fair amount of nasty things these past few days, Caspian had been right when he warned you that lies would be flooding across the Castle like rivers ran to the coast after heavy rains.

Y/N? She's nothing…

The King only used this servant as an excuse.

The King was clearly out of his mind.

Perhaps she's a witch who put a spell on the King.

The King is no better than the ones who sat on this throne before him and this slut is just one of his whores…

You took a deep breath, pushing these thoughts away.

Caspian and you were not playing any kind of game, and you knew it. He loved you. It was obvious. His eyes carried his words even better than his voice, his tender gestures were clear signs. He loved you. And Aslan knew… you loved him with all your heart, every fiber of your being was full of love for him.

He didn't know you had been crying every night since the announcement though.

You knew that you should have ignored these lies, you were aware of the poison in their words. But clearly, the poison was efficient nonetheless. You didn't know for how long you could handle all this anymore…

You heaved a sigh. Caspian was certain that things would get better after this ball. The Realm and its inhabitants needed to see how true your feelings were, that was all. The rumours would die out then, when all would finally realize that Caspian would never change his mind. At least, that's what he thought. You were more perplex though.

You jumped as someone knocked on the door of your chamber.

You took another deep breath. It was time. You needed to get out of this safe room and face all those people who seemed to hate you…

But Caspian would be there with you. It would all be fine. Caspian was there…

You strode to the door, gathering your courage before opening the door.

You froze at the sight of Caspian standing on the threshold, and he remained motionless as well as his eyes landed on you, his jaw dropping.

He was so handsome in this auburn velvety suit, and this large white shirt…

You looked up at his eyes, but didn't meet his gaze. His chocolate brown eyes were roaming your body, drinking you in. If he had been able to think, he would have stopped himself from looking at you this way, respectfully keeping his gaze to your face. But his brain had stopped for a while now. You were too stunning for his mind to keep on making thoughts, it was all blank, only filled with you…

His eyes slowly traveled up again, to find you flustered.

He blushed fiercely as well.

"Y/N… I…" but his voice broke.

He couldn't find a way to breathe. You were literally breathtaking.

"Do you like my dress?" you asked shyly, clearly insecure now.

He smiled.

"You're…" a whisper was all he could summon. "You're simply… perfect…"

You smiled.

"Really?"

He nodded.

"You're extremely beautiful, Y/N."

"You are very handsome as well," you smiled, your cheeks on fire.

"Thank you."

The two of you exchanged a smile, before Caspian would offer you his arm.

"Are you ready, my Lady?" he asked you.

And there was no humour in the title he used to call you. To him you were a Lady, a real Lady, more than most of the women who were born to wear the title. You smiled, nodding, and closing the door behind you.

You enlaced your arm with his, and let him guide you towards the ball room.

"I know you are nervous," he said warmly. "But I'll stay by your side all along. You have nothing to fear."

"Don't leave me alone."

"I won't."

You took his hand in yours, holding his fingers tightly. You were not nervous actually, you were bloody terrified.

"It's all going to be fine, Y/N. I won't let anyone be mean to you. And if you feel uncomfortable there, we'll leave, okay?"

You nodded.

"Thank you so much, Caspian. I know it's important for you to make a good impression tonight and I just hope that I won't be a disappointment."

He laughed.

"You could never be a disappointment. I'm the one who should be thanking you. I know it's hard. All the rumours, the glares… I know that you didn't sign for this when you chose me. But there's nothing I can do about it. I'm King, and this weight upon my shoulders that comes with this title can never be lifted off of my shoulders and carried by someone else. Not for as long as I live. And now that you're here with me, I hope it won't happen before we have spent a whole lifetime together."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. They were earnest, and full of meaning. He was confessing feelings he knew you might not share. You loved him, but to what extent?

You smiled.

"That's all I wish for myself, Caspian," you whispered, and his hold on your hand tightened. "A chance to spend my life with you."

He stopped right before the corridor that would lead the two of you to the ball room. The passage was dimly lit, and still deserted. When he looked at you, he had tears in his eyes.

"I'm so happy you feel the same as I do," he whispered.

"You know I do, Caspian."

He leaned down to capture your lips with his in a tender kiss. You let go of his hand and freed your arm to wrap it around his neck while your other hand travelled through his hair. You were soon pressed against him as he wrapped his arms around you.

"You are stunning tonight, Y/N," he whispered against your skin as he bent down to bury his face in the crook of your neck. "Although, you are always beautiful."

"This dress does miracles then?"

"No… it just enhances what I already saw in you. But I reckon that everyone is going to see it now as well, not just me. Which… might not be a good idea after all…"

"Why not? Having second thoughts?" you asked, only half-joking.

But he laughed your remark away, stroking soothingly your back.

"Of course not," he chuckled. "But with this dress… all the men in there will notice you and I won't like it…"

You laughed.

"What now? I didn't know you were jealous, Caspian."

"Well, me neither. I wasn't, before meeting you. Now… I could probably start a fight…"

"Don't be silly," you giggled.

"I'm serious!"

But you merely laughed in response, before being interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming your way.

You and Caspian reluctantly broke away, and you took his hand again.

You walked towards the large doors of wood that were already open. In the ballroom, many of the guests had already arrived, and were chatting, drinking some red wine. You followed Caspian's lead as he walked without a hesitation into the large room. You let the scent of food and wine fill your lungs, the warm light of candles and torches illuminating the richly decorated room. The Christmas decorations were shining with thousands of colours under this light. The Narnian tune played by the orchestra was making you want to dance with Caspian already.

For a moment, you were too impressed by your surroundings to notice that everyone in the room had fallen silent at the sight of you and Caspian walking in. You first noticed this feeling of being watched actually, and soon came to realize that everyone in the room was staring at you.

You blushed fiercely again, but followed Caspian, being careful at keeping your back straight and your chin high just like you had been told to. You tightened your hold on Caspian's hand as Lord Lirian and his daughter welcomed the King first.

"Your Highness," he bent, Clarissa following her father's lead. "What a brilliant celebration you have here! I am thrilled that both me and my daughter could attend."

"I'm glad you could come, my Lord," Caspian answered, nodding back to Lirian. "Well… I'm sure you remember Lady Y/N, right?"

"Lady?" Clarissa asked in a bitter tone.

You stared back at her, forcing a smile to your lips.

"It's a pleasure to see you again," you said, and couldn't help but feel proud of yourself for not stuttering.

But Clarissa didn't answer you, and merely turned to Caspian instead.

"I'm sure you can save a dance for me, Your Highness," she requested.

"We shall see," Caspian answered elusively.

"The night is till young, there is plenty of time."

But Caspian was tired of this little game of hers. And he was tired of remaining polite with her when he reckoned that she deserved a lesson.

"I'm afraid I already have the perfect partner for a dance, Lady Clarissa. Now, I hope both you and your father enjoy this evening. If you would excuse us…"

But before any of them could reply, he had guided you away.

"Are you alright, my love?" he asked in a caring voice.

But you nodded reassuringly.

"Thank you," you smiled.

"I told you, I'm keeping you all for myself tonight."

You exchanged a bright smile, and indeed, for as long as you politely greeted guests, Caspian never let go of your hand.

The night was starting to fly by already when Caspian was finally done with the hypocrite smiles and the handshakes. He walked to one of the tables set near the walls, and picked up a piece of this chocolate cake he had asked you to prepare for this event. It seemed so long ago already…

"Now… this is delicious, Y/N," he smiled, taking another piece before turning towards you again.

You giggled, picking up a piece of the cake as well.

"I'm glad you still like it this much."

"More than ever. It reminds me of that night… do you remember?"

"How could I forget?"

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

"Well, my love… would you like to dance?" he proposed.

Next to you, the two Ladies who had been whispering froze at the sound of the petname Caspian had used.

