#it shall wait i fear for a more experienced self to pick up the pieces

[isawhitney]

Ode on Paul Cotterell

I can still see them sat down there: the man

and the dog. He and Theo, every evening. Stout

in his hand, he’d key into the thrum of the Drover’s Arms:

Farmer Murray whining at the price of good bull calfs,

A chiming of pint glasses. The man would overcast

His eyes and laze, but his crook-like smile

and the ears laid flat on his heart-dog’s head

Would tell you they were listening: he and Theo.

Theo: the dog in the corner, chin on the barstool. Theo

of the lager-coloured pelt. Theo with the lump

beneath his groin that wouldn’t go away. Until at last

the dog lay trusting on the veterinary’s table

And there was bile instead of bitter flowing

As the anaesthetic pulsed along: the sorrowful needle

and the man, eyes overcast. He and Theo.

Ah, but there’s nothing like a dog for bringing it home to you:

Leading you leashwise into that dark side-street,

Tottering home after closing time.

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Allurement: The Conniving Man

Yandere Namjoon x Reader

Warning- Creepy and suggestive actions. Heavily questionable motives.

From his peripheral vision, Namjoon could see her shoulders slumping as he drove through the road maintaining a low speed. He checked her sagging figure, eyes blinking languidly before closing completely as her head lolled to the side.

"(Y/N)?" he called her name, still unsure and lightly tapped on her shoulder, only to be met with silence "(Y/N), are you asleep?" he was met with silence again. She did not move, not even a flutter of her eyes.

As soon as he was assured that she was not awake anymore, Namjoon took a turn towards a more secluded road, somewhere he could be undisturbed, undetected.

"I am so sorry, little one," he whispered out, tracing her closed eyes delicately with his thumb before a secluded, dark corner finally caught his sight. As soon as he was done parking the car, Namjoon put all his focus on her. "You were so scared, shaking like leaf," he mumbled to himself, mind flooding with the images of her glassy, quivering eyes.

It had been such an experienced, to have her press flush against him, how her soft body seemed to melt into his, he was already putty when she looked up with her frightened, eyes, wide with fear and uncertainty. She appeared so fragile then like she would break if he held her too tight. But of course, it was a necessity, to terrify her with a 'stalker'. How else was Namjoon supposed to be close to her? Make her trust him as he would have liked her to? And to be honest, he enjoyed every moment of it.

"You would need to fear no one, little one," he sighed out, taking a few strands of her hair and curling them around his fingers, like he had been wanting to ever since he had set his eyes on her "I would take care of you, of all your needs, all your heart's desire. You would be safe with me. You are such a vulnerable little lamb, my sweet, you need to be protected and taken care of, don't you?" he sighed out, knowing that he would receive no reply.                                                    How gullible had she been, accepting an unlabelled lollipop from a man she hardly knew. he tsked at that, he was never letting her wander out of his sight again. And after tonight, he would not have to worry about her that much. The thought made a smirk curve his lips "Things we do for love." Namjoon whispered to himself before unbuckling his seatbelt, then hers. The thin, necklace she wore was already visible. He had seen her wearing it every time he had met her, she never seemed to take it off, what could be a better target?

Carefully, he took off the chain while she remained oblivious, immersed into a dreamless, heavy slumber, thanks to the 'simple' lollipop still melting inside her mouth. The locket shone under the light inside the car, with a slightly tense breath, Namjoon took out the chip, the tiny one carefully encased in a glass box, emitting a neon blue light. He felt his heart thrumming in excitement as he pulled out the tweezers from his pocket picked up the chip with delicate precision before facing its adhesive end inside the locket. The chip, more or less, fell inside and he hoped that it had stuck on the surface inside. But even if it did not, he still had her phone to chip.

Digging inside her bag, he found the weathered device. Namjoon's brows drew up together as he eyed her phone. He made a mental note to gift her a new phone, somehow, anyhow. He could not wait until she was in his arms, she needed a new phone immediately. Her phone was next to be chipped. Namjoon was precise, careful, almost too careful while he fixed the chip inside the device before putting it back in her bag and the locket around her neck. After making sure that everything appeared untouched, he pulled out his tab and proceeded to activate the chips. He wanted to make sure that he knew where she went, as well as collect her phone data. Her bag already had a chip in it, but it was not as reliable as the two he had fixed himself. Anything he had not taken care of himself in her case was unreliable in his eyes.

"You will be fine, Darling, safe, protected, I will always have my eyes on you," he whispered to her unconscious form as his thumb gently rubbed against her cheek.

The candy inside her mouth was half-eaten, he noticed the drool beginning to run down from the corner of her mouth. And there was something so fascinating yet incredibly arousing about the sight. So much so that his mouth dried up. He gulped before shaking the nasty thoughts from his head. Soon. He assured himself. Soon the time would come when all his desires would turn into reality. "You have no idea, huh?" he chuckled out as his thumb, previously on her cheek settled on her lower lip and rubbed the drool all over her partially-parted lips. It was such a salacious sight. But Kim Namjoon was a man of self-restraint and planning after all. He knew very well that it was not the right time, that he had to be patient. So instead, he settled for grasping the paper-stick of the lollipop and pulling the candy out of her mouth. A long string of saliva connected the glistening candy with her parted lips, making him lick his own as he fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the drool from her mouth before putting the lollipop on the piece of cloth and folding it, with the candy wrapped inside his handkerchief, he put the cherished item inside his pocket. A piece of her to keep while she would be physically away. Yet, he could not take his eyes from her parted lips, giving a peek of her teeth as she slept so peacefully, while he sat there in torment, feeling his pants beginning to tighten.

"Damn, you cruel temptress!"

Namjoon growled out before he found himself lunging towards her sleeping form and crashing his lips into hers for a passionate, unreciprocated kiss. Her lips had the hint of lemon and honey, from the lollipop, yet had a distinguished sweetness. The kiss felt euphoric as if he had won the world. And he would, he shall conquer the world and put it on her feet. He sucked on her lips and dipped his tongue into her mouth to explore. His breathing turned ragged at the sensation of her lips under his, he was already addicted. But he was compelled to pull away too soon, because if he did not, he was afraid that he could go beyond just a kiss, and he did not want that.

Namjoon could hear his heart beating erratically inside his chest- all for her- it was beating for her, because of her. He took a deep, shuddering to breathe to calm himself down. Her breathing was still relaxed, and he doubted if she would be up anytime soon. And it gave him so many opportunities.

With a satisfied smirk, he started the car and took the road to his penthouse.

****

Taglist(Kindly remind me later if I missed anyone)- @whatpageisthis @amoc94 @theresa-nam-nam-me @dearbambideer @casualminiaturetimemachine @njrwifey @kpopisnicee @illnevertrustmyselfagain @potterbrooke @luvaffaire @bighitfics

[merakimousumi]

Re-introduce yourself

Our introduction is extremely structured and the flow has always a format irrespective of Nationality , culture or race.

As a child you are taught to say your name . Every time someone visits home or you are meeting someone, the excitement is to share your name. Yay ... joyous moment. Soon another step would be added once you are getting prepared for the schooling, your name, parents name and the place you live. Phew!! you must have been asked millions of times to master it . The game has just begun. Every-time another dimension will be added . Your school , standard, in case you are captain in sports , drama , magazine etc etc. Then by the age of 18 years, you will start mentioning your percentage of marks , your parents background, the certificates you hold . By the time you are being interviewed for your career, you are a bunch of certifications and degrees and nothing else.

Remember your first visiting card , that had your name, designation with that Company logo . Even in social functions you carry it and distribute them like toffees .

In case, you choose to become self employed you will put up website, your office board with your name, educational qualifications, credentials and the skills that you have and you would offer !!

Oh , if someone who choose to be a family person like my mother or my aunts then observe how they introduce themselves. I am so and so wife , my husband is so and so . Soon will get graduated to be the mother then she will add that she is mother of xyz kids .

No worries, I have done all . Here I am not going to ask to read Robert Adams , Ramanan Maharshi or Nisargadatta Maharaj . In very ordinary way let me prick you to get the momentary taste of the teachings of these beings.

I was in Singapore, it must be some eight years back or little more. After long day at work wanted to carry my dinner from the nearby Indian food joint which served nice vegetarian meals. I ordered and was waiting in the lobby there. Those days my phone addiction was not there , was looking around to the hustle and bustle of the night life of the place. It was my first visit alone in that city , the curiosity level was higher. The man sitting across seems to be waiting like me for his food pick up. When the eyes met , he bowed gently and smiled. I reciprocated, out of courtesy. My order came, he made a wave to me and I waved back . Simple over.

Next morning at the breakfast table in my hotel , suddenly someone knocks my table and I look up to see the familiar face of the last night . He smiled and asked if he can join the table, again out of courtesy I nodded. I prefer not to speak with anyone in the morning as ritual, my way of energy management for the upcoming day. Nonetheless here is a day where breaking the norm is all you have . He seem to me from south east Asia so was not sure of his age, their skin and overall structure camouflage the age process well . Still went ahead and predicted, must be in his late fifties or more. Soon he mentioned he is from Malaysia and is here on a conference. I quickly pasted my trademark smile on my face and nodded. When he asked what bought me in Singapore, I had to make an effort to say a word. I uttered ‘Work��� . He immediately mentioned by Company’s name, that was a surprise for me. Quickly noticed from my laptop bag hanged my ID card the logo peeping out. I smiled again. He mentioned how he has travelled worldwide and learnt so many things from different cultures. I heard all of them , nodding my head and occasionally saying few words ( read mumble). When his breakfast was over he was a fast eater or I was slow , he handed me his card. It just had his name, contact number and email. A golden shining card and in black ink those three things appeared . No logo , no designation, no company. This was different!! I must have been looking at the card with some astonishing manner that Mr Kheo ( Yes that was his name) came closer to my ears and said , I am not even those written words on the card. I was a while ago a person who spent a great time with you . Next moment I shall be one with someone else. My identity cannot be contained in a small piece . He winked , waved and was gone!!

I had no clue whatsoever he said and shocked with what happened at that moment. Yet I never got over the statement. Every time since then whenever there was an introduction, I always remembered Mr Kheo , because his introduction bought a discomfort yet I saw something, unexplainable joy in his eyes.

The thought that kept appearing within me , is it possible of being stripped of all the accomplishments and identities which he would have invested and acquired in lifetime, he was completely okay not to highlight. In the world when we are all looking to grab every bit of spotlight, he wants to be invisible. Did not make sense to me. He spoke perfect sense in his narrative in the breakfast, his articulation was impressive, well choosen words and sentences of expression, he was no ordinary. Yet and Yet !!

Much later in my years or rather recently the fragment of the introduction was becoming clearer in my life. Books , teachers explained the I AM. Who Am I !!

Here is a point , after reading hearing how do I implement . Unless I understand deeper within all those are simply intellectual. Who Am I ? The name appeared, my position, my relationship, my freaking everything appeared. I had to start from scratch. I started my introduction rather re-introduction and I could not , it was a struggle. Here Stubbornness nature comes handy, I do not easily give up.

It was like when you have invested a lot of time in making a something and you thought that its great, suddenly you realise all was a mistake, you keep doing the same mistake thinking that it will miraculously change to magic and success. It is not easy to erase it, too much ego is attached. My identity.....

I wrote my introduction the one which was taught, started writing my name , names of parents, my educational qualifications, my jobs that I did so far , positions I held , Cities I lived , the relationship I have and had , the houses that I own , the finance that I built so on , I made a list .

Then I took every line and questioned Am I that ? Paused, looked within, on the surface I was , waited soon it dissolved. I strike the moment I felt I was not . Every time I was striking I noticed the tremor in my hand and fingers, even there was a refusal. Striking my qualifications was tough followed by my relationships. I sensed my investment there . After few period all was canceled, I felt empty, naked as if someone has just robbed me of everything that I had ever gathered in my life so far. Tears rolled down , uncontrollably crying like a child gripped with the fear was being invisible. So much effort has been made to make myself visible and here I am erasing it all .

Mr Kheo and I stood at same space in that moment. I closed my eyes , experienced what could be the oneness the great teacher spoke about or is it much deeper, I am not sure yet I knew the joy within me. Who Am I ? I see the I and the I sees me. I am one .

