#life is hard when you are a ben fan. you must pick apart every line of dialogue

[gaiaxygang]

thinking about when chopper said ben cant stay close to people for long (shakes the writing team) what does it mean!!!!! WHAT DOES IT MEAN !!!!!!!!!!

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 67

Warning, PLEASE CHECK TAGS IF YOU SEE SOMETHING YOU DON’T WANT TO READ THEN DON’T READ. Tag lists are closed

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Will tag as I go along, Will update tags, Slow Burn, Influenced by Star Trek and other Sci-Fi themes, References to We Happy Few, Tons of References and quotes to George Orwells 1984 see if you can find them all, The First Order is the new Big Brother,  but who is really surprised, Blatant Nazi Symbolism, Interrogation Themes, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Really just drawn out Slow Burn, Don’t repost without permission, Torture themes, Suggestive Themes, Execution themes, Disturbing Themes, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Controlling Kylo Ren, Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Possessive Kylo Ren, A character shamelessly based on Zelda

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 67: Planning a Wedding

This was the first time in a while that you had woken up completely alone. You were thankful that the sleeping pill put you to sleep because if it didn’t you were pretty sure that falling asleep would have been hard since Kylo wasn’t wrapped around you. The bed felt empty, but you weren’t alone for long. Adlez and Olivia-Rose were there a few minutes after you became conscious.  

You went about your usual morning routine of getting dressed, having breakfast, learning your schedule, and so on. Somehow it all felt rather monotonous. This repeated for the first few days until you were informed that the dressmaker would be arriving to take your measurements and to design your dress.

You were expecting to meet a man but were surprised to see a rather older looking woman greeting you, “Good morning Lady Ren, I am here to design your ceremony gown.” Her voice was that characteristically sweet old lady voice that always comforted you.  

“It is nice to meet you, I trust my lady-in-waiting sent you some of the designs we need to beat. This is a rather important dress and I would like to get it right.” No, you had to get right, and she knew that.

“Of course, the dresses she sent over were some of the best ones worn by Queen Padme Amidala . Are they something you would like to emulate or are they just something to compare to?” You watched as her kind gray eyes watched your face, they were rather comforting.

“Something to compare to, I also believe she sent over some dresses from my planet as well, some dresses that royalty have worn .” You had seen some of the royal wedding dresses splashed across tabloids at the supermarkets. You knew people always loved them, and you had to admit that they were rather pretty.

“Yes, the main theme from those dresses that I could see were white lace gowns that were modest and featured long trains. Is this something you would like to start with?” She seemed to read you very well, in many ways she seemed like another person you could trust.

“Yes, I want a white dress as it is traditional where I come from. But I would like to include something from Naboo if possible.” You had seen the dresses Adlez had sent over, none of them were really your taste, but you knew Kylo’s grandmother was famous for her fashion sense. And he had a deep devotion to his grandfather, so you wanted to honor his wife.

“We could include some specialty embroidery or lace, Naboo is famous for it unless you would like to have a stuffed bodice?” You did not want the horrid puffy sleeves of her dresses, nor did you want the rather elaborate hairstyles she favored.

“No embroidery or lace will be fine. I am not a fan of large puffy sleeves. I sort of want something sleek and timeless. Something that will be spoken about for millennia.” You hoped the galactic fashion trends were similar to Earth’s in that some things were considered timeless.

“May I ask where the ceremony is being held?” She started to take out her sketchbook and jot down some notes.

“The castle on Mustafar,” you stood by your agreement to have it there, even if a small part of you wished you could have it back on Earth.

“Ah, so I must make you stand out from the architecture. It features a lot of harsh lines and symmetry. And you must stand apart but yet together with the Supreme Leader. I trust the Supreme Leader will have something special made by one of the First Order tailors.”

She started sketching design after design, eventually; you settled on one. Something that would make you look feminine and delicate against the architecture, but yet regal and powerful. It would feature lace from Naboo, and a long train and veil combo that would bring in the royalty vibes you were hoping for. She took the final design and informed you she would be back in a few days with the dress.

All the excitement of designing a wedding dress dissipated after a bit. You were then left to your regular routine of learning, going to meetings, and meeting with your staff.

Kylo had been gone five days before you heard from him. He had yet to make any real headway in finding the scavenger.

“I’ve missed you,” you said as you saw his face appear on the holocall.  

“I’ve missed you too, Kitten.” Gods how you missed his voice. You hoped all of this would end soon because you couldn’t take it for much longer.  