"I would love to, darling," you grinned, nodding.

He guided you to the center of the large room where some couples were already dancing. But they all stopped as you and Caspian approached.

He rested his hand on your lower back – a bit lower than he had during the repetitions, you noticed – and you rested your own on his broad shoulder.

A new song started to play, and Caspian made a movement to start dancing, but you looked down at your feet as you almost stepped on his foot already.

You blushed fiercely, but he merely chuckled, stopping his movement altogether.

"Here you go again. Just look up at me, love."

You raised your eyes to meet his brown ones.

"I'm guiding you. Just follow me, okay?"

You nodded, locking your eyes on his and knowing that you had to never let your stare falter if you wanted to survive this dance with him.

And when he moved again, you followed his lead. In just a moment you had forgotten the crowded ballroom, the couples who had resumed their dances, the candlelight, the decorations… everything had vanished beyond Caspian's glance. It was so warm and tender… oozing with love, and you knew that you were looking up at him the same way.

If only this moment could have lasted forever… the oblivion brought by his eyes and his embrace enough to bring your heart all the happiness it desired.

But only too soon, the music faded, the song coming to an end, and you reluctantly stopped dancing. Caspian kept you close to him for just a few seconds longer, and you knew that he didn't want to let go. But you were not alone this time, and he didn't have a choice but to break his embrace.

You exchanged a smile.

He wanted to take you for a walk now, he knew you were not enjoying the evening so much because of all these stares set upon you. But he didn't have the chance to make you his offer, as Lord Emras stood next to the two of you.

"Your Highness, Lord Lirian requires your presence, I think he wants to discuss an important matter with you. Perhaps I could keep Lady Y/N company while you attend your duties."

Caspian heaved a sigh, his gaze full of hesitation as he looked at you again, but you nodded your head with a reassuring smile.

"You should go, you are needed elsewhere, Caspian."

"It won't be long."

You nodded again, and he gave your hand a squeeze before turning around and walking towards the Lord and his daughter.

"May I have the honour, my Lady?" Emras offered you his opened hand.

You blushed slightly. It felt strange to accept to dance with another man than Caspian, but you reckoned that the protocol required you to accept the Lord's offer, so you slipped your hand in his and let him slowly dance with you.

"So… you are a cook, aren't you?" Emras asked.

His tone was nonchalant, the tone of a pointless discussion, but you were not so naïve as to believe in his careless tone. You were certain that he was more dangerous than he seemed to be.

"I am, indeed," you nodded.

He tried to pull you a bit closer to him, but you kept a fair amount of distance between your two bodies.

"I wonder… how you and the King did meet? And how… did you make him fall for you?"

You didn't like this sudden accusatory tone of his.

"I did nothing to make him fall for me," you snapped.

"But you think that he does have feelings for you, don't you?"

"I know he does. He does have feelings for me. And I have feelings for him as well."

"I see…"

He remained silent for a moment, and you held his prying stare.

"I do not think that you manipulated him…" he said slowly.

"Of course, I didn't!" you protested, outraged.

You took a step back, trying to move away from him, but he only strengthened his hold on you, preventing you from escaping.

"You know that this relationship with the King is doomed though. Do you not?"

You tried to scowl at him, but you couldn't. Because of all the doubts in your heart and mind, you tended to even agree with him.

"I thought so. You are wiser than you look like."

"Caspian loves me. And I love him," you tried to defend yourself.

"Love? That's a strong word."

"I know the way I feel…"

"But do you know the way he feels as well?"

"He told me. Multiple times. And there were no lies in his eyes, I know he spoke the truth."

Emras stared at you for a moment, but he knew that you were not telling lies. It was all true. He hadn't really expected to have to fight against something as strong as love. But you obviously were in love with the King. And he was beginning to think that Caspian loved you as well.

He hated to be that man, the one to break hearts. But the safety of the Kingdom depended on it, and he would have done anything to defend Narnia.

"Y/N… I know that you think that Caspian has only eyes for you. That his feelings are true. But they are not. It's just a phase of his, it will pass…"

"You're lying!"

You tried to move away again, but he kept on holding you too tightly, and you were afraid of making a scene and humiliate Caspian.

"Do you really think that you are the first woman the King shows any interest in?"

You froze, staring at him. You were trying to read through him, but couldn't figure out if he spoke the truth or not.

After all, Emras was a good liar…

"I…" you tried to protest, but there was too much doubt in your mind already.

You felt insecure, he had seen it in an instant. You were such an easy prey…

"He will soon show no interest in you anymore. I'm sorry, if he made you believe that you were special. But you're not special, Y/N."

"I don't believe you."

"We both know you do though."

You stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, but your throat was too tight for you to speak.

You didn't want to believe it. With all your heart, you were trying to push the thought away. But it was already too late. Seeds were planted in your mind and doubts grew out of it too fast for you to remain logical.

"You seem to be a good person, I can see it now," Emras added, his voice softer than before. "I don't want you to end up broken-hearted because the King has found a new toy in you…"

"That's not true! It… It's not what it is about between us!"

"To you, no. But to him… How can you know?"

Your eyes drifted across the crowd to set upon Caspian. He was still talking with Lord Lirian and his daughter, and you couldn't help but notice how close Clarissa was…

"We both know that all this is not real, Y/N," Emras went on. "You're a cook. It's a noble profession, but it can hardly be compared to a Queen…"

"I don't want to be Queen," you admitted in a breathy whisper.

"You were not born to be one," Emras reassured you. "You can be proud of your work, Y/N. But this world the King lives in is not yours. You don't belong there, Y/N. You've seen it, haven't you?"

You were close to tears by now, your eyes still resting on Caspian.

"The King belongs with someone of his rank. Someone who will be able to understand his duties, what it means to be King, and will be able to wear the title of Queen. You deserve to find love, Y/N. But whatever is happening between you and the King… it's not really love. He's just curious. He's curious because you are not what he is used to. He is used to meet Ladies and princesses, women he deserves. But you are not like this, and that's what intrigues him. But his curiousity will fade, Y/N. And he will break your heart. He did so to other women before. I don't want you to be hurt that way. You know what needs to be done."

A tear rolled down your cheek.

"You need to stop all this," Emras went on, knowing he had already won the fight. "While you still have time. While you still can. Before it's too late for you to save yourself. He might look like it hurts… and maybe it will hurt him, but it's for the better. You know it, Y/N… I'm sure that deep down, you've always known."

You closed your eyes, but Caspian's silhouette bathed in candlelight was still painted on your closed eyelids, like a ghost haunting you down…

"You need to let go..." Emras's voice sounded from far away, and yet painfully echoed in your heart. "For your sake. But for his as well. He's about to make a huge mistake, Y/N. If he breaks trades with the North, it will mean war all over again. Do you want that to happen?"

You shook your head.

"I thought not. Well… then you have to take your distance, and make him see that he belongs with a woman of his rank."

"But he loves me…" you whispered, a last spark of hope slowly burning out but still hot enough for your heart to survive on it.

"The King still has much to learn… love is one of these things he can't understand yet."

"What do you know about how he feels?" you asked back, looking up at him again.

You were crying by now, but couldn't find a way to care. You were barely aware of the salty drops rolling down your cheeks. You were struggling against yourself too hard for that, your heart torn apart between doubts and faith…

"I have been by his side for a while now," the Lord answered. "Who do you think takes care of shushing rumours about women he sees?"

Your eyes grew wide, tears only falling more down your cheeks.

"Y/N… you're not what is best for him. And he is not the best for you either. Leave him, while you still have a chance to spare your heart…"

The music stopped, the silence that came with it seeming sudden to you, but you finally managed to get away from Emras hold.

But his poisoned words had reached your heart and soul already, and it was too late…

You strode across the room, looking down at your feet in an attempt to hide your tears.