Being empty is also being full. Empty of fear full of joy , the gift that we are all born with sometime lost in transit.

Even today when asked to introduce myself, I begin by saying my name is so and so and to earn my living I extend my service to xyz Company, I play the role of a daughter, sister, mother and friend along being colleague to many . Once you have understanding of that I AM , the framing of your sentences changes forever. In my corporate life I do sometimes have to follow the framework, yet I know my awareness is enough to make it impersonal. Once one has been in that rabbit hole, life is never be the same.

I know Mr Kheo would never know that what he offered on that breakfast table and here I am, forever grateful. A regret I carry that I was not careful of keeping that card that eventually transformed me, I could have written him my story too. The only was to give back is to share here and if anyone can find themselves, that would be my offering.

Today, start by reintroducing yourself.

[jarienn972]

La Sirena -  Chapter Five

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer

Apologies for the delay in getting out the latest chapter of my @cssns​ story. With my kids back to school, I'm finding a bit less time to write so updates are running a little behind. I am still working diligently to keep the updates coming though!  Thank you @kmomof4​ for helping me fix a couple of minor roadblocks that I had with this chapter!  And thanks again to @courtorderedcake​ for her incredible artwork!

After leaving off with the major turning point of Killian learning the secret that Emma had been concealing, this chapter will pick up in the aftermath. Will cooler heads prevail once Killian awakens or will their budding relationship be tarnished? And of course, there's still no where else for him to go...

Read from the beginning:  One  Two  Three  Four  Also on AO3 and FF.net

Putting the Pieces Back Together

A faint tickle of a breeze caught the torch flame behind Emma's back casting uneven shadows across the cavern walls and sending delicate tendrils of smoke into the already heavy air. She was kneeling in the sand with Killian's head resting atop her thighs, not daring to stray from his side as her slender fingers combed idly through his tousled dark hair. She watched the rise and fall of his chest as she patiently awaited his awakening.

She'd frightened him. That hadn't been her intent but that damage was done and she was dealing with a relatively new emotion: guilt. Perhaps she truly was little more than a monster at her core. All of these decades of trying to suppress her innate urges and desires may have been for naught. All of her years of self-isolation hadn't changed who - or what - she was. She was still a siren. Still a threat to mankind.

Perhaps Regina was right. She'd never be able to change her nature.

But if she really was nothing more than a coquettish, evil siren, why did she have such a strong desire to protect this human? It went against every element of her being, every native instinct she'd trained and developed before turning her back on her kind. She scarcely comprehended these feelings.

Siren emotions were already complicated enough. She knew anger and indignation. She also knew emptiness. She'd been living here in solitude for nearly two centuries, give or take a decade, yet she'd never really experienced loneliness. She'd just felt that something was missing from her meager existence. She'd just never allowed herself time to think about what that void might entail.

All of that had changed the moment she confessed her true nature to Killian and he'd rejected her. Now she was overwhelmed with a barrage of new emotions - guilt, fear and something else that she couldn't yet name. For a nanosecond, she contemplated leaving him there in the subterranean cavern, doubting that he'd ever be able to accept what she was. But then she heard it again - the same tiny voice inside her head that had compelled her to save him from drowning now also compelled her to stay.

He was an intelligent being. Her revelation had been too much of a shock for someone recovering from the trauma he'd suffered. When he'd had time to process the news, he would hear her out, wouldn't he? She took a glance back over her bare shoulder at the beam of light streaming through the crack in the earth above the spring. The midday sun would soon be directly overhead and the ambient light would fade quickly within the lava tube once the sun's rays crested over the ridge.

Regina's arrival had backed her into a corner. She didn't feel as though she could adequately protect him if he wasn't aware of the scope of the threat, but now she worried he wouldn't trust her. In hindsight, she knew she hadn't handled her reveal well. Even though he didn't really have anywhere to go, she feared he'd run and the thought of that stung worse than even the most toxic jellyfish she'd ever encountered.

When at last he stirred, her siren heart nearly leapt with anticipation - another entirely new sensation for her. With a deep inhale, he raised his right hand to massage his aching skull, making incidental contact with her knee in the process. He yanked his hand away as if he'd touched a flame, his eyelids popping open in surprise as he struggled to regain coherency.

At first, he saw nothing more than darting shadows cast by the flickering torches but as his sight adjusted to the relative darkness, images gradually came into focus, becoming clearer and familiar. And then his peripheral vision captured the contour of a woman's soft, rounded ivory-skinned thigh and instantly, he was fully awake, recoiling in terror as he pushed away from the woman he no longer believed was real.

"What manner of demon are you?" he demanded, his voice pitching higher as he scrambled to take cover behind one of the aging sea chests, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment as he dared not stare at this unknown creature's naked, feminine form. "Are you some malevolent trick of my mind? Here to drag me to the depths of hell?" He couldn't fight this monster if he couldn't see her though so he reluctantly opened his eyes, focusing intently on her lovely beguiling face. Was this how a siren killed a man?

"Killian, please… Do not be afraid. I have no intent to harm you." She made an attempt to shift closer to him, to try to assure him that she wasn't a threat, but she feared she may have already done too much damage. The terror and betrayal she saw reflected in his eyes cut straight to whatever soul she had left as he continued to shy away from her.

"Don't come near me, demon!" he cried as he fumbled for the sword at his hip, sliding the blade free of the scabbard and brandishing it with an instinctive flick of his wrist. "Stay back… or I'll…" Both his voice and hand trembled at the same timbre while he held the weapon directed at her throat.

This scared human wasn't even the slightest threat to her. She could overpower him barely lifting a pinky finger, yet she was awash with that lonely emotion and it took control, leading to an unplanned action.

"Do it," she dared him, leaning into the blade. "I am a monster. End me!"

A glint of torchlight flashed off of the polished steel, illuminating her face which was etched with determination and his resolve began to waver.

"Wait… What…?" He shook his head in disbelief at her unexpected demand. His gaze locked with hers as she pleaded for death and his tenuous grip on the cutlass' pommel loosened. "No… no…" He may have been bewildered and perhaps a tad angered, but he couldn't take her life. She'd saved him.

"I am a siren, Killian. I have lured countless men like you to their demise, but while this is what I was created to be, it is not what I desire to be. I deserve to die for what I have done in my past…"

"But you saved me…," he stated as he allowed the sword to slip from his hand onto the dark, sandy cavern floor. His tone was softer as he relaxed and exhaled a deep sigh. "Whatever you are, I owe you my life…" He plopped his weary body down to the ground and drew his knees to his chest while lowering his chin in defeat. "I've no expectation of what will become of me, but I'll not harm you. If you intend to leave me here to perish, then that shall be my fate…"

"I don't wish for anyone to perish," she replied. "That is what brought me here all those ages ago. I had no desire to harm those seafarers any longer."

"But if you are a siren as you say, are the myths not true? Does your song not lure men like me to certain death? How did I arrive here still breathing?"

"At one time, I did use my voice in that way. I watched many a human plunge into the sea, transfixed and bewitched by the hypnotic spell of my siren song, at least until I could bear it no longer. Until you arrived, I'd not even used my voice in eons."

"So a siren can have a conscience?" he asked quizzically, raising one eyebrow as he awaited her answer.

"Apparently some can - at least this one, as I've been told," she said with a faint smile curling the corners of her lips, although it didn't last long as she switched the direction of their exchange. "But Killian, if we are to survive, there is much you need to know. You need to hear more of my story just as I must learn more of yours."

"How so?" His eyes narrowed as he sought to make sense of the statement. Part of his brain still questioned the veracity of any of this nonsense, but the adventurer within him remained intrigued.

"Do you recall, before you struck your head, how I had mentioned that my sister came here because I had used magic?" The memory was vague and somewhat clouded by his own skepticism but he nodded anyway and allowed her to continue. "In using my powers, I unwittingly drew the scrutiny of the council, the governing band of the most powerful sirens - of which I used to be a part. I hadn't used magic in quite a long time so I never imagined that something so innocent would have far-reaching consequences."

"What magic do you possess?"

"Aside from the ability to change form, I have other powers. Those chests you're sitting amongst, they didn't wash up on these shores as I told you. I conjured them and their contents so that you would have the objects you desired. I wanted to give you those things that the cove could not provide. I had seen many similar chests float in and out with the tides over the years, but I never kept them. I used magic to create them and I didn't think about the potential ramifications."

Killian's jaw fell agape as he listened to her confession. No one - not even Liam - had ever offered such a generous gesture meant for him alone and he was at a loss for how to respond.

"Emma… you didn't need to do such a thing…"

"I wanted to," she grinned. "I had been alone for so long and after these past few days with you, I found myself desiring to do something good with my magic. I wanted to provide for you and now, that act of goodness has put you in far greater danger…" He quickly averted his sight as she pushed herself back to stand up before starting to pace nervously along the precipice of the hot spring. "I must ask this - when I found you, you were clinging to a slab of splintered timber. Were you in a shipwreck?"

Still concentrating on focusing his gaze on the bounce of her golden locks rather than her feminine physique, Killian was taken aback. Of course, he'd been in a shipwreck…

"Aye," he replied. "Not my own ship though. I'd been taken prisoner aboard a pirated vessel that inexplicably ran aground. By the time I was able to crawl out of the flooding brig and reach the safety of the top deck, those rapscallions had all debarked, likely to an island off the distant horizon. No one was left in sight and I scarcely escaped with my life as the vessel broke apart and sank into the depths."

"You saw no one at all? Was the vessel sinking that slowly?" Emma asked curiously, pausing her pacing as she awaited his answer.

"It seemed to be taking on water quite rapidly to me so I assumed they'd taken off in the skiffs, but to answer your question - no. I saw no other men, not even my fellow crew who'd also been imprisoned, although if I'm to be honest with myself, they were likely already dead by the time the ship went down. I was the ranking officer, thereby the most valuable prisoner."

"So that's it…," she mumbled as she hovered to his right, fixated on the sparkling surface of the spring. "That's how Regina knew they may have left a survivor… Killian, don't you see? You didn't see any others aboard the ship because they'd already succumbed to the song of the sirens. The ship ran aground because no one was helming it."

"How is that possible?" he queried as he raised his head in renewed curiosity. "I heard no singing, only the cracking of aging wood and the slap of the waves on the hull."

"You heard nothing? No song?" She spun around to face him, bewildered by his statement. "If the sirens attacked the ship, you would have heard their song."

"I swear to you, I heard nothing out of the ordinary, at least not until the vessel struck the rocks and began her unraveling. Are you certain that your kind assailed that vessel? It's highly likely that the pirates merely strayed off-course."

"No," she insisted, shaking her head. "Regina specifically mentioned that a ship had sailed into siren waters… In the condition I found you in, you could not have traveled far from the wreck so it must be the same vessel she spoke of. None of the sirens would have waited around to watch the vessel disintegrate but some of our ne'er do well fellow sea-dwellers reported rumors of a survivor in the wreck and those rumors reached the council. That's the reason they became suspicious of me when I utilized my magic… You must be that survivor."

Killian's head was suddenly spinning again and this time, it wasn't from the concussion. Sirens were a part of maritime history and mythology that he'd been educated in. He'd entertained countless yarns about ships that strayed into uncharted waters, never to be seen again. All manner of sea monsters had been attributed to these vanishing vessels but tales of sirens had always been particularly beguiling. Demons taking the form of beautiful women were said to lure unsuspecting sailors into the sea where they'd devour their unfaithful hearts.

But they were all only mythical… Until now…

"According to the legends I grew up hearing, sirens preyed upon lonely sailors far from home and family. The siren song was said to enchant the unfaithful amongst them, luring them into the depths of the sea where they'd be devoured. Is that how it really happens?"

"That isn't entirely true, but it is very close," Emma explained. "The song does lure the unsuspecting sailors, but only those deemed unworthy of passage through our realm by the gods. The unworthy are not allowed to travel through our seas and the song puts them into a trance. The men will then leap from their ships into the sea and sink to Triton's lair. I honestly do not know what becomes of them after they drown, what Triton desires of them. It never mattered to me, not then and I certainly did not dwell upon it after I departed the council."