“Are you lonely without me?” If he asked you that question back you would beg him to come home. But he didn’t.

“Terribly, the bed is cold, I miss my morning kisses. My nightly showers are even worse, as there is no beautiful woman to climb into bed with afterward.” He gave you a wink that had you blushing all over. You were glad the holocall gave you a blue cast as you were sure he would tease you about it. “As much as my knights are my brothers, they are no replacement for you. I also don’t think Ushar and Cardo would appreciate playing with me like you do, Kitten.” Now you were fully beat red. “Although Cardo does seem lonely himself. Maybe you could talk to that lady-in-waiting of yours to message him, to cheer him up?”

Of course, Adlez was up to shenanigans when you weren’t with her. “I know nothing of their relationship. If he is feeling lonely, then he can message her himself. “You truly didn’t know anything, and you kinda preferred it that way.

You heard a chuckle come from his deep resonating chest, only muffled by the audio of the holocall, “You are lucky you don’t hear their talks about her then. I am afraid your lady-in-waiting might tarnish my knights.”

“Hey now, she is the one you picked for me. I think she’s just whipping them into shape.” He did pick her out for you, a decision he should probably regret.  

“Literally,” he said with a smirk. You could see the playful water swirl in his cauldron eyes. Eyes that you really wanted to drown in.

“I did not need to know that.” Now the image of Adlez with a riding crop popped into your head, an image that would scar you presumably for life.  

“Well, Kitten, it might be something we can experiment with too once I get back.” And for the first time since you’ve met him, he actually winked at you. You had no idea where this truly flirty side was coming from, but you hoped it didn’t leave.

Your face was now completely on fire. In an attempt to change the subject, “How are you advancing on your mission?”

His face turned into a scowl. “She has been difficult to find, It hasn’t been easy. Once Rey is dead, my mother will hand herself over quietly. But for now, I have to go, we will be dropping out of hyperspace in a few minutes and we will be searching the planets in this system.”

“Where are you off to again?” You haven’t heard directly from him in the last few days, but you have been receiving updates. But you had still yet to learn about the galaxy and its many planets.

“Pasaana, we have a lead that she may be headed there. I will call you when I can.” You could hear some of the knights moving around in the back of the call. You hoped he would just finish what he needed to do soon so he could come back to you.

“Return to me in one piece, please.” If he got hurt or killed, you wouldn’t know how to handle yourself.

“I will.” You watched as his image faded from in front of you. The call ended. And you were alone once more. Alone to face the next few days by yourself.

In the rush of being able to talk to him again, to see him. You had completely forgotten about the need to chew him out for not actually proposing to you. To just leave you in the hands of the rest of the First Order to plan a wedding. But you missed him, you were lonely.

The last few days you had just been eating dinner by yourself. You knew Adlez was eating with the knights and that Olivia-Rose and Mitaka were probably together. All in all, you felt rather more alone. Everyone around you seemed to have a life outside your chambers. Not that you didn’t, but you hadn’t the true freedom of being able to walk the halls or to meet new people to just be friends with.

You had been keeping tabs on your friends back home on Earth. Hayden and Carter both seemed to be doing fine. Hayden had applied for the ‘trooper corps that would be stationed on Earth and Carter seemed to be excelling at work. You knew that calling them wouldn’t be the same as before all this happened. All of you had changed. You dreaded knowing what they were like after the education had fully set in. You were different to but in ways you could not describe. For better or worse you were a different woman than when you first met Kylo. You were becoming more like him every day, and it should bother you, but right now it comforted you. He was gone but was still with you at the same time.

You also did not want to call your parents or siblings. Your parents had been disrespectful to you before you left. You wondered if they would attend the ceremony, your wedding. Or if they would just watch the broadcast like every other First Order citizen. Hux would know, but you didn’t really care either way. Kylo was your family now, and maybe one day you would make one with him. In many ways, Olivia-Rose, Adlez, Mitaka, Hux, Phasma, the Knights of Ren, and your staff were your family. But Kylo was home, and no one could take that away from you. Not Rey, not his mother, no one.

You got yourself ready for bed, as you had been for the last few nights. The only person who saw you was the doctor as he administered your sleeping pill. You took less time to get ready as really; you had no one to get ready for. There was no Kylo to warm the bed or to wake you up. It was just you.