Caspian saw your form moving across the room so fast, a mere form all draped in dark blue moving through the crowd. He frowned hard, knowing right away that something was wrong.

He excused himself and didn't wait for Lirian to answer before striding after you.

"Y/N!" he called once he had reached the corridor.

But you kept on walking down the corridor without a single glance over your shoulder towards him.

"Y/N!"

He had to run after you, finally catching your arm, to bring you to a stop. He forced you to turn towards him. He clenched his jaw in anger at the sight of tears on your face.

"What did they tell you?"

His voice was colder now, but you didn't answer.

"What did they say? You know… it doesn't even matter. It's just a lie. Y/N, it's not true. You're amazing. You're perfect…"

But you shook your head, clenching your jaw as well.

"I'm not, Caspian."

"Of course, you are, my love…"

You winced at the nickname, and Caspian frowned.

"I'm sorry, I should have remained by your side all along…"

"No… it's… I'm so lost…"

You kept on crying, and Caspian made a movement to wrap his arms around your shaking frame in an attempt to comfort you. But you didn't let him, pushing him away.

"How many women have you called this way before me?" you asked him, your tone more bitter than you intended.

Caspian frowned hard.

"I… why are you asking me this?"

"Answer me."

"No… no one, Y/N. You… you're the only one…"

You clenched your fists as well, staring at his now puzzled expression. He didn't seem to understand what you were talking about. But you were too lost to know who to believe anymore.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"I don't know… I'm not like that, Caspian. I can't handle all this…"

You nodded towards the direction of the ballroom, but Caspian shushed you when you opened your mouth to speak again.

"I know it's hard for you, and I know that you are making huge efforts for me. I know it. I'll repay it one day, I promise. We can leave the ball if you want, it was already brave of you to come with me…"

"No, you don't understand! I can't do it! I can't! It's not me! I'm not happy like this!"

Your words pierced his heart like cold daggers.

"I thought you were happy with me…" he breathed.

But you shook your head.

"I don't know anymore… I don't know…"

"This evening was intense for you," Caspian tried to cool the situation down. "Perhaps you should get some rest. You will feel better tomorrow."

"I don't want you to break my heart…"

"I won't. Y/N, I won't. I promise. I love you."

You brushed another tear away.

"I can't pretend to be someone else, Caspian. And I'm not a Queen," you said firmly, despite your wet cheeks, and he knew how serious your words were. "I don't think we were meant for each other…"

"Y/N! Don't say things like that!"

"It's the truth! It's just a dream… all this… it's just a dream, Caspian. We can't be together…"

"Of course, we can. We can be together, we just need to fight hard enough for it. I need you. I will fight until my last breath to spend my life with you."

"Caspian…"

"Why are you saying all this anyway? I thought you loved me as well."

"I do, Caspian. But the world is not ready for that. And no matter if you're King, you can't fight the whole world on your own."

"For you, I would."

You shook your head.

"I need some time to think this through…" you breathed.

"What do you mean?"

"I need to be alone for some time."

He slowly nodded.

"We… we'll discuss this tomorrow then, after a good night of sleep…"

"It will take more than a night, Caspian."

He looked at you with eyes full of fear… the fear of losing you…

"How long then?" he asked, but you merely shrugged.

"I don't know. The time it takes me to come to a decision."

"A decision?"

"About us."

Tears started to shine in his eyes.

"Don't do that. Don't leave me…"

"I need to think…"

"What did they tell you? Who spoke to you? I can't be… before the ball you were ready to spend your life with me…"

"But then I was blinded. By you. By how sweet and kind you are with me. But being with you involves more than that. And I can't take it…"

You shook your head.

"I need some time. Please, I need to be left alone."

Caspian didn't try to stop you when you walked away. And you were too busy hiding your tears to notice that Caspian was crying as well. He rested his back against the nearest wall to keep his balance as you disappeared around the corner. He had not cried that much since he was a little boy scared of the dark…

You didn't stop walking, almost running, before you reached your chamber. You closed the door behind you, finally letting out a sob as you didn't need to control your appearance anymore. You could let the mask fall now, so you crumbled.

But you noticed a little box on your bed as you walked through the room to get rid of your dress.

You took it in your hands, wondering what could be inside. But when you opened it, you could only let out another sob.

It was the star you had seen in a shop in your village, the one to put on top of your Christmas tree. Along with the beautiful object, a little note rested in the box :

For the brightest of all stars,

Merry Christmas, Y/N.

With all my love,

Caspian X.

Your knees gave way under your weight, shaking too much now. And you were left sobbing on the floor of your room, the same question twirling in your head again and again…

What were you supposed to do now?

***********************

@geeksareunique @giggleberts @sad-orange-thoughts @aylinnmaslow @haritini2000 @ladyblablabla @drinix @joelynnp, @wearetalkingtoyou @mxrihollxnd

[anakinsbugs]

The Blogfather

New Post has been published on https://walrusvideo.com/the-blogfather/

The Blogfather

He wasn’t an Arsenal fan, but he was at the 1971 FA Cup final. I wasn’t born yet (I didn’t arrive until September of that double winning year), but he saw Charlie George score that winner and lie flat on his back on the Wembley turf to celebrate.

Like so many of his generation, he came to England from Ireland to find work in the late 1950s, and I’m sure my love of football came from him. There was always a ball, always a kick-around in the garden, or on the front lawn of the castle we lived in for a while (honestly, it was a castle).

Back then you could just go to a football match. Rock up on a Saturday, and pay your way into the ground depending on who was at home. He lived and worked in West London, and nominally he was a Fulham fan. He loved Johnny Haynes, but he was a huge admirer of Jimmy Greaves too. He liked players who could do things with both feet, and he went to matches all over the city, just because he could.

Some of my earliest memories are of him playing football. He started life as a forward (like my brother), but by the time I came along and he was togging out for the village team in Bishopthorpe (near York), he’d moved back to centre-half (where I played my whole life). I’d stand on the sidelines with my mam. I don’t remember the games or the performances, just the fact that I was there and so was he.

..

He was pretty strict when we were young. I think it was because he had very clear ideas about what young men should and shouldn’t do. They should look smart, for example, and definitely not wear jeans. They really shouldn’t watch Grange Hill, because those children were basically juvenile delinquents and didn’t respect figures of authority sufficiently.

He worked a lot though, so it was often drive-by stuff. He spent most his working life in the hospitality industry – bars, restaurants, hotels. Long hours, late nights.

Once, in the back garden, I was winding my brother up, as big brothers do. He reached breaking point and unleashed a wave of expletives that would have made a sailor blush. Dad, probably trying to get a bit of rest upstairs, heard everything, stuck his head out the bedroom window and it was the most trouble any little boy has ever been in before or since. I felt bad, and I bought Tim some Cadbury’s Creme Eggs to say sorry.

..

In 1996 he was away on a golf trip in Spain and fell ill. Cardiomyopathy. The prognosis was not good. He needed a heart transplant. In the mists of time it feels like it happened quickly, but it didn’t. He spent months and months gravely unwell, in and out of hospital, but in the end they took his actual heart out and put someone else’s in.

It’s basically a miracle, isn’t it?

When you think about it, it’s absolutely crazy, but as I said at his eulogy, it changed his life and it saved his life. He became a fierce advocate for organ donation. He helped found the Irish Heart and Lung Transplant Association, and he went onto to chair the European Heart and Lung Transplant Federation. He wanted to ensure as many people as possible could benefit from the incredible medical advancements, and the work carried out by doctors and transplant teams.

As you might imagine, that kind of thing gives you a new perspective on life. He was certainly mellower post-transplant, but it coincided with us reaching a stage of adult life where your relationship with your parents changes anyway. We did a lot of stuff together. Golf, pints, dinners, holidays, even the Arsenal.