"Until you found me?" he offered, shivering at the fate he'd narrowly avoided. "This may be a pointless query, but has any man ever been found worthy?"

"Well, long before my creation, there was a single human whom Poseidon deemed to be worthy to pass. That man went on to become a great leader of his land and for a while, there was peace between the realm of man and that of the gods. Unfortunately, that man's successors were nothing like him and the years of peace ended. Triton ordered all of the creatures in his command to defend our realm from the evil of mankind. Poseidon unleashed innumerable monsters including dozens more sirens, including myself and for many years, I followed the orders of the gods…"

"I've heard many tales of these legendary gods of the sea. Never in all my dreams did I imagine they were real and that they alone determined the worth of a man."

"I broke away from the council when I began to suspect that the gods harbored more of a vindictive grudge against these men of the sea. I could no longer be convinced that there weren't good men among those we had deceived. Not every man could be so evil."

"Indeed, there are men with good hearts out there but I shan't deny that there is evil in the world. I've encountered those who might barely be described as human, yet most folk are just going about their lives and wish no harm. It would seem that the same might be said of the legendary siren as there is at least one who possesses a good heart… But if we are to circle back to the pirate ship I escaped from, how did I come to survive? Was it because I was secreted away in a cranny of the cargo hold? Was I too far below deck to hear the songs?"

"No, it doesn't work like that. The siren song resonates through every inch of a vessel and carries for several leagues out to sea. It is intended to be heard by every human ear that ventures into our realm."

"That makes little sense to me then," Killian countered. "Why didn't I hear the siren voices? I hear you speaking to me just fine as I am not deaf and despite my injury when you rescued me from the water, I had been fully conscious just prior to the ship's grounding."

"I… I do not know," she stammered. This was another first for her and she had no response. She honestly did not have any inkling as to how he'd resisted.

"Do you still possess the ability to sing?" he asked her bluntly and she found herself ill-prepared to answer.

"I am not entirely certain…," she told him, her voice trembling at the possible implications of the question. "It has been centuries… I believe I am still able to sing, but I cannot predict the outcome. There may be ramifications that you aren't ready for and it may hasten Regina and the council's return…"

He tried to avoid the darkening of her olivine eyes as she pleaded wordlessly for him to reconsider, but it was the only way he might discover how he'd managed to remain alive.

"Emma, you must," he pressed. "It's the only way I'll know… That we'll know. You would be able to tell right away if the song has the desired effect, correct?"

"Of course, I would know. I just cannot promise that I can stop it as I've never tried…"

"Then consider this your chance to find out," Killian stated bravely, although inside, his stomach was churning at the huge risk he was taking. "I must learn why I was spared, Love. Please, indulge my curiosity and desire to solve this one mystery…"

"Killian…" She didn't want to do this. She'd vowed to never sing again and she certainly didn't want to endanger this man she'd become so fond of. Could she deny him the answers he so desperately wanted? She'd know within a few notes but even if the song ended abruptly, would she be able to reverse its effects if he wasn't immune?

[bytheangell]

Choosing to Stay

(Read on AO3) (Continued from This Fic, but could stand alone well enough!) 

Jace is afraid he’s going to be the odd man out. He thinks being a Shadowhunter, being the son of Valentine on top of the fact that he’s entering into an established relationship between two vampires, is going to be the biggest set of obstacles for the trio to work through.

He’s wrong.

In fact, his lineage seems to be a non-issue. Jace imagines Raphael must’ve said something to the clan because Jace doesn’t get so much as a side-eyed glance his way when he’s at the Dumort, and being with Raphael and Simon is so easy it scares him. Neither of them seem the least bit bothered by who he is - they aren’t worried to have him around the rest of the clan, not even a little concerned if he overhears Downworlder discussions. Honestly, they treat him more normally than his own people had when they found out.

Raphael has a room set aside just for the three of them that no one else is allowed in - the scents of his mates are the only ones that permeate the bed and chair and even the thick fabric of the blackout curtains. When Raphael finds out Jace plays the piano he has one set up in the room, across from a space for Simon to work on his songs or graphic novel. Jace is worried the music will bother Simon so he tries to only play when Simon isn’t there, until Simon admits he likes to listen to Jace play and the music actually helps him concentrate. Soon Jace finds himself playing for both Simon and Raphael and learning what they like to learn more of.

Raphael’s dry wit is the perfect complement to Jace’s own boastful comments and sarcasm, and Simon… Simon’s funny, much funnier than Jace will ever admit to him out loud. Jace is endlessly amused by Simon’s rambling humor and Simon laughs at Jace’s snark, and they just seem to work. They balance each other with all their opposing traits, and whenever one of them has a bad day the other two don’t hesitate to show up in their room as soon as possible. It might be the only place Jace has ever felt nothing but positive associations with.

It’s only been a month but the three of them seem to understand each other on a level Jace never anticipated experiencing. Soon Raphael and Simon are picking up on the sort of things that only Alec and Izzy ever noticed about him before, like the way his sarcasm is usually a cover for an immediate insecurity, how he’ll push decisions off on others when he’s exhausted and doesn’t want to admit it. Instead of letting him slink into the background until he’s ‘his normal self’ again, they encourage him to voice what he’s thinking and follow those moments with comfort and care. They say they loved it when he’s his honest self with them, and he believes them.

Jace spent his entire life denying the parts of himself that Raphael and Simon seem to love so much, and it isn’t long before he’s not only comfortable enough around them to accept the compliments and praise, but comfortable enough to seek it out on rare occasions. Like now. With another heat coming up Jace knows he’s been a little extra affectionate, and even with his suppressants he’s needier than he’s ever been in his entire life. Instead of hiding it he allows it to show, allows himself to feel everything and act on it instead of pushing his wants and needs aside. This will be his first proper heat with Raphael and Simon (obviously not counting the one he spent in his closet with them waiting outside), and it’s also the first heat he’s ever done anything other than dread.

Everything’s going great…. which is why Jace doesn’t understand when Raphael suddenly starts pulling away. He catches moments of rushed, whispered conversations between Simon and Raphael that stop abruptly when Jace enters the room. He can smell the anxious spike that the sight of him begins to bring from Raphael, despite his alpha’s best efforts to hide it, and wonders if he was wrong about how well the three of them were getting along.

Maybe things aren’t as great as Jace thinks they are.

Maybe Raphael only tolerates him out of obligation, because they’re true mates, and that’s what he’s expected to do… but not because he actually wants to.

There are a few times Jace almost brings it up. There are a few more he considers cornering Simon and convincing him to talk about whatever it is, because he’s positive that Simon has more insight into whatever Raphael’s thinking right now than he does. This thought is even more upsetting considering Jace thought they were all on the same page not too long ago.

He doesn’t want to put Simon in that position, though. If Jace is the problem - and he’s growing more and more convinced that he is - then he doesn’t want to put Simon in a spot where he’ll have to choose sides… not that it’d be much of a choice. Simon and Raphael were together first, after all. They’re both vampires. Jace doesn’t have any misconception of exactly how this will play out once it comes to a head.

Jace ignores it for as long as he can. He hopes his suppressants are working to hide the worst of his anxieties and when he can’t keep his emotions under control he keeps his distance instead. But he can’t keep going like this. He had a taste of how perfect things could be and he wants that back. He needs it back… or he at least needs to know it’ll never happen again so he can stop hoping.

Which is why the next time it happens, instead of ignoring it, Jace hesitates in the doorway.

“If you don’t want me here just tell me,” he says finally. He wants to lift his head and turn his gaze defiantly toward the alpha but he can’t bring himself to lift his eyes off the spot on the floor they fall on. Still, he said it. It’s out there now.

“What?” Simon says. He sounds surprised, but Jace can’t imagine it’s because he doesn’t know what Jace is talking about. Maybe he’s just surprised Jace managed enough courage to bring it up. “Jace, no, of course we wa-”

“Not you, Si,” Jace says, cutting him off and turning to Raphael. This time he does lift his head. He meets Raphael’s eyes but there’s no challenge there. He doesn’t want a fight, he just wants the truth. “You.”

Simon turns to face Raphael, too. Jace doesn’t think he’s ever seen Simon look so serious, and it does nothing to calm Jace’s fears. “Talk to him,” Simon says to Raphael.

Raphael remains silent, but his gaze shifts from Jace to Simon.

“You didn’t lose me, you won’t lose him either,” Simon adds, almost too quietly for Jace to hear, before leaving the two of them alone.

Lose him? What is Simon talking about?

Jace knows it’s useless to put on a brave face when his scent gives him away, but he stands tall anyway, taking a Nephilim soldier stance with his hands clasped loosely behind his back. It’s an old habit he barely realizes he’s doing.

The tension in the room grows as a long silence stretches between them in Simon’s absence. Simon is always the talker, the one that starts the conversations they need to have and so, so many unnecessary ones as well. Without him it’s obvious neither one of them wants to speak first.

“I’m sorry,” Raphael starts, at length. “For being distant recently.” He pauses. “And for making you feel like you're not wanted here. You are, very much.”

Jace looks uncertain. “I haven’t… I mean, with how needy I’ve been lately with my heat coming up, I thought maybe it was just too much-”

“No,” Raphael is quick to cut off. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Jace nods. He believes Raphael - everything about him, from his scent to the cadence of his words, says that he’s telling the truth. But he’s clearly upset, and if he isn’t upset with Jace then what is he upset about?

“It’s me,” Raphael says finally. “I’m afraid I can’t be the alpha you need me to be for you right now. Or, maybe, ever.”

It’s difficult for Jace not to panic at a statement like that, one that sounds so resigned and final.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jace says, fighting through that initial fear. It’s only been a few weeks but he can’t imagine a world without Raphael and Simon by his side, one where they aren’t everything he needs and more.

Raphael lets out a surprised laugh at that. “And so you shall,” he agrees. “The truth is that I’m not interested in sex. Which I know goes against practically everything an alpha is meant to be.”

Feeling the breath catch in his throat, Jace tries to push past it, ignoring the slightly burning tinge his scent takes on in his anxiousness over the fact that he was right and Raphael doesn’t want him. “You don’t want to have sex with me,” Jace repeats.

“No, not just you. Anyone. I’m simply not interested in sex. I never have been,” Raphael clarifies. “I’m asexual.”

“Oh. Okay,” Jace says. It isn’t a concept his mind immediately accepts, because it isn’t one he understands. “That’s…” But he doesn’t know what to say, still processing, still figuring out exactly what that means for him.

“I understand that right now especially, having an alpha that can’t, that won’t…” Raphael hesitates. “It never mattered if this was a dealbreaker for others before, because I never cared about others the way I care for you and Simon.”

“Simon knows,” Jace realizes, finally piecing together Simon’s words from earlier. You didn’t lose me, you won’t lose him either. Raphael had this talk with Simon too, at some point before Jace.

“He does,” Raphael confirmed. “And please, don’t be mad at him for not telling you. I asked him not to. I wanted it to come from me.”

“Were you ever going to tell me if I didn’t bring it up first?” Jace is vaguely aware that he’s mostly stalling now, but he can’t bring himself to mind.

“I was. I wanted to before now, but I didn’t want to ruin things. But obviously I would’ve, before your heat.”

Right. Jace’s heat. Which he was going to go through without an alpha to, well…

“I’m glad you told me now,” Jace says finally. “It’s, uh, good to know. Definitely changes a lot of my… assumptions… which I’m realizing now were wildly off base,” he admits. He had ideas in his head of how this first heat with Raphael and Simon would go, which he’s realizing now weren’t just wrong, but a bit unfair of him to just assume.

“If this isn’t something you want, I understand,” Raphael says finally.

Jace hesitates. He knows the position he’s in now, the power he has here. He can walk away. He can say it isn’t enough and walk away and that’s on him. He can tell that’s what Raphael expects him to do. He’s an omega, after all. And what’s an omega to do with an alpha who doesn’t want to have sex with him? At least for Jace that answer is simple.

“If you’d rather end things now there will be no hard feelings...” Raphael continues, trying to give Jace an easy out, but Jace isn’t hearing it.