Once the doctor left after you received your dose you rolled over to Kylo’s side of the bed. His pillow still smelled like him and it helped ease the loneliness as the blackness of sleep took over. No dreams to disturb you.

The next few days were as monotonous as ever. The same routine day in and day out, until the general informed you that the ship had arrived at Mustafar two days ago but that they were having trouble preparing the castle.

“So this isn’t a First Order controlled planet?” You assumed it was when it was suggested in the first place.

“It technically isn’t but we haven’t had a problem here in the past, but I suppose that might have to do with the Supreme Leader’s presence at the time,” responded Hux. You were joined by all your staff as you were planning more details for the ceremony.

“So they will continue to be hostile, and the place where my wedding is supposed to happen will be in ruin?” Just what you needed. Your match was out trying to kill someone to protect you, but you were sent off to a battlefield where you were supposed to get married and be crowned Empress.

“Well, the castle isn’t necessarily in the best of conditions in the first place,” said Captain Mitaka.  

“Then why was it recommended?” You had yet to receive any information on your wedding venue, really. You had no idea what it looked like, not that you could really change it now.

“Because it was Lord Vader’s personal residence and his influence on the Supreme Leader’s life has been significant. He holds his grandfather and his legacy in high regard,” responded Hux. You knew the answer but were just frustrated at the current situation. Nothing felt like it was going to plan.  

“So who is attacking the ground troops?” No one had told you who, just that they were being attacked.

“Alazmec of Winsit, Sith cultists. They believe Lord Vader to be a deity,” said Hux.  

A lightbulb clicked in your brain. “Do they know that the Supreme Leader is a direct descendant of Darth Vader? And that he would like to have a wedding at his grandfather’s castle?”

“No, they do not,” said Mitaka.

Why is it that you occasionally felt like the smartest person in the room? “Can we reason with them, inform them of this?”

“We have tried, the troops we have sent have been defeated.” Hux was starting to look easily frustrated. You had no idea how many people they had sent down or how many of the cultists there were, but surely this couldn’t keep on going when you had a wedding to plan.

You had made a decision. “I shall go reason with them.”

“I don’t think that is a good idea. I don’t believe the Supreme Leader would approve of you putting yourself in harm’s way,” said Hux.

“Is the Supreme Leader here?” You have had enough.

“No,” said Mitaka. And this is why he was one of your favorites.  

“Exactly and did he give explicit orders to keep me from going to the planet’s surface?” You were determined to get this whole thing over with.

“No, m’lady,” said Hux. You could tell that he knew he was going to regret saying that.  

“Then I am going down to the planet to reason with them. I will have the knights and Captain Phasma with me. The only way I could be safer is if the Supreme Leader was here himself, but then again if he was we wouldn’t have this problem.” You were starting to understand how a Bridezilla was formed but was it really that unreasonable to get your ceremony space in order? You had promised that you would have your wedding on Mustafar and come hell or high water, you were going to have it there. After all, you were going to be the Empress of the entire galaxy one day, so you should have a wedding to remember.

[myarmsaretoolong]

@whumptober2020​​ Prompt #16: “A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” - Shoot the Hostage

Word Count: 1754

Warnings: Gun Violence | Major Character Death

Synopsis: After receiving a bloodstained note, Peter throws himself into searching for the hostages, only he didn’t expect one to Ben’s murderer

Read Under the Cut | Read on AO3

Peter ran through the desolate hallways of an old, abandoned police precinct. One that, ironically, closed down thanks to Spider-Man's effect on crime in the city. He searched every inch of every floor, not knowing what he was looking for, only that this was the location written on that bloodstained note addressed to him.

Setting eyes on that note for the first time sent a chilling shiver down Peter's spine. One he surely would never feel the likes of again. It was simply taped to a lamppost along Peter's usual patrol route, the words 'Come find me, Spider-Man' written in cursive above the address. Splats of crimson marred the perfectness of the uncrinkled paper.

The precinct was a five-storey building where every surface held a think layer of dust. The ground floor housed the Homicides bullpen, looking back, that should have been the first clue. All the files had been transferred to other precincts, of course, but barren desks with long-forgotten computers still stood sentry over the uninhabited floor. 

The first floor once belonged to the Cyber Crimes Unit, again stripped bare of everything but the basic furniture. The second floor housed a sign on the door reading Drug Enforcement Administration, the inside as dismal as the rest. Dark - the lightbulbs long since burned out - not a single sign of life bar the scuttle of rats feet as Peter raced across the floor, throwing open every door, checking under every desk. Wondering what he'd come face to face with.