I don’t know if the trip we took to London was specifically to see a game, or if it coincided with something else, but he came with me to the Emirates to see us play in the Champions League. We played PSV and a late goal from on-loan Chelsea defender Alex saw us crash out. Not exactly a stellar night on the pitch, but it was still a good one off it. We had post-game pints in The Tollington, he met many of the Arseblog crew, and he often talked about how much he enjoyed it.

He loved Arseblog and what it became. He’d read most days. He’d say ‘Some of those chaps on the Arses are a bit fruity, aren’t they?!’.  He even listened to a podcast, impressed and somewhat astonished with how often, and with such variation, Ian Wright said my name.

..

He hadn’t been well for a couple of weeks. I took him to the doctors on February 1st. She told me she was worried about his kidneys. Years of anti-rejection and immuno-suppressant drugs take their toll. Blood test results came back that afternoon. He needed to be in hospital.

I remember him waving to us from the ambulance before it pulled away, his big overcoat pulled tightly around him on a cold evening. Over the next couple of weeks he was treated for the infection, he was getting there, but slowly.

On Monday February 15th I got a phone call from a doctor. He’d been unwell, so they ran more tests. One of them was for Covid-19. It came back positive. We spent a year doing everything we could to keep him safe during the pandemic, and somehow he picked it up in the Coronary Care Unit of a hospital.

Yet over the next week, he didn’t really develop any of the major symptoms. On Monday February 22nd he called from his bed, we spoke about him coming home. He couldn’t wait to get back to his chair, in front of the fire, to watch golf and CNN. We wondered how strong he’d be, what care he might need. How we might have to adapt the house. Downstairs bedroom, stairlift, that kind of thing.

Then … day 10. Covid hit.

Did you ever get winded? It’s scary, isn’t it? Those few seconds where you can’t catch your breath. Imagine that all the time. He needed oxygen, then more oxygen, then all the oxygen it’s possible to give someone.

We were lucky in that we were allowed in to see him. We got to talk to him. That will always be a comfort, but seeing your dad on his own in a six bed ward, surrounded by and attached to machines, struggling to breathe is brutal. You want to help somehow, but you can’t.

We were clad in so much PPE, gown, masks, goggles, gloves, that he thought we were doctors at first. Maybe that’s why he told ‘them’ he didn’t want to die in hospital.

He died in hospital … in the early hours of March 2nd.

He’d been through so much. The heart transplant, he beat a lung cancer situation, he had an ongoing prostate cancer situation, but he couldn’t beat this. He was 84 and he’d lived a good life, but it doesn’t make it any easier to see someone you love die like that.

I’m not going to preach to anyone, but I can only urge you to be cautious. I know we’re all fed up with restrictions and life being the way it is. I know there is light at the end of the tunnel as vaccines are being rolled out, but this virus is still out there and it’s still dangerous. The most vulnerable among us are still loved and cherished family members and friends. Please don’t lose sight of that amid frustration, we all have a responsibility to each other. Someone’s age or their underlying condition doesn’t make them expendable.

Be careful. Look after each other. Each one of those statistics released daily is a real person, with many more left behind. Wash your hands. Wear a mask – at worst it’s a mild inconvenience, at best it saves lives, maybe even your own. Get the vaccine when you can.

My daughter, who I haven’t seen in person for over a year now, couldn’t get home for her grandad’s funeral. The funeral at which only ten people were allowed. That’s not how we do things in Ireland. There was no wake, no telling of stories about the one just gone. The laughs you have at events like that seem incongruous to the situation, but they’re a big part of how get through it.

Like so many other families over this last 12 months, we were apart at a time when we needed to be together. Just a couple of weeks previously my big cousin Adrian, a Gooner and only a few years older than I am, was taken by Covid too. He wasn’t elderly, he wasn’t high risk. I had to ring my dad in hospital and tell him, and while the staff in there were so lovely, he had nobody to share that grief with in person.

The support mechanisms we have in place to cope with things like this aren’t there any more. There are very obvious impacts of Covid on our lives, but there are malingering ones which I don’t think we’ll come to understand for some time yet.

..

Whatever nurses are paid, they deserve twice that, and more. They are amazing. They don’t need to be clapped, they need to be paid properly. You might not need them now, so perhaps they don’t register, but there will come a time when you will, and they will be amazing for you and your family too.

They shouldn’t have to fight for the compensation they deserve. We should be fighting for them. We should be angry on their behalf. Fight for healthcare.

Pay them properly.

..

My dad was an amazing man. Really funny, kind, generous, a good person who was the linchpin of our family, and we’re going to miss him terribly. He was well cool too, I mean, look at that 1960s shades/rollneck action he had going on.

I’m experiencing a lot of emotions right now, and it’s going to take some time to process, as they say. Today though, I just want to remember him in a positive way. A man who had a huge influence on who am I, someone who – when I think of him – makes me smile.

It’s absolutely shit he’s not going to be around anymore, and the circumstances of his passing were deeply unpleasant. It’s been a really rough few weeks, to be honest. However, he gave me the strength to get through this, and on this Arsenal blog I’m gonna take the owner’s privilege and set myself up with a tap-in to finish.

Love you Dad, and as a wise man once said, you were f*ckin’ excellent.

The post The Blogfather appeared first on Arseblog … an Arsenal blog.

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Go to Source Author: Goldie

[chronicles-of-tirion]

Unbreakable

“You are smaller than I remember,” Arasilmë said, his strong arms wrapped both around and underneath the slender elda he had braced up against a marble wall, much in the same way a mother or caregiver would hold a child. “Did Námo rob your body of all that muscle when he remade you? That was cruel of him.”

A lie. The entire thing had been a lie, a farce created to keep him busy long enough to seduce his hot-headed charge past the point of reason. A lie that he'd made love to as though it had been truth, a lie that he'd shared things, intimate things with, because he believed without a shadow of a doubt that it was real and that the Valar had sent him back. But the truth... the reality was loathsome, and crueler than anything he'd ever known.

“I...” the other started quiet, soft, “there was much damage done from... from...” Aurë bit his bottom lip, “from what had happened, that it's been hard for me to do many of the things that I once took joy in doing.” Arasilmë watched him as he visibly cringed at the mere mention of his experience at the hand of Melkor and his foul servant, Sauron. In all honesty, the redheaded first born didn't want him to talk about it, to talk about it or remember it; as far as he was concerned, he wanted to put it as far behind the both of them as he could.

He could not see well through the black silken scarf he'd had Nerdanel tie around his eyes, but that was entirely the point: he didn't want to see. He didn't want to see the monster that wore the face of his dead mate, the mate he sometimes cried himself to sleep pining for and grasping at the shredded wisps of what remained of his ruined bond; the mate whose name he found himself screaming as he wrenched himself from a nightmare covered in sweat. He didn't want to watch or see himself kill that mate again, even though he knew this monster was not his mate. He didn't want to see it, because he knew that if he did, he couldn't make himself do it. All men were sometimes forced to do things that they didn't want to in the name of love, and in the name of love, he'd kill the monster that wore his beloved's face and save his stupid ward from an even worse fate.

“I'm small, because I'm afraid...” he said quieter still. Not Aurë. “I'm small, because I am uncomfortable in my own skin...” Lies. “I'm small, because the only thing that I have lived for, is finding you so that we could be together again.”

“Lies!” Arasilmë snarled, pointing his sword in the direction of the creature, the monster, that wore the face of his beloved and most precious person of all. “Everything that you said to me, every admission, every profession, everything that you said to me is a farce!”

The silver-haired elda standing beside the first-born's hot-headed charge, Fëanor, sat up and blinked, fainting confusion at the sudden outburst. Fëanor was just as equally confused, and somewhat annoyed that Arasilmë had come storming into his chambers brandishing a sword at his new friend. “What are you doing, Arasilmë?” he asked, brushing sweat away from his forehead.