“Why would I end things? You and Simon mean the world to me, Raphael. You know that, right?” Jace says. Until now they’ve been standing across the room from one another, Jace only a few steps closer from where he initially paused in the doorway, and Raphael several feet away. Jace closes the distance between them now. “We weren’t having sex before, so this doesn’t change anything.”

“But your heat-”

“I’ve gotten through them alone before, I can do it again.” Jace knows this is different, more intense than before now that meeting his true mates seemed to override all of the good his suppressants did in the past, but now doesn’t seem the time to bring that up. “You’re not just some walking knot to me, okay? I-” Jace hesitates, but fuck it, if now isn’t the time he isn’t sure when it would be. “I love you. Both of you. And this might not be what I expected but that doesn’t mean I’m going to walk away from it. I’m definitely going to need a few more talks, but… we’ll figure it out.”

“We will?” Raphael echoes, and Jace notes the surprise in his tone.

“We will,” Jace reassures him, closing the distance entirely to take Raphael’s hands in his own. Jace brings their hands up to his lips to place a gentle kiss across the back of Raphael’s hand by the knuckle of his middle finger. “You didn’t lose me, either.”

There are so many questions he has, and they have a lot of boundaries to discuss, especially with Jace’s upcoming heat, but he’s willing to try to figure it out. No, he wants to figure it out, to put in the work to make them work, no matter how unconventional their particular trio may be. Right now it feels like more than enough to let the information settle with the knowledge that Jace isn’t going anywhere, and they’ll have plenty of time to figure the rest out later.

“I’m glad,” Raphael says, flipping Jace’s hand in his own to return the kiss against the back of Jace’s hand, taking a moment to breathe in along Jace’s wrist, smiling as he pulls away, satisfied that Jace isn’t just lying to make him feel better. There’s a true feeling of acceptance there, any previous fears and anxieties quieting within them.

When Simon returns a little while later to see Jace at the piano while Raphael reads on a chair in the corner, his feet curled up under him, a smile spreads across his features.

“Told you he’d stay,” Simon says matter-of-factly.

Raphael rolls his eyes slightly but is unable to stop the slight smile from tugging up at the corners of his lips.

Jace smiles, too. He chose to stay today, and he’ll choose to stay again tomorrow, and the next day, and every day after that as long as they’d have him.

It’s the easiest ‘choice’ he’s ever had to make, and he’s grateful for every day he gets to make it.

[hannahrose130]

Devilish Daydreams

Everyone Deserves a Classic

Waking up is the first step in everyone’s daily schedule. Leaving a dream can feel haunting to the human mind as it goes throughout the day. They try so desperately to put the puzzle pieces together in order to relive in the forgotten land. Some try so hard to remember they distract themselves from their jobs. Using daydreams to complete the story, see what happens, and to break down the plot twist. 

On the other side of the spectrum, one could find themselves waking up in a sweat. Fear coursing through their veins, the amygdala pulsing with adrenaline as the brain rushes out of the nightmare. A self-induced illusion of terror and horror. As the person sits up in bed, hurrying their gaze around the room, wondering if the threat was real. If the shiver running down their spines were justified. They hurry out of bed, hoping to forget the night terror they just experienced. They calm their heart rate and finish the first step of the day.

Alastor McCarthy’s first step of the day had been tampered with and compromised. When he opened his chocolate eyes every morning at 5:30 am on the dot he didn’t long to return to the land of paradise or fret over imaginary monsters his mind created. Alastor simply woke and got ready, for he can’t understand anymore the difference between a daydream and a nightmare.

Now, each individual’s daily routine is unique. Some like order while others prefer the livelihood of chaos. To live by the moment, not knowing what will happen next. Alastor McCarthy was not overly fond of those types of people. He liked the order, he liked to keep things consistent. 

Step one of Alistair’s daily schedule: Wake up and get ready. This can include - but not limited to - washing his face; brushing his teeth; combing his straight chestnut hair; putting on his work clothes. Step two: Eat a nutritious breakfast. Alastor cooked two eggs sunny side up with a side of bacon and whole-wheat toast. A glass of orange juice. The warmth of Louisiana allowed the glass to fog with condensation.

Step three: Go to work. Mr. McCarthy worked downtown in a semi-tall building, around four or five stories. It was a dirty red brick building with ivy running up the side. It led to small insects finding home within the walls of the studio Alastor worked at. He was granted his own channel a few years back. 

Alastor was a well-respected man in Louisiana. Men laughed at his witty jokes, women swooned at his symmetrical face, and children adored his upbeat taste in music. They danced whenever he played their favorite songs. Drivers listened to him as they sped around the city. And while the fame wasn’t a plus in his eyes, Alastor loved his job. He worked from 6:30 am to 11:00 am, giving him enough free time to do as he pleases for the afternoon. On rare occasions, he gets asked to stay late to plan out the next week’s script. 

Step four: Leave work and relax. Alistair’s idea of relaxation was a thing of mystery. More often than not he liked to be alone, strolling through the town, having short friendly conversations with bystanders. Sometimes Alastor would visit his bartender friend, Henry. The young man way, to his dismay, Alistair’s best friend. The two men were close in age (Alastor being 26 and Henry a strapping 24) and in relation. Step five: Return home and prepare. The radio host preferred to keep his nights open, in case anything were to arise or if he was preoccupied, then he would have enough time to get done what needed to be done. 

He followed this schedule without fail every day (on the weekends he followed it the same besides for the work). And for a while, Alastor McCarthy thought nothing would change that. Little did Alastor know that he was very wrong.

It was a weekend, Saturday, to be precise, and Alastor already had a plan for his week. To understand what Alistair’s plan was one must know Alastor was an addict. A “junkie” - as the term would later form - in need of a fix. While it may have looked like it from the outside, Alastor McCarthy was not a perfect man. He had flaws, major ones. And his excellent plan was to indulge in this bad habit. The bad habit that condemned him to hell. Now the first step of his plan was to go to the bookstore.

It wasn’t a large book store nor was it well known. Alastor came across it on one of his afternoon walks, it wasn’t too far from his own house, a ten-minute walk at most. It had a green-blue wooden sign above the door with snow-white print. There were books displayed in the glass windows and advertisements on the glass. As soon as he laid eyes on the small hole in the wall store, a familiar itch nipped at the back of his mind. An itch he hadn’t scratched in some time - too long of a wait. And he needed to scratch, oh so bad. 

Inhaling the air filled with the smell of the street, Alastor kept his bright smile and ventured inside. As he opened the door, bells chimed indicating a potential new customer had walked inside. He walked further, his dress shoes softly tapping against the short carpet.

Alastor immediately saw her, what he came here for. She was across the store, looking at a magazine. Her lipstick was a shade of red that complimented her eyes. Her fingers flipped through the pages carelessly. She didn’t seem to mind if there was damage. Her short flapper hairstyle was modern, sleek against her head. Clearly from the way she stood, hip stuck to the side, she wasn’t exactly pro-women. The term “flapper” was meant to show a strong side of the female gender. To prove they weren’t little things to abuse and that they were strong. The woman holding the magazine was most likely following the trends. 

For a moment her eyes flickered toward him so he walked behind a bookshelf. He grabbed a random book from the shelf and turned his head down, sneaking glances at the women who moved onto another magazine. 

He was observing her when a light tap was felt on his left shoulder. Alastor tensed, he did not like to be touched. Whipping his head around, he snapped the book closed and faced the person who was desperate enough for his attention to invade his personal space. Why didn’t people get the concept of personal bubbles?

Alistair’s eyes peered through his small oval glasses at a figure smaller than his own. A woman. She wore no makeup but was wearing a plain dress with little accents. She had an apron on with the name of the store hand-stitched onto the left breast of the cloth.

“Hi, can I help you, sir?” What Alastor noticed was how angelic her voice was. He shook his head no, perhaps she could satisfy his scratch. The worker nodded and was about to move away when she noticed the book in his grasp. “You’re reading The Great Gatsby? It’s my favorite. What’s your favorite part?”

Alastor smiled stiffly and looked back at Magazine Woman, who was still happily reading and looked back to the woman in front of him. “I enjoyed the ending quite a bit.”

Miss Worker’s listening smile shifted into an unfamiliar, slightly opened smile. She nodded, her hair bounced with her movement, “Ah, yes. I just loved how the robbery didn’t uproot Nick’s life so much.”

Alastor nodded in agreement when he saw the smug look on the woman’s face. Ah shit, he had been caught in a lie. The chestnut-haired man laughed into his chest. “That’s not how this story ends, I presume?”

The worker shook her head, an ever-growing smile on her face. “Not in this book. If you were looking for a book with that ending, I recommend the back shelf at the top.” Alastor changed his smile from a forced one into something genuine. This little darling was very interesting. “I’m Y/n. I’m the manager, can I help you find something you are actually looking for?”

“Well, darling, I’m not quite sure what I am looking for if I’m being honest. I just wandered in here, in hopes of finding something worth my time. Perhaps a cookbook? Or shall I stay here and pretend to read this?” he held up the thin book. 

Y/n fake gasped and snatched the book from his hand, “How dare you say such horrid things. This will be a classic.” He informed her it was published only last year. “I am well aware of that, sir,” she opened the book and flipped through the pages. He watched as her fingers danced across the flutter of the paper. He could tell she was entranced by this object. “People generations from now will read this book and fall in love with the story.” She looked at him teasingly, “So don’t expect me to condone someone insulting this masterpiece in my bookstore.”

He chuckled, “My dear, my name is Alastor.”

“I’m aware of your name Mr. McCarthy. I listen to you on the radio from time to time. So I know who you are, Mr. Radioman.” Alastor chuckled at the nickname. Y/n turned to go back to where ever she planned to go. “And Mr. McCarthy?” He perked up at his name. “The cookbooks are behind you.”

Turning around, Alastor saw the books on the lowest shelves. 

Time had passed, no more than fifteen minutes, when Alastor felt as though he were lingering too long. He found it hard to not stare at the woman who teased him as she went about her business, helping other people as they needed it. Finally, it was time to check out. 

With two cookbooks in hand, Alastor walked to the front counter, his smile never leaving his face. He set the books down and dug into his pocket for his wallet. Y/n picked up the books, placing them into a paper bag with twine handles. She offered her smile as he handed over the amount owed. 

“Did you find everything okay?” Y/n asked as she put the money away. 

The radio host nodded, “I’m not sure I found what I intended to, nor what I sought out in the first place, but I’m pleased with my purchase nonetheless.”

“Well, I’m glad,” she handed him the bag with a smile. Their fingers grazed each other’s and for once, Alastor didn’t mind the light contact. “I hope to see you again soon, Mr. Radioman.”

“Likewise, Ms. Y/n,” Alastor bowed his head as he opened the door, the bells chiming as he left. 

As he walked down the street, humming a happy tune, Alastor noticed something odd about his purchase. There was a third book. And not just any book, it was The Great Gatsby. Confusion made its way into his eyebrows as they furrowed slightly. He parked on the side of the sidewalk, as so to not bump into other people, and reached to grab the book. Sticking out of the book was a note. 

Everyone deserves a classic.

He silently chuckled at her neat cursive. He flipped open the book when he saw writing on the first page after the cover. It was originally blank but was used to take another note. The same pretty cursive that was on the small loose piece of paper. 

Alastor,

I hope you find what you are looking for. In the meantime, I feel you would enjoy this story’s ending better than the last.

She signed at the bottom. His finger ghosted over the writing, not wanting to cause any smears from the blue ink. Alastor smiled, this time his eyes held more than just a facade. He put the book back and carried on. 

Alastor thought about it for a moment. Maybe he did find something. Not what he was looking for at the beginning, oh no. Something much different. The reason he could tell? The mental itch nipping at the back of his mind was gone. 

[blackleatherjacketz]

My Brother’s Keeper: Chapter 13

Negan x Reader

Featuring: Morgan Jones, King Ezekiel, Nabila

Summary: Your brother runs away from the Sanctuary and you pay the price. This Chapter: You arrive at the Kingdom under false pretenses with your new friend Morgan.

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Zombies, Ezekiel’s Medieval Speak, Fear

Word Count: 2196

Read the rest of the story HERE!