What if it was already too late? If whoever the maniac who left the note had grown tired of the game and left, leaving Peter on a wild goose chase, or killed an innocent civilian out of boredom. Having another lost soul on his conscious would be enough to break Peter, who already carried the weight of the world on his young shoulders.

The third floor brought up sickening memories; he'd been too fixated on the mission to even notice. Even in it's forgotten state - moth-eaten coats, grime coated desks, and dusky smell - Peter recognised every inch of the room. The same room he'd once sat in, numb to the world around him as he waited for May and Ben to come and collect him. Because no one else was going too. The same room he'd sat in only a few years ago, this time with blood on his hands and the first innocent soul on his chest. Only May would collect him, this time. Her face wistful and yearning for a love she'd never feel again, tearstains on her cheeks.

Peter pushed past the memories. Past the surge of grief building in his chest. Past the pain. And kept searching. 

The fourth - and final - floor had even longer been abandoned, deserted the same day SHIELD fell. Call it coincidence if you want, Peter didn't believe in such things. Not anymore. Not after everything he'd seen. Walking through the door felt surreal, like stepping into an entirely different world devoid of colours and warmth and comfort. Just a harsh, cold, emptiness that sucked the breath from Peter's chest.

Every piece of furniture -chairs, desks, computers - had been stripped away to leave behind a vast swathe of nothingness. Sun-faded patches on the wall plaster stood in stark contrast to those which had been covered by paintings and posters. A ceiling fan swung painfully slowly in the middle of the room, creaking as its defective blades danced through the air to a tune only they could hear. Peter's eyes fell to the floor next, where a thick layer of dirt, dust, and grime covered from wall to wall. Cutting through it... Footprints.

Peter's heart hammered as he followed them, tracking his own through the mess as he did so. There was more than one pair, that was for sure, maybe three or four, it was hard to tell from the muddle of prints. Only one set seemed to be wearing any shoes.

They led to a door. Blue paint flaked off of it, and a large, square window stood at head height, though it was too dark inside to see through. Steeling his nerve, lips pressed into a thin line and determination in his eyes, Peter opened the door and stepped through. 

He threw his arms up, ready to fight the madman within... But his Spidey-Sense gave nothing more than the general feeling of unease he'd got first stepping into the building. A dim light flicked on overhead, just bright enough to light the room. Peter was in one of those police lineup rooms with a white wall painted solely with height lines. In front of it, four people stood in identical brown, baggy khakis and plain black T-shirts, a cloth sack clumsily thrown over their heads and hands cuffed behind their backs.

"Hello, Spider-Man."

The voice came over an intercom. Peter whirled around to face a mirror, presumably one-way glass.

"I'm glad you made it. Though, I must say I've been waiting a while. I don't like waiting."

"What do you want?" Peter spat at the mirror, hoping he was looking at least vaguely close to the person behind it.

"To play a little game." They paused just long enough for Peter to open his mouth before continuing. "Take a look to your left."

Peter turned, looking at the door once again. Just beside it, on a small, square table, sat a gun. The sight of it caused Peter to step back. "No," he said, turning to face the mirror once again.

"Yes," they replied, their voice eerily lacking in emotion. "The rules are simple. You're going to kill one of these people."

"Why would I do that?" Peter asked, his voice a little too loud to play off as if he were calm. Who was he kidding, calm so far out of the window he didn't know what it meant anymore. His heart hammered so loud it was a miracle the person behind the mirror couldn't hear, every muscle like a tightly coiling spring, ready to act a seconds notice.

"Have you ever heard of a dead man's switch, Spider-Man? Handy little contraptions. I've got one in my hand right now, if I let go of this button... you can say goodbye to your nice Aunt May. I've packed enough explosives in the basement of your apartment to take out the whole block."

Peter began pacing the room, raking a hand through his hair as he decidedly kept his gaze away from the gun. Vaguely, he could hear one of the hostages sniffling under the cloth bag. He rounded back on the mirror, eyes burning with rage. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Well," they left a short pause before continuing, "I could let go so you can see for yourself..."

"No!" Peter said quickly, his voice an octave too high. "No, don't do that!"

"Then I think you already have your answer."