“That is not who you think he is,” Arasilmë snarled, stepping ever farther into the room. Fëanor was certain that his general and long-time friend had to have a sixth sense of some kind, because he was entirely blind and seemed to know exactly where he was going anyway.

“Oh really?” he asked, jeering slightly, because Arasilmë had obviously lost his marbles somewhere in between last night and that morning. “If he's not one of my new councilors, and your previously dead mate, then who is he?” Violence was not something tolerated in the great city of Tirion, especially not violence against other eldar, and his mad general was brandishing a very sharp sword at an elda he was fairly certain had no idea how to hold a blade or if he did, couldn't, without having a panic attack. Aurë was so much better with words than weapons. However, that was to be expected, considering Mahtan had forged Arasilmë the first sword in existence.

“My great enemy,” the redhead answered. He whipped out a set of small daggers and flicked them, fast and hard at the smaller, silver-haired elda, the sharpened blades sliding through skin and hair like a hot knife into butter. The warrior winced, trembling, pausing, hesitating at the screams of pain from his foe a foe whose voice identical down to pitch and inflection to that of his dead mate's. But this one wasn't Aurë. Aurë was strong. Aurë was powerful. Aurë was great. Aurë was not so small and so frightened, he was not a mouse. He was a lion. A great and mighty warrior and this farce had gone on long enough. “Scream. Holler. Cry. My Aurë does none of these things. My Aurë would never allow such a thing to conquer him and make him so low.” Out of his pocket, he pulled a round ball filled with a dark red liquid. Aurë's light blue eyes widened and Fëanor's narrowed. What was this?

“Arasilmë...-?” The redhead hefted the ball and then whipped it at the smaller, slender elda. Arasilmë had legitimately gone insane. It was not something that he hadn't expected, in all honesty, with his father being so lax and unobservant lately due to being so hung-up on his whore of a bride, of course he'd let his general slowly lose his mind... but enough for murder?

The moment that the ball smashed into the cheek of his friend, Fëanor shook himself out of the shock of the entire situation, remembered that he had a sword and drew it. “Arasilmë, stop-!” Aurë's eyes swirled from a frightened liquid blue to an angry molten golden colour. Elven eyes did not do that.  “What... what's going on here...?” he asked, dropping his sword slightly, frightfully confused.

“They're golden aren't they, Fëanáro?” Arasilmë asked.

Fëanor hesitated a moment, then replied, “yes... they are.” However, the silver-haired individual standing in front of them had not changed form, the only thing that was unlike what had been was the sizzling flesh of his cheek and the golden eyes laden with pain and anger, wrath. “But... he still looks like Aurë...”

“Which is why I'm not removing this until I'm done...” Fëanor looked at Arasilmë and then at Melkor, because that's who he was, Melkor.

“Arasilmë, stop.”

“WHAT!?” Fëanor was certain that he'd never heard his general yell so loud in his entire life and with so much hatred and anger in that voice. “There is no stop. That is my enemy. My GREAT enemy, and I will never stop until he's dead!”

“But he hasn't done anything to hurt anyone! We just talk! All he does is talk to me!” That wasn't all he did, but that wasn't something he was about to tell Arasilmë at this moment. “Don't answer violence with violence, you're not making the situation any better. The Valar wouldn't have allotted for his release if he meant any harm.”

“The Valar are fucking morons, every last one of them, especially Súlimo. That bastard is far too forgiving and far too in love with the idea that his brother will eventually bury the hatchet and return to the form he originally had. You don't steal mothers, brothers, fathers, sisters, wives, husbands and mates and turn them into monsters if you have any intention of returning. Get out of my way, Fëanáro.” Fëanor turned his attention toward Melkor who was now looking slightly less like Aurë: angrier and brandishing a weapon of his own.

“Do not speak of my brother in such a way,” he snarled. “You know nothing of the Valar.”

“I know enough,” Arasilmë answered. “I know enough about you to know about them.” Arasilmë had never had a high opinion of the Valar. “How dare you wear the face of my love. How dare you farther dishonor him and dishonor my memory of him.”

“I only wanted to talk to your ward,” he said. “He has the potential to be so great, having such a powerful aura and energy already.”

Arasilmë had had enough talking, enough of Melkor's lies and untruths. Whipping his sword around, he charged, slamming the point of his sword right through the other's chest with surprising accuracy for one lacking sight a the moment. When he felt his blade hit the marble wall behind him, he smirked and twisted the blade inside of him, before yanking it out.

“I planned... for this... you know... you finding out... it was me all along...” he whispered breathless into the other's ear, smiling, though Arasilmë couldn't see it and blood dripping from his lips. “You know... even if you die, you'll never meet him in Mandos. I destroyed his soul and devoured it, consuming the energy for myself. There is nothing left of him for you to meet in Mandos.” He smiled then, the illusion he had cast crumbling to dust.

Fëanor didn't speak to Arasilmë. The other's face was as hard as stone, lacking any and all emotion. He'd never seen him this way before. The only thing that he could do was to watch him leave, and hope that he came back.

~*~

Arasilmë stood near the rail of Tirion's balcony, his bedroom in shambles, property destroyed beyond repair. “Do not do this... You cannot return from this...” The female voice whispered closely, even though there was no one near, no one close.

The redhead released a quiet sigh, breathing in the scent of the wind, the coming rain on the air. “That's the point, isn't it?” he replied. “That there is no point. All of these imbeciles see the beauty and serenity of this place and think that there can be no darkness here, that there is nothing to fear anymore. There is darkness everywhere, and just because you claim you can protect us from it, doesn't actually mean that you can.” He whipped out his sword, special and custom made only for him by the one person he had assumed understood the direness of the situation.

Apparently not. “But this is not your destiny! You are not bound by any destiny laid out by anyone. Silmë, you cannot return from this! My child of the stars, do not do this...” She beseeched him, the only one of them that he ever cared to listen to still, the only one that hadn't ever betrayed him with false promises and lies.

He looked down at his right hand, at the scar across it that had been carved into his flesh before the creation of the first sword, jagged and messy, and all that remained of that which he had loved more than anything on this forsaken piece of rock. He took his sword and sliced right through it, in the opposite direction. “There's nothing for me in Mandos... and the only thing here for me is him. So be it. I, Arasilmë Angael, swear on the existence of my soul, created by Eru Ilúvatar that I will rend Melkor, the Dark One, from existence in such a way that there will be nothing left of him...” He took his sword and sheathed it, then turned away. “Or me, but ancient stardust.”

[astralworld-blog1]

Transcript by Charlie Tetebo...

00.00 – 1.10 min: You know what... since you f****** with my program darling Queen Elizabeth [II] and the paedophilia ring and the cloning centres. That’s right darling the cloning centres. Parents listen to me right now, they are blocking me but that is quite alright. They are blocking me but that is quite alright. Because I have many, many other forces; I shall not say their names right now, but I have many big plans to expose all of you disgusting, sadistic f***s! Okay? That is all. I shall save that for another time. But, however, I shall REPEAT: that was just an introduction to the reptilian family, leading all the way back. They call themselves the “The Black Nobility”. Now that is just one part of it; alright?

1.11 - 2.47 min: The Black Nobility; the reptilian family; all the way back from ancient times; so which they think... they feel like they are the divine chosen ones... from whom may I ask? Definitely. Definitely not God. Our Creator of the world. Reptilians: they feed on blood; children; the paedophilia ring; recently busted. Oh! It has been going on for centuries. Parents listen to me carefully. I don’t care if I’m cutting out. I will continue this and I am not alone on this battle. Believe THAT! Believe THAT! I am not alone on this battle. I started out alone but I am marching on with MILLIONS; okay? So sit your old a** down okay. Because you are gonna roll over, but it doesn’t matter anyway because you are all ancestral f***s! Who interbreed... ancestral f*****g... and then... and then... Oh! Only going to talk about cloning those children and... oh! And all those many children’s parents listen to me carefully.