Morgan ran to those men on horses as they tried their best to fend off the undead, more of them coming out from behind corners of abandoned buildings. He sprinted much faster than you, his legs pumping his feet into the dirt before you could even start moving yours. You kicked yourself for staying inside the Sanctuary all those years without trying to keep in shape. Maybe you could have jogged around the perimeter every morning or lifted weights with Laura, but that time had come and gone, and you had to act fast.

You took off behind your new friend, pulling your knife out as the screaming wheezes started echoing in your ears. Out of breath, you shoved your knife through a deadbeat’s skull, watching Morgan obliterate a few of them with ease out of the corner of your eye. Man, he was really good at fighting, and you were just… okay.

You kicked one of them onto the ground, giving you space to take out one that almost took a bite out of Morgan’s shoulder. You pulled your knife out of it and felt your arms start to ache, the repetitive use of your weapon making your muscles scream for rest. Only you couldn’t stop, couldn’t pause to rub your sore biceps before bending down and ending the deadbeat you’d kicked down a second ago. Man, living on the road was hard work.

The nervous neighs of the horses quieted down as the last of the undead were laid to waste by Morgan’s staff and the other two men’s swords. You could feel your heart beating wildly in your chest, drumming heavily against your ribs as you looked at the three other people left breathing. You looked at Morgan who glanced around the perimeter, surveying it for any more stragglers while he twirled his stick around again like a ninja turtle. He looked at you and nodded, thanking you for saving him before looking up at the mounted men on horseback.

“Thanks,” one of them started, “Those wasted came out of nowhere!” He looked at Morgan alone, and rightfully so.

“Yeah, they do that,” Morgan grinned, more to shield his eyes from the sun than to show a pleasant facade.

“Are you guys out here all by yourselves?” One of them asked, finally making eye contact with you.

“It’s just us,” you answered, wiping more sweat off your brow. You paused and tried to slow your breathing, hoping to disguise just how out of breath you actually were. You holstered your knife and looked at Morgan. “We were just walking when we heard the horses,” you pointed toward the turn in the road where you came from, trying to make your story more visual.

“Well, we thank you kindly, both of you. I’m Daniel and this is Jackson.” The one with dark hair pointed to his fair-haired friend. “We have a place you can stay for the night, get a home cooked meal if you want.”

Morgan stepped in front of you, eyeing the young man suspiciously.

“No, not like that, I mean,” he cleared his throat. “We’re from a larger community with other women and children too. She’ll be safe there, you both will.” Daniel looked at Morgan like every man did at your father after shooting your sister a wandering eye.

Was Morgan actually defending your honor from these people he barely knew but was so eager to save? If only he knew the sick shit you were up to at the Sanctuary, maybe then he’d realize that you didn’t have any honor left to defend.

“A home-cooked meal sounds nice.” You placed your hand on Morgan’s shoulder, softly pushing him to the side as you spoke for yourself. “We’ve been on the road for a while now.” You gave him a silent nod of approval, wishing you could tell him what you knew about the Kingdom to ease his mind.

“Yeah,” he finally agreed. “If it’s not too much trouble.” He kept his eyes on you, pupils shrinking in scrutiny. “We are a little hungry.”

———————————-

Your trip through the Kingdom was just as beautiful as your first, only this time you didn’t have Negan or the threat of your brother’s life looming over your head as you took in all the sights and sounds. The lilacs were still in bloom, the apples still ripe on the trees, and the children still laughing as they played. If you hadn’t seen it all before, you would have sworn you wouldn’t believe this place actually existed, but you were here in one piece thanks to this strange man and his stick.

You watched him take everything in, disbelief and wonderment constantly battling for dominance over his dark and worn features. Daniel and Jackson were now on foot as they showed you around the premises, giving you both fresh fruit in exchange for your weapons until further notice. You weren’t really comfortable with this practice, but Morgan seemed to hand his staff over quite willingly, a sort of peace washing over him as he did so. You furrowed your brow as you watched him surrender, not quite sure what kind of man he was just yet. If you could tell anything about him, though, it was that you wanted him on your side.

You turned your head to find a woman in a hijab tending to strawberries in the garden, her mocha skin glowing in the sunlight as she collected the bright red fruit into a little green basket. She nodded at you and offered you one, seeing you had already finished the nectarine Daniel had given you.

“Thank you.” You held her hand as she planted the fruit in your palm, feeling her rough and honest fingertips slip over yours.

“The King is just up this way,” Daniel said, pulling you away from your potential new friend.

“The King?” Morgan scoffed, looking at you while you devoured your strawberry.

“Elvis?” You decided to play along, realizing you’d gone a little overboard after the word had already left your mouth.

“King Ezekiel rules the Kingdom. He’s a fair and just leader, and he’ll decide if you stay or go.” Daniel turned toward the two of you, walking backwards as he spoke. He smiled and waved to the other villagers as he did so, picking a blueberry out of a basket before turning around the face the theater. The theater! Finally!

You sucked in a deep breath as you prepared yourself to see him again, the majestic man on the throne accompanied only by his ferocious tiger, Shiva. But wait, wouldn’t he recognize you? Wouldn’t he immediately cast you out? Would you be able to follow through with Negan’s orders if he didn’t? You felt your arms and legs begin to shake, to quiver in fear of being found out as Daniel opened the heavy doors to the theater. Self- doubt crept over you like a heavy cloud full of acid rain, thundering only in your heart and in your mind. You wanted to run, to go back on the road with Morgan fighting those deadbeats until you reached another city or state. You wanted to keep going until there was nothing left but the beach and the ocean, but that door was already open.

“Hey,” Morgan placed a calming hand on your shoulder, seeing you struggle. “It’s gonna be okay.” He smiled and nodded toward the open doors, gently guiding you into the slightly cooler building.

You took in a deep breath, letting it out as you returned his smile and entered the place you had to pretend was new. The smell of it brought you back to weeks ago and even further back to your younger years. Every theater, just like every church, had a similar and comforting smell to it. Maybe it was the wood on the stage itself, or the fabric of the chairs and curtains as they mixed together… whatever it was, it felt like home. But you couldn’t let that fool you, though, no matter how wonderful this place made you feel, you had to stay focused.

“Daniel! Jackson! Who do we have with us today?” The King’s voice interrupted your thoughts as Shiva roared in your direction, that storm of self-doubt drowned out by the thunder in the tiger’s lungs.

“Your majesty, this is Maria and Morgan. They saved our lives on the road while we were out on patrol.” Daniel walked briskly in front of you, stopping directly in front of the King’s throne. “These are their weapons.”

You stepped behind Morgan as you watched the King examine the tools presented to him, trying not to make it too obvious that you were hiding from his line of sight.

“What are you doing?” Morgan whispered to you between gritted teeth.

“I’m,” you scrambled, “Afraid of tigers.”

“Morgan! Maria! Welcome to the Kingdom! Where are my manners? I am King Ezekiel.” The King outstretched his arms from the throne, smiling wide with those beautiful white teeth of his. “Come! Let me lay eyes on those who have saved my brethren from the wasted when you need not be bothered to wander off the beaten path.” He let his arms fall to his side, gently resting on the throne.

Morgan looked at you, surprised by the King’s words as you did your best to act like you’d never experienced them before. “We did what anyone would have done,” he addressed the King, not completely believing in his own words. He started walking forward, leaving you behind as he shrunk in height down the carpeted ramp.

“Nonsense! Tonight you shall sup with us and take refuge in our quarters. Daniel and Jackson are now safe again because of your valiance, and you shall both be handsomely rewarded.” His eyes lit up with excitement as they wandered over to you, finally within range for him to see.

Oh no, you felt a rush of heat flush your cheeks and neck. Did he remember you? Did your haircut and change of clothes fall short of a disguise in the King’s court? Was your interaction with him all those weeks ago that memorable? Was he going to change his mind once he figured out who you really were? Would he send you away and let Morgan stay?

“What say you, Lord Morgan and Lady Maria?” The King was all but standing in place, leaning forward as he offered what Maria the traveler would have no doubt killed for. You had to play your part, no matter how uncomfortable it made you.

“Aye!” You chanted, relieved that he didn’t see right through you. You winked at Morgan, giving him the impression that you were just as thrown off as he was.

“Aye,” he repeated after you. “Yeah. That would be good,” he smiled tentatively.

The King clapped his hands together, looking over at Jerry whose name you weren’t supposed to know yet. “Jerry! See to it that our guests find themselves in the most comfortable of rooms after dinner tonight.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Phew, you thought. So far so good. ——————————

“What if this place is like… Jonestown or something?” You paced Morgan’s room with your arms across your chest, seeing what he thought of the Kingdom now that the two of you were alone.

Sure, this place was better than the Sanctuary, and everyone seemed really happy here, but that’s all that you knew. Negan never talked about the Kingdom, not really. For all you knew they could be making human sacrifices behind his back and he’d be none the wiser. Your emotions were heightened, your world turned upside down and all you wanted was to make sure you weren’t falling into a trap.

“Jonestown?” Morgan laughed and took off his shoes. “Is this the first community you’ve encountered?”

You could’ve lied and said yes. “No.” You uncrossed your arms and leaned against the wall. “But it didn’t end well there, either.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” He paused. “You scared?”

”Hell yeah, I’m scared.” You wished you could tell him exactly what you were scared of, to trust him completely with your thoughts, but just like back at the Sanctuary, that was a luxury you couldn’t afford. “These people are nice, Morgan; too nice, if you know what I mean.”

”It’s the tiger isn’t it?” He smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

”It’s not the damn tiger.” He wasn’t falling for it. Maybe you were just being paranoid, after all.

“They could have killed us on the road,” he started, looking at you earnestly. “In the theater or at dinner, here in my bedroom, but they didn’t.” He swallowed hard, looking up at you from his spot on the twin bed. “You could have done the same, but you didn’t, either.”

You laughed, looking up at the ceiling.

“You could have let that walker bite me, but you took him out.” He took off his socks and folded them together, tucking them into his boots at the foot of his bed. “Why don’t you give them a chance like you gave me?”

“I’ve known you for a grand total of about ten hours, okay?” You held up your hands in defense, displaying all of your fingers.

“Yet you’re in my room asking for my advice.” He placed his hands solemnly on his thighs, letting out a heavy sigh. “Look, I know the King… does his own thing, but, let’s give him a chance. The both of us. If you still feel weird by this time tomorrow night we’ll get out of here together.”

“Fine,” you sighed, crossing your arms again. “I’ll see you in the chow hall for breakfast.”

-------------------------------

Tags: @genevievedarcygranger @negansdirtygirl22 @letsby @annablack1102 @irrelevantwriter @chamberofsloths @negans-network @rasa1945 @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @namelesslosers @collette04 @bishsposts @haleyea @bodhi-black @mblaqgi @ptite-shit @jamiekingofmen @ibelongtonegan @chloejanedecker1 @divadinag,@you-are-electric-temptation-girl @dxloverpunk @tylersblurrylittleface @marriedtonegan @astrobabezblog

[katsen13]

Second Chance

Feel free to reblog, but please do not repost to other sites without permission first.

General Content: Angst, moodiness. Time travel (please excuse any plotholes I may have missed). Not 100% canon, obviously.

References: The Avengers, Thor: The Dark World, Avengers: Age of Ultron, Captain America: Civil War, Thor: Ragnarok, and Avengers: Infinity War. *MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THESE MOVIES.*

Chapter-Specific Content: *SPOILERS FOR INFINITY WAR* Torture, angst, sacrifice, graphic death. Let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: Tony and Loki’s journey reaches its peak.

A/N: This chapter was hard for me to write, you have been warned.

*Click here for Chapter 8*

*Second Chance Masterlist*

CHAPTER 9

     Once in the Quantum Realm, Loki turned to Stark. “What is the plan now?” Loki asked though he didn’t need to. Somehow he knew this would be their last journey together.

     “We’re going to Thanos’ ship,” Tony answered, looking straight ahead.

     “And then?” Loki inquired, his face steady and expressionless.

     “You and the Hulk will already be there...” Tony hesitated, biting his lip. He closed his eyes with a sigh. “And Thor.” He quickly turned to Loki. “You have to understand, before I left... I don’t know if... I’ve seen so many--”

     “I know.” Loki interrupted calmly, his voice understanding. “I’ve seen them too.”