Slowly, Peter walked to the table with the gun and reached out a hand. He picked it up, the black metal cold against his trembling hands. His eyes flicked over to the hostages, standing silently in a line, waiting for Peter to make his choice. He threw the gun down and stumbled away. "I can't," he rasped, voice gravelly. "I- I can't do this."

"Time's ticking, Spider-Man. I can tell you about them if you want. Make the choice easier." Peter shook his head fiercely, knowing who they are would only make the decision harder. But the person behind the glass ignored him. "One of them is a charity worker, spends every moment of his time helping others. One's a criminal, a murderer to be specific. Another has a wife and kid back home, the last has no one. A loner who lives a peaceful life."

"Shut up!" Peter yelled, pressing his hands over his ears. "Just stop it."

Despite his best efforts, the crackle of the intercom still found its way to Peter's ears. "Here's the real kicker. The criminal, the man he murdered went by the name of Ben Parker."

Peter shot dead upright, hands falling limply to his sides as vengence clawed its way up his spine. He'd failed to save Ben once before, but now he had a chance to make that right. To save other lives in his name. Without realising he'd moved, the gun now once again rested in Peter's hands. This time, he seized it with fearsome strength, not a tremble in sight.

Pure rage burned in his eyes as his finger curled around the trigger, examining each of the hostages. He'd been there the night Ben died, saw the murderer escaping, surely he could pick them out of this lineup.

"Tick tock, Spider-Man. Time to make the decision."

Peter levelled the gun at the second hostage from the left. In years to come, Peter would look back on this night and wonder why him, what made him choose this person out of the lineup. He squeezed shut his eyes, the sudden realisation of just how wrong this whole thing was washing over him. 

But it was too late, he'd already pulled the trigger.

The sound echoed throughout the small room. A pit opened up inside Peter's stomach and he fell to his knees, doubling over. All he felt was regret. The remaining hostages screamed, or cried, or both, Peter couldn't be sure through the numbness. The trembling returned tenfold.

"Take a look, Spider-Man," the person behind the glass sounded happy, no... Elated. "See if you made the right choice."

Peter shuffled across the floor towards the growing pool of blood under the chest of the fallen hostage. Shakily, he reached out and tugged back the cloth hood. A sob escaped his throat when he saw the person underneath. Hurriedly, he pulled them into his lap, blood staining his suit, and tried to stem the steady flow leaking from his chest.

"No," he whispered, barely able to make a sound. "No, Mister Stark! Please!"

Tony's eyes stared lifelessly up at the ceiling, his face contorted in pain.

"I'm s-sorry," Peter stuttered, "I'm so sorry, Mister Stark. Please, c-come back. Don't leave me!" He tried his best to wake Tony, but he never would wake again.

In years to come, Peter would look back on this night and wonder why him. And he knew why. It was the familiarity. The vague sense that he knew the man under the hood, and picked him assuming it to be Ben’s killer.

Who was the killer now?

[glamrockmonarch]

Attachments Series

Series Masterlist | Chapter Two

Pairings: OFC!Princess Rose x Joe Mazzello; OFC!Princess Rose x Gwilym Lee; OFC!Laura x Ben Hardy; OFC!Laura x ???

Summary: Princess Rose lives a comfortable life along her parents. In a large family of royals, being the second child in the line of succession is not easy. On her 18th birthday it becomes a matter of great importance that she stops her heartbreaker ways and settles for a fine gentleman worthy of a kingdom. As the castle fills with the sounds of laughter and joy, Lady Laura must swallow her pride and do as she is told by her Queen…even if the heart tells her to act otherwise.

A/N: Just to clarify, I am not going to be including Felix and Rory into this because…well, I don’t know! For this, Rose will be the second child after Rufus and before Tigerlily - who we shall be referring to as Lily/Lilian for the purpose of style, sorry and thank you. Lola will be in the story as well, and I will much much MUCH appreciate feedback, thoughts and maybe theories? or guesses? on what you think the story is going to be like. I do warn you, there will be mentions of same sex relationships, adult content *wink* *wink* and really bad, inaccurate history. Because I try but not that hard. Also, I am sorry you do not get much Laura right away, but her part in the story is going to be a bit wild - my bi people will be pleased (I hope!).

(I promise the future A/N’s won’t be this long!)

Chapter One. Rose

                    He makes the bed soft, yet it’s hard to sleep on

“What does that mean?” Her face lost all colour. 

The wind entered through the windows of the large hall as she stood before her father. The King sighed. He did not like doing this to his daughter, but word around the kingdom was that she enjoyed the privileges of the royal home with too many liberties. Partying and drinking, constantly seen with male friends on social gatherings. 