2.48 - 4.24 min: Hundreds of missing children come up every year. You wonder... why? How? How could this be? And then there is so called CPS [Child Protection Services] or whatever they are called; they come and take your children, just, just for nothing; right? Not to discredit everybody, because not everybody is bad. I’m talking about the bad people. And they take your kids... they take them as this... they treat them like... I can’t even say the word. It’s disgusting, it’s sadistic. They... they... they take your kids... they toss them out like little [inaudible] cause they are so f*****g... Pardon my French, but then again when I’m dealing with these evil cum-buckets I have no holy words coming out of my mouth, because these are the only words they resonate to. So therefore that’s how I refer to them. Because they can only [inaudible] ...their masters whiplash on them with these [inaudible] words of cursing, vileness and slaving and that is not what the true God is; okay? The God of Hell...; Anyways...

4.25 – 5.30 min: There are these CLONING CENTRES where they take your children and do sadistic things to them. I’m not even talking about child molestation here; not to mention; uh there is one of them that got caught, flying out to Florida; to meet up with a four year old little girl, to have sex with a four year old girl. That’s right. Google it because it is so highly sinful... We have commercials about... you know starving kids; you know save the starving kids and it is heartbreaking. We can have commercials about it... why? Because it is a horrible thing and people can have commercials about it. WHY do we not have commercials about... ‘Daddy please don’t, don’t. Mommy please don’t let daddy let daddy touch me?’ –because it is disgusting! It is so disgusting; beyond sin that no one, NO ONE, can even make a commercial about that because that’s how sinful it is.

5.31 – 7.19 min: Do you understand that? Do you understand how sinful that is? These people, I’m not even going to call them people; alright? They take your children; they not only molest them; men f*** them and make them shoot each other. They give them guns. It’s either you shoot him or I’m gonna shoot you. They are... mind you, they are children. Children. Yes. I’m speaking out, because I... uh! Who else is doing this? You’re all just [inaudible]... shame on you... And actually the most recent paedophilia... got taken down... WOW! How long did that take? Really?! Do you know how long this has been going on? *Sigh* Alright I’m gonna calm down... but as a parent and I love parents out there. My heart goes out to all the parents out there who have missing children. You know, we all pray for them; every day. And I put on a bold face in public every day; because there needs to be someone strong, believe that. But my strength comes from somewhere... that I have a very vulnerable emotional side where I feel very strongly for these children and innocent people. So therefore I want to speak out.

7.20 – 9.10 min: I have and I have my passion too; and in the end you shall all know why I am so passionate about exposing every single one of these scumbags; okay? The truth shall prevail and you all will know why. So, as for you parents... ah... there are no words to describe. But let me just expose because you can’t just... there is a point where you CANNOT just turn the other way. You know this stuff is going on; and you go ‘Oh well... that’s their problem. Let’s just turn the other cheek.’ How long are you going to turn the other cheek, until it happens to your own freaking children? When, when, when your own child; three years old, get’s run out [kidnapped] and gets blasted right in the head with a gun... yeah... there’s more to that people; okay? And I’m not just saying that coming from some... I mean, actually, mothers, fathers out there... If you found out... I’m sure you would do way worse than what I am just saying. I’m just using voc. I’m just annihilating them vocally. I’m sure the parents out there who find out what their children have gone through, their missing children. I am pretty positive more than just a vocal annihilation of these scumbags that do this to your children; okay?

9.11 – 10.32 min: So keep on turning the other cheek folks. Hey, go and turn the other cheek; you are with the others. I am not. I AM NOT. Like I said you... There is only two ways to go about this: you’re either with us: the good guys, or you’re with the others. There is no in-between. Cause if you are in-between, hiding like cowards, turning the other cheek; doing whatever; well then you are a freaking coward and you are just a sheep. And sheep end up dying because you know what you are owned by “The Others”. So pick one: you’re either one of us: the good guys or you’re part of the others. That is simple as that! Two choices: good guys; bad guys. In-between you’re dead because the bad guys are going to suck your soul out [transfer your consciousness to your REM driven clone] and do some sadistic stuff to you and watch, and make you watch while they [do] pretty sadistic stuff to your children as well.

10.33 – 11.33 min: Do you know why they love children? Because they are innocent souls; they’re innocent... they’re, they’re the most innocent pure beings in this planet. They’re not harmed by anything. They’re new to the world; bright-eyed pure innocent children. That is why these disgusting paedophile and these clone rings; cloning centres; satanic rituals; Brownsville Texas... There are many other cloning centres where they take your children that go missing. And you wonder why? What happens to them? I’m sorry to break this to you but that is what happens. Now either do you want to know what happens to them or do you want to turn the other freaking cheek?

11.34 – 13.09 min: Tune into my next show. I’m gonna upload stuff; I have an arsenal ready to blow up! Okay. And I have reason behind this. You all should know my personal reason soon; but this has nothing to do with me right now. But know that I’m back, I’m back with a vengeance and I’m back with an army full of people around the world who are sick and tired of treated like animals; or quote, unquote “COWS”. We all know what that means. For the outside world (the masses) we all know the term “sheep”, sheeple. But for the insiders we know what the cows are don’t we? You know what “The Others” like to do with the cows, right? They start to herd you in... and to... yeah...I’m gonna end it at that. And to all the parents, families and children out there, I love you so much. I... have to maintain composure, because that is what I do. That is all. Over and out.

Donald Marshall - Tila did the radio show by surprise and without permission, it was supposed to be a prerecorded show just recycling information, so she told the illuminati clones but...She went live half way through and started going on blast about the cloning centers and kids stuck there and more... But that very night when she went to sleep the illuminati activated a clone of her when she was in rem sleep... I was there too at the time as clones. They had what is called a vrill type-3 come out, an old one. Big n nasty lookin, IT asked her face to face in the main arena in a guttural voice "why are you aiding him? He is trying to eradicate us. Do you want to eradicate us?" She said no shaking. The arena stands full of clones, and it came nose to nose and screamed in her face, took a breath and screamed again, she handled it well and vibrated but was ok, that's why she cut ties with me and never spoke of the cloning center again. But I commend her courage. They look like pumpkin head from the movie, ill show you a pic. When they're old. And they get oooold People have four chamber heart attacks by being confronted by these things,... Kills them in real body sometimes... Older people seeing them for the first time. Die in their sleep. Also why Lady Gaga had those stupid shoulder implants inserted... Wierd huh? Now you understand And if Tila Tequila uses drugs to deal with the horror I cannot judge her for that. No one should really... She handled it SO good though, didn't crumble into a ball or cry or anything. Commendable.

[geeksrs545]

15 Scary (and Awesome) Adult Halloween Costumes for 2017

Wouldn't you know it, my favorite time of year is upon us again. I love Halloween because it gives me a chance once a year to shed this fake flesh visage for people and don my true, horrific, demonic self I have to hide the rest of the year. His name is Korzburg the Devourer and he has lived inside me since childhood, with one night annually he can reveal his true form through me.

My true self. An abomination born from the fiery lungs of Hell to reign chaos on the people as they cry for mercy.

It is also a great chance to get dressed up and get candy or hit up some kinky social gatherings. With Halloween in mind, we thought we would assemble a list of scary adult halloween costumes (and some funny and cool ones too) that will surely be trending this Halloween (2017 for those who may just awoken from a coma).

Expect to see some aliens, a demon maybe, some pop culture references, and our president. Here, without further delay, 15 scary adult Halloween costumes for 2017 (and beyond).

Side note, not all are scary. Some are just downright hilarious and some are current pop culturegems.

1. Pennywise the Dancing Clown

When IT comes to Halloween, IT is easy to guess this year that the scary adult Halloween costumes trend will be led by none other than the Pennywise from the new IT movie which just came out (and is pretty badass).