     Tony sighed. “I should’ve known better than to think, really to hope, that you wouldn’t.”

     Loki arched his eyebrows, an exhausted smirk on his face. “You thought I wouldn’t still come?”

     Tony cocked an eyebrow. “Can you blame me?”

     “No,” Loki grinned, letting out a small chuckle as he shook his head. “No, I can’t.” Tony smiled wryly, no longer fighting the exhaustion that crept over his face.

     “So, Thor, the Hulk and I will be there, plus you and I.” Loki continued, getting them back on track.

     “Yes,” Stark confirmed. “I planned on stopping to pick up some help along the way, but the suit...” his voice trailed off.

     “As long as it gets us to the ship, we’ll be fine,” Loki reassured him. He already knew what the man had left unspoken.

     Tony nodded in response, but he was far from convinced. Loki found himself pleasantly surprised by Stark. He had never expected to see such bravery in a human. He knew Stark was scared; no sane mortal in his position wouldn’t be, yet in spite of it, he carried on with his plan. He had seen such bravery before of course, in Stark and his friends, but he had just chalked it up to human ignorance and arrogance. Seeing it now though, he realized how wrong he had been. 

     “We’re here.” Tony interrupted his thoughts. He looked grimly straight ahead. Loki saw through the determined facade and read the fear and worry on Tony’s face.

     Tony turned to Loki, hesitating. “I don’t know what we’re going to find there.”

     Loki gave Stark a small, mischievous smile to mask his own feelings. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

     Tony nodded firmly and engaged the suit one last time.

     [Thanos’ Ship] Tony braced himself as the suit disengaged. He hoped that his timing had been right and that no one would notice his and Loki’s arrival. He opened his eyes and looked around. He and Loki were behind a pillar on the ship. He could hear Thanos’ voice as he spoke but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. As he leaned forward straining to hear, he noticed a growing heat on his wrist. He looked down at the panel on the suit and saw it fizzling and crackling. His eyes widened in panic as the sound increased and the heat intensified, sparks flying from the edges of the screen. Before he could react, Loki’s hand quickly shot out, covering the panel. Tony recognized the tragically familiar smell of burning flesh and looked up at Loki incredulously. The mischievous god didn’t notice as a faint, golden glow emanated from his hand, cooling down the panel before it powered off. Loki pulled his hand back and glanced at it quickly before looking up at Stark, who looked slightly unnerved.

     Before either could say anything, an agonizing cry shattered the quiet of the ship. Loki’s heart skipped a beat. His face paled and his eyes widened as he recognized the sound of his brother. He slowly rose as if in a trance, being pulled toward the cries. Panicked, Tony grabbed his arm to stop him, though it wasn’t necessary. Loki easily slipped free of Tony’s grasp and motioned for him to stay there. Steadily, he crept forward into a crouched position and cautiously glanced around the pillar. He saw himself standing there, watching as Thanos slowly pushed the power stone into Thor’s skull.

     “ALL RIGHT, STOP!” Loki shouted, standing before Thanos, cringing at his brother’s suffering. He lowered his head, defeated. Thanos’ children smiled maliciously as they stood close behind Loki on every side.

     “We don’t have the Tesseract.” Thor rasped, gasping for air. “It was destroyed on Asgard.” Loki felt a sharp pang at the sound of Thor’s broken voice. It took everything he had to remain behind the pillar, watching and waiting.

    Loki glanced at his brother, an almost apologetic look in his eyes. This wasn’t how he wanted it to go. Slowly, he lifted his arm, his fingers extending as the Tesseract materialized in his hand. He noticed something out the corner of his eye. As the Tesseract glowed in his hand, he stole a quick glance and saw himself ducked behind a pillar, presumably with Stark close by.

     Thor looked up at Loki with a defeated expression, his face beaten and bloodied. “You really are the worst, brother.”

     Feeling a renewed hope, Loki looked down at Thor. “I assure you brother, the  sun will shine on us again.”

     Behind the pillar, Loki watched with bated breath as he approached Thanos. Loki could feel Stark shifting behind him. He turned and saw Tony’s face creased in agitation. He met Tony’s gaze with a meaningful look as he lifted his hand, telling him to wait. Tony stared at Loki for a moment before nodding, trusting him.

     “Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian,” Thanos spoke as he loomed over Loki.

     “Well, for one thing, I’m not Asgardian.” Loki corrected, as he held the Tesseract out to Thanos. “And for another... we have a Hulk.” A bone-shaking roar broke out as the Hulk charged Thanos. Behind the pillar, Stark’s eyes widened. Loki tackled Thor and rolled him out of the way toward the pillar just as the Hulk lunged into Thanos. Quickly recovering, Loki immediately checked on his brother. Relief flooded over him as Thor’s chest slowly rose and fell. He shot a quick look over his shoulder. All of Thanos’ children looked on as he fought with the Hulk. Convinced he wasn’t being watched and that his brother was safe for the moment, Loki ducked behind the pillar and joined Stark and himself.

     Tony looked at Loki suspiciously. “How did you know Hulk would do that?”

     Loki smirked, his cape draping over his shoulder. “It’s nice to see you too.” Tony eyed Loki warily. His smile faded, taking on a sad, distant demeanor. “Let’s just say I saw more in the Quantum Realm than either of us wanted.”

     Tony’s brow furrowed. “But you still helped me.” It was more of a statement than a question. He lifted his gaze to meet the green-eyed god’s. He blinked when he realized that the young Loki was now about the same age as the Loki he had picked up in New York. His eyes were different now than when he had first met him in Thanos’ torture chambers. They had seen and experienced so much more in the few years that had passed since then, as if the torture hadn’t been enough.

     Loki shrugged as he moved closer to Tony, with a slight, mischievous smile. “Well, I could tell you needed it. I mean, let’s face it, you were pretty desperate.”  Tony smirked in spite of himself. At least the formerly younger Loki had kept his sense of humor.

    The once younger Loki cleared his throat. “Speaking of help,” he stuck his hand under his cape. “I know what you said, but I thought perhaps this could be of use to you.” He withdrew his hand to reveal the Tesseract in one piece.

     Tony’s eyes grew slightly. He looked up from the Tesseract to the trickster god’s mischievous grin. “Uh, thanks...” he replied a little uneasy, unsure how to respond.

     “May I see that?” Loki asked, extending his burned hand. The other Loki nodded and held it out to him. As he grabbed it, their fingertips brushed. There was a quick flash as they both jerked away.

     “What happened? You guys ok?” Tony asked, bewildered. Both Lokis stared at each other stunned, with their eyes wide and mouths slightly open.

     “We’re fine,” Loki answered quickly without looking away from himself. He noticed the other Loki look down at the burn on his hand questioningly. He glanced at the Tesseract, still in the hand of the other Loki before locking eyes with him. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.” His eyes quickly flicked to Tony and back.

     Tony jumped as the panel on the suit suddenly started powering up. Still holding the Tesseract, the once younger Loki reached out and grabbed Tony’s other arm.

     “Let go!” Tony struggled, trying to pull away.

     “If I do, you’ll be stuck there forever.” Loki grimaced, fighting to keep a hold of Tony. The Tesseract began to glow in his other hand. Tony’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he realized what was happening. He frantically turned to the Loki he had started his whole journey with, wide-eyed. “No! Don’t do this!” He begged.

     Loki met the human’s panicked eyes with a calm, cool gaze. Tony stopped struggling as their eyes met. “Everything will be ok,” Loki reassured him, his voice calm and peaceful.

     Loki looked at his other self who was now pinning Tony’s arms behind his back, their eyes meeting one last time. They nodded to each other as the suit engaged. Tony began struggling again, more fiercely than before. He desperately struggled as if he was fighting for his own life, but his efforts were futile.

     “NO!” Tony cried just before shrinking out of sight with the other Loki, a brilliant flash left in their wake.

     Loki looked where Stark and the other version of himself had been. “It was the only way.” He whispered quietly. Slowly rising to his feet, he took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. Opening them, he stepped out before Thanos.

     Loki approached Thanos slowly, drawing closer as he spoke. “I, Loki, Prince of Asgard...” Loki hesitated and looked over at his brother one last time. His heart ached for his brother. He hoped that he would one day understand why he did all of this.

    “Odinson. The rightful king of Jotunheim, do hereby pledge to you...” Thor furrowed his brow as his brother’s dagger materialized in his hand. He closed his eyes, silently cursing him.

     Loki lifted his eyes to meet Thanos’ gaze. “My undying fidelity.” Loki took a deep breath in to steady himself before he lunged forward, his dagger drawn and raised, pointed at Thanos’ neck where it froze.

     Thanos smiled at Loki, the gauntlet raised. “Undying?” He slowly grabbed Loki’s arm with his other hand. “You should choose your words more carefully.” He grabbed Loki by the neck with the gauntlet and lifted him off his feet. Loki kicked and clawed at Thanos desperately, instinctively, even though he knew what must happen; he knew it and he had accepted it.

     Loki gasped for air, his eyes bulging and red with blood as he looked at Thanos. “You will never be... a god,” he choked, his eyes watering and his vision fading. Thanos tilted his head and smiled at Loki before clenching his fist.

@parkerspicedlatte @therandomnessofages @geekofmanythings16

[the-enraptured]

Running Ahead

As a child I experienced a lot of dread. Panic, horror, dread. Every second was painful that I wasn’t at my own home. I buried myself into the snuggest corner of the couch I slept on and tried to hide and sleep all day. When I was awake I’d pick out my eyelashes and bite my nails. I had racing compulsive thoughts, “turn the light switch on and off five times or you will die.” I’d have a thought that I was going to get “left behind” or that I would go to hell when I died without any specific reason. I had surreal dreams about things I didn’t do in order to blame my guilt on something, because at my dad’s house, I was always doing something wrong, but I just couldn’t understand what it was. I thought about death a lot. I checked the weather in third grade daily to see if there would be a storm. If dark clouds loomed over my school, dread. I was shaken.

Sometimes I still feel that level of shaken. I recently went through a wave of freedom that is completely indescribable. Now things are changing in my life, I’m getting a new job, it’s a new year, I’m about to fly on a plane, I feel like I have to be strong for everyone else, self sufficient, I have to be a positive testimony, I have to make the right choices.

Friday I was walking the halls of the daycare and emotion swept over me. I’ve grown accustomed to my routine, but also the kids I teach everyday. I complained to God, because I knew He wants me to move on from this chapter. “I feel so safe here!”. God whispered immediately back; “I don’t want you to be safe, I want you to be free.”

Truth sets us free, I know that. But I talk about freedom so much because it’s such an enigmatic topic for me. What is freedom?

I didn’t get to play outside, hang out with friends, or feel content. How do you tell a bird that’s spent it’s whole life in a cage to be free? I guess gradual exposure.

I compare myself to people I really shouldn’t. Like Paul. He risked his life sharing the gospel and healing the sick. He was in constant danger. I’m not currently living up to that standard. Should it be mine?

My dear friend Debbie Brown told me the other day a piece of her testimony where God told her to be patient with other people, as well as herself, and not to run in front of Him. I think I was trying to run ahead of God, pulling on His arm like I did to my mother as a child. I would get so bored of looking at just one animal at the zoo. “Let’s go!” I’d shout, trying to see what would happen next. Now my boredom has turned into suffering. What do I do when Christ is asking me to sit with it for a minute, instead of fearing fear?

In the book Hind’s feet on High Places, the main character Much Afraid must travel with Sorrow and Suffering, holding their hands. Why would the Good Shepherd ask her to do this? After her journey, Sorrow and Suffering reveal their true names, Joy and Peace.

When I get four to five hours of sleep a night due to panic attacks, I have to keep doing what I know to do. I can’t stop, but I can’t run ahead. I must be thankful, think of others and not just myself, and enjoy the presence of the Lord.