There is just something primal in us that clowns evoke, like the simple fact that someone dressed up as such has complete anonymity and can pretty much get away with murder without anyone knowing who is actually doing it. Check out the history of John Wayne Gacy of you think I'm lying.

And let's be real, that face and outfit are scary as hell.

(Buy)

2. Wonder Woman

For the woman who may not want to be scary but may also want to feel empowered and driven, there is this killer Wonder Woman costume. And we are not talking cheap knockoff. We are talking her outfit from the flick with pretty much every detail nailed.

Granted, the cuffs won't stop bullets so don't get too overconfident when donning this guise.

(Buy)

3. Krampus the Christmas Demon

By now I am sure you have all heard of the legend of the Krampus. The German equivalent of Santa (more like Satan) who shows up for bad little German boys and girls on Christmas and steals and eats them if they were bad during the year.

Well, now you can actually dress up like the badass beast for Halloween. Please note, the kid legs and shoes sticking out of the bag really sell it and bring this Halloween costume to whole new level. And you can also bust this one out at Christmas, so really, it pays for itself the first year.

(Buy)

4. Inflatable T-Rex

What strikes terror in the hearts of men more than giant dinosaurs stumbling into a party where they reside? Nothing, that's what. And that is just what you will do when you show up to a Halloween shindig in this inflatable number.

Kidding. The truth is, these costumes are hilarious because they are inflated and oversized and the head wobbles all around when you walk like the T-rex's neck was broken. So what is scarier than a T-Rex at a party?

A T-Rex with a broken neck at a party, real talk. This shit is wholly unsettling.

(Buy)

5. Twisty the Clown (From American Horror Story)

Of all the scary characters to come out of the many seasons of American Horror Story, Twisty the clown (from Freakshow season and this season) has easily been one of the most memorable and creepiest. When it comes to scary adult Halloween costumes it seems like creepy clowns are gonna be all the rage this year between Pennywise and Twisty.

Hell, going as ANY clown is pretty much scary as hell TBH. But Pennywise and Twisty are the two best bets for actual recognition factor.

(Buy)

6. Eleven from Stranger Things

Granted, Eleven from Stranger Things is not really a scary character, but you carry a Lego waffle with you there is no question you would be the Belle of the ball this Halloween.

Stranger Things has been a huge hit, so going to a party, showing up somewhere as a grown up version of Eleven is guaranteed to get some cool responses. Plus, you'll have a waffle in case you get hungry at any time, and that's a bonus!

(Buy)

7. A White Walker from Game of Thrones

Ah, Game of Thrones. The TV show that has literally become a cultural phenomenon. You didn't think the list would be bereft of any entries from this fantastical show, did you?

And what better way to make the room go quiet than showing up as the Night King himself. The mask is really well done, with all the rigid, angular features we know so well from the character on the show.

By the way, extra 1000 points if you go to a Halloween party as a White Walker and never speak to anyone. Just stand there. That will REALLY freak people out.

(Buy)

8. A Horse

I know what some of you are thinking:

How is a horse mask scary?

Truth is, the horse head has gained HUGE fame over the last five years due to its use and popularity in pics and videos online. So as simple as showing up in a horse head mask may appear, people are gonna love it.

(Buy)

9. Morty from Rick and Morty

This show is SO HOT right now that showing up at any party dressed up as Morty from Rick and Morty is a surefire bet to get some reactions. Extra points if you can seem really nervous about everything and have your voice crack whenever you try to talk.

The best part is, it comes with mask and yellow shirt so all you need is the toy gun replica and some jeans, as well as a palpable sense of insecurity to really pull it off.

Wubba lubba dub-dub, motherf*ckers.

(Buy)

10. Jeff the Killer Costume

Now this, my friends and fellow fiends is one helluva scary Halloween Costume. Based on in the internet legend of Jeff the Killer, who would have thought a crappy, Photoshopped internet picture would end up making such a piss in your pants costume, but looks don't lie, and this shit is SCARY! Tha grin alone is just unnerving to the core.

Walking around dressed like this on Halloween would make some of the kiddies like Halloween a whole lot less and might freak out your neighbors (which is kinda fun, you gotta admit).

(Buy)

11. Inflatable Baby Boy

My God, my eyes have never seen anything scarier than a grownup dressed as a giant, balloon baby, walking around and demanding candy. Some outfits and Halloween costumes are definitely spooky, but this one is just wrong and once you see this thing in motion, it will haunt your nightmares until the day you die. Which, by the way, could be from a heart attack after witnessing this abomination in real life.

You wanna freak people out, a giant, adult baby wobbling around larger than life is a great way to achieve just that.

(Buy)

12. Billy the Puppet from SAW

With a brand new SAW movie about to drop (entitled Jigsaw), what better time to take Billy the Puppet out of retirement to scare some life back into people?

As many of you recall (or don't, who knows), Billy the Puppet is the little puppet that pops up before every scene or moment in Saw and warns of the details of the following trap. He is creepy as hell, so imagine the terror you will strike in people's hearts when you show up as an ADULT version of said doll and just keep asking people if they want to play a game?

(Buy)

13. Zalgo

Much like Jeff the Killer we showed before, Zalgo is a Halloween costume based on the Creepypastaabout a creature who incites crippling fear when someone looks into its hollow, red and black eyes. It is another example where an online story and skinsuit don't seem like they would go together but the end result is some genuinely creepy stuff.

Honestly, all skinsuit costumes kind of freak me out. Humans who have hidden faces are the scariest and dangerous humans of all. Doesn't hurt when the face is hidden behind something as hideous as Zalgo.

Wanna see an even SCARIER skin suit, though.

(Buy)

14. U.S.A Man

Um, I realize there are full-on monsters on this list, but is it weird I find this kind of (literally) blind patriotism to be scarier than the monsters? I mean, the person is a f*cking flag for crying out loud. From the clear bulge you must see in the groin area to the lack of eye contact, I feel like this costume is about as scary as it gets.

Don't get me wrong, I love that people support the U.S.A, but to do so in spandex with no face puts you just one notch under potential terrorist to me.

This is not so much a costume as it is a clear cry for help on our country's behalf.

(Buy)

Speaking of which, let's end this right..

15. Donald Trump Pouting

There are quite a few Trump options this year. There is even a cool one where you are standing on his shoulders, but I HAD to go with this particular mask because of how well-crafted it is. It really looks like him, even down to the hair and pained grimace and massive, orange pores.

Heck, he's even pouting just like the real thing. And if there is anything scarier than Donald Trump right now, I don't know what it is, honestly. To me, there is nothing scariest than an orange doofus with access to nuclear weapons.

Probably won't end well for us, but hell, maybe you can squeeze this one last Halloween in. Hopefully, the above Halloween costumes help make the decision a little easier for you.

(Buy)

Images and Costumes Via Party City andSpiritOfHalloween

Make sure your pet doesn't feel left out: Pets in Halloween Costumes

[hexterah]

(This mix was originally posted on LJ in February of 2008. I’m putting all my old fanmixes online w/ the info here! :D)

IF YOU HAVEN’T PLAYED THE FIRST BIOSHOCK, THERE ARE SPOILERS IN THIS FANMIX (just a warning XD)

1960. Your name is Jack. You're the only survivor in a plane crash in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Surprisingly, you find yourself near a curious tower jutting out of the water. You wade over, climb inside and find yourself in a sprawling underwater city, complete with clubs, apartments, factories and leaks. What was this place created for? Who created it? Why? How? It's a technical marvel, why hasn't it been all over the news? These are the questions you are searching for answers to, until more questions materialize, that is. Such as "Who is Atlas and why am I helping him?", "Why is my hand seething fire, insects and electricity?", "Why are these gigantic robots suddenly out for my head?" and "Oh dear god, why is that little girl chugging the red fluid she just needled out of that corpse?" Society here has collapsed, the people have gone absolutely out of their minds, everyone is jacked up on plasmids and now you're stuck in the middle of it. Welcome to Rapture.