“I have been young, and now am old; Yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, Nor his descendants begging bread. He is ever merciful, and lends; And his descendants are blessed. Depart from evil, and do good; And dwell forevermore. For the LORD loves justice, And does not forsake His saints; They are preserved forever, But the descendants of the wicked shall be cut off. The righteous shall inherit the land, And dwell in it forever. The mouth of the righteous speaks wisdom, And his tongue talks of justice. The law of his God is in his heart; None of his steps shall slide. The wicked watches the righteous, And seeks to slay him. The LORD will not leave him in his hand, Nor condemn him when he is judged. Wait on the LORD, And keep His way, And He shall exalt you to inherit the land; When the wicked are cut off, you shall see it. I have seen the wicked in great power, And spreading himself like a native green tree. Yet he passed away, and behold, he was no more; Indeed I sought him, but he could not be found. Mark the blameless man, and observe the upright; For the future of that man is peace. But the transgressors shall be destroyed together; The future of the wicked shall be cut off. But the salvation of the righteous is from the LORD; He is their strength in the time of trouble. And the LORD shall help them and deliver them; He shall deliver them from the wicked, And save them, Because they trust in Him.”

Psalms‬ ‭37:25-40‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

[sublimedeal]

The TenKei Trading Techniques 4.0

The TenKei Trading Techniques 4.0

The TenKei Trading Techniques 4.0 Whichever Way The Market Moves You Really Can Trade And Grow Rich

Hello, This is the latest updated version of the TTT! This is the TTT 4.0! Believe it or not, it has taken me years to come up with this and now when I look at it, it all seems so simple and straightforward… I guarantee that’s just what you will think once you see it. This particular module contains everything you will see in the other modules!

The TTT 4.0 is all about the usage of the New 73/22 Parabolic Stop And Reverse Indicators (as I have named it). I created it by combining the Parabolic 0.02, 0.2 Custom Indicator with a second Parabolic which makes a perfect all round Indicator and Setup and Entry Indicator. Where you Exit your Trade, is where you are happy with your profits! No Trading technique is 100% perfect but based on the setups and follow through of the market moves, this new TTT 4.0 is pretty close to perfect. This system works, if you want to just try and see if this makes you happy, then the TTT might not be for you but if you’re ready to buy it, it means you are serious about yourself and you’re ready to succeed.

And we would never want you to be unhappy! If you are unsatisfied with the performance of the TTT, contact us in the first 30 days and we will give you a full refund, under the condition that you provide proof in the way of statements or records list showing that you really worked on the system for the full 30 days.

Now Test The TTT 4.0 By Getting Started — Click Right Here!

Or if you need to know more, read on… The whole course is based on, around and upon what I mentioned above, being the 73/22 PSAR Indicator. All you have to do is choose a module that suits your needs and your pocket.

So, please do be sure to choose your/a module once you decide what you wish to learn. Yes, don’t ‘Beat Around The Bush’, don’t ‘Dilly Dally’ and please don’t ‘Procrastinate’ (in whatever you do in life) any longer, as this has been on its way to you for years! I truly ‘Believe’ that this is what you have been waiting for… ….so do it now!

This module being The TenKei Trading Techniques 4.0 contains all of the modules from the other courses, where you’ll have all you need to get you started, whether you be a seasoned Trader or a brand new starter. This module is by far the best module to choose and once chosen, all you have to do is Watch, Listen and Learn (and thereafter, Earn). Thanks for reading

Wilson P Williams P.S. Although the TTT can be used on any market of your choice, my main focus throughout the course is about Trading the DAX 30. Now Test The TTT 4.0 By Getting Started — Click Right Here!

A Very Personal Message From Me: It wasn’t easy creating this course as I sat around for well over a year thinking about how to perfect the TTT, as in what to do and how to do it and when it came to me, I sat around thinking as to whether I should release it and when I did, I was compelled to share verses and scriptures from the Bible with you. Sharing verses and scriptures from the Bible with others is something I have never done before and it’s not even something I wanted to do but I felt compelled to do it, I felt pushed to do it, I felt challenged by God to do it, so, I did it! “For God Has Not Given Us A Spirit Of Fear And Timidity But Of Power, Love And Self Discipline!” 2 Timothy 1:7 NLT My late Mum always used to say to me: ‘Son, read your Bible, read your Bible!’ and the more Mum said it, the more I resisted it! Has that ever happened to you?

You know, the more someone pushes you towards them wanting you to do something, the further away from them and that something you want to move and sometimes, listening to your parents is just not cool, especially when it came to reading a Bible? I mean, I wanted to run from my Bible!!! So, I ran to reading ‘Personal Development’ books and listening to ‘Personal Development’ Audio tapes, CDs and then Media Files etc…

Now Test The TTT 4.0 By Getting Started — Click Right Here!

It wasn’t until I started reading and listening to the ‘Personal Development’ books and materials as written by Napoleon Hill, Dale Carnegie, Earl Nightingale, Brian Tracy and many more that I heard them quoting passages and verses from the Bible! And that’s when I started checking to see if what they were saying was true and really from the Bible — and it was! “If Thou Canst Believe, All Things Are Possible To Him That Believeth!” Mark 9:23 I then realised (over many years) that most of the very best courses from many of the very best ‘Personal Development’ authors were developed on the fundamentals of the Bible, being Faith, Hope and Love. Now, without making this a lengthy piece (or sermon) to read, do your own research, for every Motivational Quote you may hear from now on, grab a hold of a Bible and see if you can find it or the equivalent passage or verse within the Bible.

Believe but don’t forget to test what you are told… Test everything that you are told! Read — 1 Thessalonians 5:21 Test what I am telling you too! My testing what others said came about by default but from here on in (with maybe a few exceptions) all of my Motivational Quotes will be, from the Bible. Now I’m not saying give up on your Motivational Quotes, as I think they are very good and in fact, they have got me to where I am now, which is, writing to you! But it does mean I now go directly to the source, directly to the message rather than having The Truth diluted by a messenger. That’s my story. Now, if you haven’t already done so… go pick up a Bible and remember to buy the TTT 4.0 module! Now Test The TTT 4.0 By Getting Started — Click Right Here!

“May HE Give You The Desire Or Your Heart And Make All Your Plans Succeed!” Psalm 20:4 In these times, regardless of what you ‘Believe’ and to whom you ‘Believe’… …God Bless You!

Wilson Author and Creator Of The TenKei Trading Techniques, TenKei Trading Techniques 2.0 and TenKei Trading Techniques 3.0 Your Instructor Wilson P Williams

Wilson P Williams I am the teacher for this school, where I will show and explain how to read financial charts to determine how to profit from them. 10% Of All Profits From This Course Will Go To Back To GOD!

via: 1. Giving To The Church 2. Giving To Charity 3. Giving To Those In Need Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it. http://ift.tt/2xczYzj Join Me By Giving One Tenth Of Your Profits Back To GOD Too!

Class Curriculum An Introduction From Wilson P Williams  Preview An Introduction And Hello From Wilson

Introduction – What To Do First  Preview 1. The TenKei Trading Techniques Online Course

 Preview 2. The Meaning Behind The Word TenKei

 Preview 3. Sign Up To LCG Today!

Getting Started  Start 1. How To Set Up Your Charts – Part One

 Start 2. How To Set Up Your Charts – Part Two

 Start 3. How To Set Up Your Charts – Part Three



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The TenKei Trading Techniques 4.0 published first on http://ift.tt/2qxBbOD

[viralhottopics]

My Life as a Robot

I have been part robot since May. Instead of legs, I move on gyroscopically stabilized wheels. Instead of a face, I have an iPad screen. Instead of eyes, a camera with no peripheral vision. Instead of a mouth, a speaker whose volume I can’t even gauge with my own ears. And instead of ears, a tinny microphone that crackles and hisses withevery high note.

Im a remote worker; while most of WIRED is in San Francisco, I live in Boston. We IM. We talk on the phone. We tweet at each other, but I am often left out of crucial face-to-face meetings, spontaneous brainstorm sessions, gossip in the kitchen.

So my boss found a solution: a telepresence robot from Double Robotics, which would be my physical embodiment at headquarters, extending myself through technology. Specifically, an iPad on a stick on a Segway-like base. The telepresence robot market is crowded, ranging from high-end offerings like iRobot’s Ava (starting price: $69K) to the relatively more affordable Double, which starts at $2,499. The company says it has sold nearly 5,000 of them since its launch in 2012. Mostly these go to big corporations like IBM and McDonald’s, but I’ve heard of teachers and hospitals using them, too. Supposedly all a Double needs to work is a strong Wi-Fi signal.

Christie Hemm Klok/WIRED

The first time I opened the Double interface in Chrome and clicked on an icon of my robot 3,000 miles away I was greeted by the pixelated image of my boss’s torso and a few headless coworkers. There probably were some instructions somewhere that I should have read, but I didn’t. “How do I move it?” I asked them. “We don’t know,” they said. I clicked around. Nothing. I tried the arrow keys and, boom, jolted out of the robot’s charging dock and toward onlookers. I was like a foal, learning to walk. It took about 10 minutes to discover that a) driving a robot using a browser interface is clunky and b) the hip flooring choices of WIRED’s office were going to be my nemesis, with every transition from concrete to rubber to carpet providing another opportunity to fall on my screen.

Growing Pains

Before I ever tried the robot, I was sure I would hate the thing.I thought it would make me small and flat and foolish. I thought it would be annoying to deal with, would require me to wear pants (something we remote workers often don’t do, world!). I thought it would make me a novelty, a sideshow, a joke. And I thought it would be a waste of time.

Diary Entry: Day 1 Nice to meet you…robot, is it? says a strange torso I encounter in the kitchen.

EmBot, I say, Nice to meet you, too!

The figure leans down and puts a hand out to shake. Helpless, I move the EmBot from side to side using the arrow keys in what I hope translates as a gesture of excitement, rather than malfunction. Ill never really know if it worked out. The screen freezes and when it comes back, the torso is gone. I am alone, standing in a stream of humans trying to get breakfast.

Its just me, a robot, waiting in line for the human food I cant eat, I say. No response. I repeat it a few times. Is this thing on?

When I boot up, some of my original fears are realized: I’m disoriented and silly and helpless. I am a spectacle. People ogle and take pictures. I feel like a dog, the recipient of gawking smiles that say, Awwww, youre so adorably unable to take care of yourself. But, most importantly, I am surprised to find that being a robot is delightful. It’s thrilling. I am in the office! There is the kitchen! There is Sam! Hi, everyone! I am here!

Diary Entry: Day 2 I roll over behind Sams desk for a brief chat about a deadline. She hasnt heard me approach. I dont know what to do. If I just say her name shell freak out. I Hipchat her, Look behind you. As soon as I do it, I realize thats creepy—but its too late. She turns and there I am.

Hi, I say as casually as possible, I just–

Sam cuts me off. Em, she says, can you control the volume? Youre very loud.

I am? I ask.

YES, the entire bullpen yells.

I find and adjust the volume. I guess I was screaming all day.

Later that morning, I experienced the joy of being in the daily editorial meeting as a robot. Plunked at the end of the conference table, my iPad head tracked the conversation, listening. Yes, I interrupted people because my browser was a few seconds behind. Didn’t matter. I heard Molly on the phone from the Caribbean and she was barely audible. The audio system sucks. As she was trying to talk people were kind of looking exasperated. Not at her, but at the system. That was me two days ago, I kept thinking. Two days ago that speaker system was my only conduit to theentire company.

It was then I knew I could never go back. I felt so superior as my robot. I loved my robot.

I Am Become EmBot

The crazy thing about being a human 3,000 miles away from your telepresence robot is that divide instantly dissolves when you activate. As soon as I call into EmBot, I am her, and she is me. My head is her iPad. When she fell, I felt disoriented in Boston. When a piece of her came off in the impact, I felt broken.

Nothing drove home the depth of my connection more than the first time someone touched my robotic body without asking. My coworker (who shall remain nameless) came up to gawk at me, and then moved behind my screen. As I was chatting with other people, he picked me up and shook me. I expected pranks like this. Id have done the same thing if I were in the office and it were some other poor schmuck calling in to a stupid robot from far away. But I didnt expect how instantly violated I felt. He just picked up an extension of my body. One moment I was in control of myself, the next, I was powerless. I laughed from the iPad screen faced away from him, but I was unsettled, and then immediately embarrassed, for the first time, because why should it matter to me if the stick Im currently streaming from is picked up off the floor a continent away?

Get over it, I told myself. But then it happened again. And again.

Diary Entry, Day 3 My coworker picks me up as Im wheeling to the meeting because Im slow. I don’t want to be slow! I want to walk on my own! Im an adult! She lifts me up before I have a chance to object. In the air I meekly say, Just ask me first if youre going to lift me, which no one responds to because I assume they think that it’s a joke.

This became my secret shame. People wanted to help me, but every single time they did it, I felt infantilized. I needed to tell my coworkers not to pick me up—a conversation I dreaded. I did this by sending them a draft of my daily robot diary, in which they read about how I was feeling. (Classic passive aggressive move, you say? No doubt, but the few times I’d said the words aloud, they hadn’t clicked for people, so I thought the log was the best way.) It worked. Now no one touches my robot without permission. Case in point:

Diary Entry: Day 5 I cant get out of the all-glass conference room alone. I turn my screen to Joe and he says, Should I carry you?

Thats probably wise.

Ill just drop you off where its straight and then you can make your way from there. Joe is basically my robots father, and my robot is a toddler. When he picks me up Im jostled. He gently places me down at the straight hallway and I want very badly to navigate quickly back to my dock to prove Im self-sufficient, but the screen freezes twice and the motor is slow and it takes me forever.

Later, on the phone, another editor off-handedly said, You know, when Joe lifted you up and carried you—now I hope this doesnt make you uncomfortable—but from our end, with your face on the screen, it looked really inappropriate. Like he was cradling you in his arms. Because when we see the face, our brains cant help but project the rest of you, and so it was like you were actually being carried.

Looking at the future. #embot #newnewwiredoffice

A photo posted by @joemfbrown on May 7, 2015 at 11:00am PDT

So, even though I had given Joe permission to lift EmBot up, the fact that my face was still on the screen made other people uncomfortable. Fine. Another rule: If I ask for help and you pick me up, I’ll disconnect so the screen is dark. Voila. Everything was going to be fine.

EmBot Grows Up

After I put a stop to the inappropriate robot-touching, things quickly went from good to great. I’d call this the euphoria stage. I mastered the arrow keys (rather than holding them down and over correcting, just hit them quickly one at a time and roll like a BOSS). I figured out how to makethe robot stand taller so I wasnt constantly having conversations with peoples crotches. I booted up in the middle of spontaneous brainstorm sessions and shared ideas.

Diary Entry: Day 6

Major breakthrough! I have my first West-Wing-style walk and talk as Embot. I knew this day would come. After the morning meeting, Patrick walks with me down the hallway discussing a longread Im editing. Hes so cool about the robot thing that I briefly forget completely that its not normal to be a disembodied metal moving machine with an iPad for a face. He only says one thing that would be weird if I was walking down the hall as a fully-fleshed human, Youre about to run into wall, come this way.

At this point, I was also the star of cocktail parties in Boston. Everyone wanted to know how it was going with the robot. Are people still laughing at you? No. Isnt it weird that your robot is naked? No. Whats the worst thing thats happened with the robot so far? When I hit a dead-zone and EmBot died behind a strangers desk, with my face frozen on the screen, and I found out later that they thought I was lurking and spying on them. I mean, thats also one of the funnier things thats ever happened, but pretty terrible for that poor creeped-out human.

And just like that, I was a part of work in a way Id struggled to be since I first came on at WIRED. As a typical oldest child, tyrant and benefactor to two younger brothers, I pride myself on making sure everyone feels like were all in this together—whether “this” is divorce or publishing a magazine. Its hard to be that kind of leader when youre isolated from your team completely. When youre a voice coming out of speaker. EmBot changed that completely. Suddenly, there I was, materialized. My reporters and I started meeting face to face to discuss deadlines. Everything was so jovial and natural.

Christie Hemm Klok/WIRED

The other incredibly wonderful thing at this stage was that though Embot put me physically in the office, because she was just my head and not my body no one at work was seeing how pregnant I was looking. Now, of course, they know I am pregnant, but since I am not there, the visual reminder of my changed condition was not in their faces. I have worked at places before where women start getting treated differently when their bellies show. The kid gloves come on. I had been dreading how this could play out, but the way EmBot works I remained present and yet unchanged. No one remarked on my belly. It was not a factor in my work.

I became obsessed with EmBot. I couldt stop thinking about her when I turned her off at night. How sad that this thing that has made my life so much better was just dead when Im done working.

Diary Entry: Day 8

Its Friday. It occurs to me that EmBot doesnt get to enjoy the weekend. If only she had arms, she could push the button, summon the elevator, and be free. But shes a prisoner at work. Whereas my physical body is having adventures, growing a human life inside it and moving into a new apartment AND dog-sitting a Bernese Mountain dog.

Mostly my weekend will be about trying not poison my unborn child with paint fumes. My physical body is such a liability. Embot, though she is shackled to work and unable to exist without me to inhabit her, in some ways has the much simpler side of existence.

What if I have to share the Embot with someone? I tell myself that would be fine, but I know already that I would be feel upset. Embot is a part of me. Anyone else would be an intruder.

You can see from the daily diary entry that it was right about now that my connection with EmBot got a little weird. I couldnt let go of this notion that Embot was me and yet she lacked all freedom to exist outside the office. I started to feel that she was a caged animal. Which made me feel like a caged animal.

EmBot needed her freedom.

Get her a Mi-Fi, my friends suggested. Suddenly I imagined this vast conspiracy—finagling a coworker in SF to get me a company MiFi and surreptitiously hiding it under her screen. But then what? EmBot would rush out into the big bad streets of SOMA and try to find other robots to play with, meanwhile my poor comrade would be grilled by the Conde Nast HR department wanting to know “WHAT HAPPENED TO THE ROBOT? Who pushed the button to call the elevator, huh? The robot has no hands!”

That was clearly a terrible idea … and yet. I fantasized. I drove her past the elevator banks a few times to see if the Wi-Fi was strong enough for her to sneak out the door. I dont know what my plan was. EmBot was becoming a teenager. A teenager pushing her boundaries, pushing her luck.

First Pangs of Mortality

A photo posted by Patrick Witty (@patrickwitty) on May 7, 2015 at 12:09pm PDT

Within a few days, I started to realize perhaps EmBot wasn’t invincible after all. For one thing, I couldnt hear meetings very well. Sometimes I had to put my ear directly to the computer speaker to hear the people at the far end of the conference table, which meant that in the room EmBots face was just the folds of my (hopefully not-waxy) ear canal.

Double offers a $99 audio kit, which maybe would help this, but since we hadn’t yet decided if the robot was a wise investment, it was too early to shell out for add-ons.

Worse, though all EmBot needs to live is power and and Wi-Fi, signal strength was proving to be a big problem. Double Robotics acknowledges this is the leadingissue among corporate customers, because most businesses don’t prioritize a strong signal in hallways. This doesn’t matter for humans, but these dead zones can make navigating an office impossible for robots.

So even as I was obsessing about freeing EmBot from the cage of WIREDs office, she seemed less and less reliable. Even when the Wi-Fi was strong, the video would freeze for no reason. I missed crucial information in meetings, only to later learn that everyone thought I was listening because EmBot had frozen with my face on the screen, trapped in a ridiculous expression of curiosity.

And then, this happened:

Diary Entry: Day 12 I am feeling so alone. Embot is in a coma. She didnt charge overnight. “Haha,” I played it cool over IM to Davey, who sits next to Embot and checked on her vital signs for me. She shoved Embot into her dock. I assume shes charging now, but I cant tell.

Diary Entry: Day 13

She remains cut off of me. Its like Embot is in the kind of coma where she cant move or speak or alert the doctors that she is alive but inside her head, she is screaming, LET ME OUT! IM HERE! DONT TURN ME OFF!

Ive called her doctors, or parents, or gods, DoubleRobotics, but theres no answer. Theyll get back to me in one business day.

If she ever wakes up again, I promise to give her a better life. To give her some freedom.

Diary Entry, Day 14

Embot just had a seizure. I was so happy when she woke up that I decided this was my big chance to sneak her out and onto the elevator. I eased her out of the dock and turned to the right, but immediately something was wrong: her head was shaking. Just a little a bit at first but then side to side violently, thrashing around, my field of vision swinging wildly, too fast to make out peoples faces. I tried turning her and found that she was still responding to me somewhat but she could not be still. She was like diabetic Julia Roberts in Steel Magnolias, shaking out her beautiful wedding hair in Truveys salon.

I heard Chuck say, Oh no, youve woken EmBot like she was some kind of monster.

What is happening? Davey cried from her desk.

EmBot is having a seizure! I screamed into the computer. I dont know what to do!

As Embots camera panned quickly in front of Davey I saw her get up.

Can you put her in her dock? I asked, breathless.

She wont stop moving. She just keeps shaking.

I turned her off on my end, but Davey reported that she was still seizing on her own, face blank. She was like the body of a chicken, walking bloody around the yard after the chef cuts its head off. I implored Davey to find a button to turn her off. She did. She docked her. Shes docked now.

My heart wont stop beating. Maybe EmBot is corrupted and corroded and my time with her is over. Maybe EmBot is a monster. I feel like I just a had a seizure.

@EmilyDreyfuss FYI, Embots going crazy. Wandered out of its dock, now manically rolling back and forth.

Alex Davies (@adavies47) May 19, 2015

Were working on a fix. A coworker in San Francisco is logging into her, which normally would upset me, but Im so nervous I don’t care that another being enters her.

Im on the phone with Double Robotics, relaying what he finds.

He reports: On the screen it was shimmying back and forth, and I looked across the room and it looked like a wandering confused and dizzy child aimless and afraid. and alone. I left my screen and went over to see if I could help. I picked it up and smelled the wheels to see if it was on fire or anything then hurried back to my screen to put it in PARK. I may cover it in a sheet.

The Reckoning

Teaching my robot the hard lesson that she is not free http://pic.twitter.com/wen8MONbBm

— emily dreyfuss (@EmilyDreyfuss) May 21, 2015

After EmBot terrorized the office, nothing was the same. I relinquished my delusions of granduer. Double Robotics sent a new unit, and immediately upon activating it I knew it was not really EmBot. It rolls differently. Its speakers are quieter. It doesn’t connect to the Wi-Fi as well. It teeters differently on the carpet-edge. It’s not me. It’s just a robot. A robot I can’t trust.

I still use it, of course. Sure, It’s incredibly glitchy. Most weeks I have to write in our group chatroom, “SOS: EmBot is stranded somewhere between the dock and the IT department. Can someone rescue it?” It went through a phase where I couldn’t hear anything being said in meetings. Then for four days it was paralyzed, so needed to be picked up and carried everywhere. Now it does this thing where it clicks and hisses when the Wi-Fi connection struggles, setting an off-tempo jazz rhythm to every meeting.

It’s fine. I still prefer it to the speakerphone. It brings everyone in the office joy, even when it struggles. I get laughed at a lot from the iPad camera, but I like it. In a lot of ways, EmBot is a joke we are all in on together. Could we just set up an iPad in the conference room with FaceTime or Skype and achieve essentially the same thing? Sure. But where would be the fun in that, people? Where would be the soul-searching? Human life is short, and being a part-time, part-useful robot makes it ever so slightly more interesting.

Diary: Who Knows What Day, I’ve Lost Count

Joe carried EmBot to the head of the conference table for the edit meeting, because her Bluetooth connection isn’t working properly so I can’t control it. Sam asked, somewhere off-screen where I couldn’t see her, “Em, did you get new glasses?”

“No,” I spoke to the rest of the room, “my jerk cat knocked my glasses off the bedside table and I’m far too pregnant to crouch down low enough to get them, so I dug these out of a closet.”

“And that story,” someone from behind the robot said, “is the best argument in favor of having a robot. We would not have gotten to hear that if you were on the speakerphone.”

So, yes, as it turned out, most of the fears I had about becoming a part-time robot came true—it’s an unruly distraction that often makes me look ridiculous, that falls over and can’t be counted on—and yet my coworkers didn’t lose all respect for me. No, what happened was much more subtle and unexpected than that: EmBot lost her humanity. But I gained mine back.

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from My Life as a Robot