Fanmix on Playmoss!: https://playmoss.com/en/hexterah/playlist/would-you-kindly-a-bioshock-fanmix (a couple of the songs won’t play on PM cause of the companies that have their music blocked -- they can be found on the actual youtube site though, if you wanted to hunt down the songs under the cut that the playlist skips~) 

bobby darin .. BEYOND THE SEA ... it's far beyond the stars it's near beyond the moon I know beyond a doubt my heart will lead me there soon ...

[ Take the bathysphere on down to your hometown. ]

................ 

Ignore the lies of Atlas and his parasites. Rapture is on the rise.

................

shiny toy guns .. STARTS WITH ONE ... only three i can’t seem to get enough anyway i can’t speak nothing to say anyway let’s show them the only way let’s show them our hearts ...

[ Don't mind the leaks or the bodies. Just watch your step. ] ................ Andrew Ryan asks you a simple question: are you a man or a slave? ................ temposhark f. imogen heap .. NOT THAT BIG ... I can cut my heart out just like you do and I can suck the life out of it just like you do i'm gonna pick myself up and pull myself together; never revel in recovery mode for when commitment is a dirty word you can't afford to ever slip or let down your guard ...

[ It might feel a little funny with the first injection, Jack. Just a little. ]

................ The Little Sisters Orphanage: In troubled times, give your little girl the life that she deserves. Boarding and education free of charge! After all, children ARE the future of Rapture. ................ the cure .. LULLABY ... on candystripe legs the spiderman comes softly through the shadow of the evening sun stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead looking for the victim shivering in bed searching out fear in the gathering gloom ...

[ Andrew Ryan is your God among Men. ] ................ Approaching a Little Sister is a criminal offense. Do not approach the Little Sisters. ................ gerard mcmann .. CRY LITTLE SISTER ... cry little sister (thou shall not fall) come to your brother (thou shall not die) unchain me sister (thou shall not fear) love is with your brother (thou shall not kill) ...

[ It's up to you, Jack, whether they're rescued or harvested, which means it's up to you whether the big brother in their chemically-enhanced fucked-up-beyond-repair family saves them or kills them and takes all the spoils as his own. ]

................ We all have bills to pay, and the temptation to break curfew to make a little extra ADAM is forgivable. Breaking the curfew is not. Stay on the level, and out of trouble. ................ three days grace .. NEVER TOO LATE ... no one will ever see this side reflected and if there's something wrong who would have guessed it and I have left alone everything that I own to make you feel like it's not too late it's never too late ...

[ People forget that the Big Daddies were once human too. ] ................ The smuggler is the friend of the parasite. It is your duty to report the smuggler. ................ radiohead .. ALL I NEED ... I am the next act waiting in the wings I am an animal trapped in your hot car I am all the days that you choose to ignore you are all I need you are all I need I am in the middle of your picture lying in the reeds ...

[ "Plasmids changed everything. They destroyed our bodies, our minds. We couldn't handle it. Best friends butchering one another, babies strangled in cribs. The whole city went to hell." ] ................ Rumor is the tool of the parasite. Fontaine is dead; Rapture lives. ................ videodrone .. ALONE WITH 20 BUCKS ... living, barely surviving freebasing life till its end divided soulless vices death before life could begin evil dollar bills, life stood still a tumor removed from your brain prescription refilled, a cure for my ill blood stains painted over again you tell me how to think you tell me how to feel cause I want to know what is real is anyone real? ...

[ If Ryan is Rapture's God, then Fontaine is his Lucifer. Once smiled upon for his actions, he's now Ryan's most prominent enemy. ] ................ Attention: A new curfew will be enacted on Thursday. Citizens found in violation will be relocated to Apollo Square. ................ dave gahan .. A LITTLE LIE ... I walk alone and you know I've never felt at home I'm so hard to please and I have everything I need ...

[ "Me family's in a submarine hidden in the foundation of Fontaine Fisheries. I'll meet you there." -- You'd better get used to being lied to, Jack. ] ................ Wanting an item from the surface is forgivable. Buying or smuggling one into Rapture is not. Stay on the level, and out of trouble. ................ joydrop .. BREAKDOWN ... and all the days you pushed around and all the times you lied to yourself and all the dreams we had just might breakdown ...

[ She seems to be the only one with a conscience on this sinking heap of metal. She also acts as yours. Listen to her. ] ................ Andrew Ryan reminds us: we all make choices, but, in the end, our choices make us. ................ kate bush .. EXPERIMENT IV ... they told us all they wanted Was a sound that could kill someone from a distance So we go ahead and the meters are over in the red It's a mistake in the making ...

[ Nothing holds back the experiments in Rapture. And nothing is saved from them. Plants, animals, children -- all up for grabs. ] ................ Wallet a little light? At Surgical Savings we'll happily work out an affordable payment plan for any major procedure. Potentially terminal illnesses won't wait until payday. Should you? ................ coheed & cambria .. THE HOUND (OF BLOOD AND RANK) ... come on, you've got to give it to me as though you want it too come on and set me free i'll dig it till we've made your grave oh, you've been a bad, bad boy i'll cut it 'til I carve it out and stick it in a sad, sad song why the bother, you're no brother you’re the wrong I need boy, we all found an audience while you found the worst of me ...

[ The body is a terrible thing to waste. So says the artist. One does the cutting and the carving and the other does the sculpting and the performing and they're two sides of one horribly twisted and beautiful coin. ] ................ Attention: Any public congregation of more than four persons is considered an actionable offense. ................ frou frou .. PSYCHOBABBLE ... do just what I tell you and no one will get hurt don't come any closer cause I don't know how long I can hold my heart in two make no sudden movements and no one will get hurt you're not coming over if you know what's good for me why would I be leaving you? ...

[ Andrew Ryan has a way with women, yes? Well, he also has a way with his children. A man chooses, a slave obeys. ] ................ The bottom of the ocean is our home, but it can also be a dangerous place. Any leak is a bad leak. Report any unexplained water promptly to the Central Council. ................ the birthday massacre .. PLAY DEAD ... thinking hurts and thoughts don't rhyme to those of us who've never tried to find a face behind our lipstick smiles and as our pretty faces die our plastic hearts will wonder why the make-up just won't hide the scars of time ...

[ "Now, would you kindly find a crowbar or something? Bloody splicers sealed Johnny in before they ... goddamn splicers." -- They were the citizens of this once thriving metropolis. Now they've been reduced to babbling, deformed maniacs who are only out for another high. ] ................ We all move the Great Chain, and the Great Chain moves us all. ................ moving units .. THE KIDS OF ORANGE COUNTY ... a suburban tease you can see their dirty knees you can see them bounce off a wall like a racquet hits a ball but they always come back again a Jamaican breeze you can smell the anti-freeze you can see the world is a maze when you're young and you're free to be anything you wanted to be ...

[ It's all about class, dollface, and you don't fit in! Parasite! ] ................ The parasite hates three things: free markets, free will, and free men. ................ brand new .. WELCOME TO BANGKOK [ instrumental ]

[ "Don't know what I was thinkin'. Never spliced up once the whole time I was down here in this aquarium. Figured it was bad to mix business with pleasure, but WHOOO! Forget all the nose candy and floor polish I been wastin' time with! THIS stuff is the mothers milk!" ] ................ "That's just the Plasmid Blues, Mary. You just need to slow down a bit on the splicing. Before you know it, you'll be as right as rain. Remember, a smart splicer is a happy splicer." ................ ambo .. BLUEBIRD ... and the sun was brilliant too ...

[ Maybe one day you'll see the sun again, Jack. ]