The princess was eighteen now. Old enough, perhaps too old, to be married regardless of how much her father wished for her to remain a child under his and the Queen’s care. She was a handful, but she was theirs. And soon, for the sake of the crown, she would be someone else’s. 

The king’s blue eyes looked up from the floor and he stretched his back as he turned his gaze onto his daughter, Princess Ruthie Rose, his second-born. She looked back up at him with her impossible long blonde curls. Her sparkling blue eyes like his, which widened round as they were. 

“It means,” King Roger began, “you must meet these men. All perfectly eligible husbands… I’m giving you a month to choose one to marry.”

“And,” she tried to stand up tall in front of him, not a good time to test her father’s temper, “…and if I don’t want to be wedded?” 

She swung her nose up in the autumn’s wind. 

“I don’t care for what you want.” 

The statement flew in the air like a slap to her face, a wake up to a spoiled child with too much gold in her pocket and too little sympathy. 

He stared at his daughter with stern eyes, the blue in the irises turned cold as ice for the first time in her presence. 

“You’ve messed about, drunk your way here. I do not care if you want a husband, I don’t care if you want to be a lady or a whore! You will be married to a man of status! The name of this family will not be dragged along with you.” 

“Papa, I-” She took a step forward, bringing her hands together over her chest on her way to make another one of her skillful apologies. 

“No, Rosamund. Not this time.” The king stepped forward too, grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands apart he pointed a heavy finger her way. “I will personally choose for you.” 

“They will take me away…” She reasoned, “I refuse your kind offer, papa I cannot! I do not want to go!” 

“This is not an offer.” King Roger said, “Meet them. Make a choice. Or I will.”

Forcing her jaw to clench, the princess stopped her bottom lip from quivering. She held her handkerchief in a clenched fist and watched the man in front of her.  

“Where are they from?” She asked through gritted teeth. 

King Roger took a deep breath and walked towards the window, he looked past the gardens and into the paths leading to the palace. A cart was arriving. The first one. 

“Your brother insisted on giving Joseph a chance,” she rolled her eyes and smiled at her father once his eyes turned to her. 

“Of course! Joseph is one of our closest friends!” She spoke in bittersweet truth, knowing that choosing him would mean she would have to move to Monaco with him. 

“Benjamin of Russia is coming too,” the King frowned down at his large rings, “as is coming Gwilym, Prince of Hanover.”

She nodded her head and shrugged. “Only one of them lives in London, papa.” She felt the lack of space in her throat and a humidity that blocked her nose. 

“You will be smart to choose the Prince of Hanover, although I fear he is a man of science.”

“Cannot be worse than a Russian winter,” she guessed out loud before giving her father a forced smile and a bow. “Papa.”

King Roger watched as his daughter walked out of the studio. He sighed. Sitting back on his large chair he glanced at the gardens outside. So far it had been an enormous task finding the best people to marry his children, starting with Rufus…The Prince of Wales could not go along with the expected, no. He chose instead to find himself a wife at the court. Of course. Lilian was not yet getting married. 

But the trouble was already to be expected. 

~~~~

Fuming. The princess was fuming. Her lady helped her fix her hair before going to greet Joseph. She could not mind it any less, he was a good friend of hers and her siblings because of his constant trips to England, although his place of residence was Monaco instead. She would have picked him on the spot, was it not for that. Rose could not bring herself to think of a life away from her family home. From her sisters and her brother. From her father and mother. Away from the court she grew up in. 

It seemed to be all a horrible play. Why would they let her love it there so much if they knew she would be destined to leave one day. 

Rose put a bright blue ribbon in her hair and walked out to meet the ever so jolly Prince of Monaco. 

With a smile for his friend she swallowed the sadness of knowing the choice was made for her, and whatever efforts he made would be met with a negative response. Even if her heart was only fixated on Joseph as a friend…it still broke to the thought of the life to come when the day came and she was married to a man she did not yet know. 

“Splendid as always, Rose!” Joseph said humorously, although he knew the young Princess loved a compliment. 

“Oh,” she looked up and shrugged with a light move of her shoulder, “but you look so handsome too! One might think you are trying to court someone…?” 

Rose wiped the fan open and fanned herself for a second as Joseph smiled.

If he must be honest, Rose was a pretty girl. Although it did not matter that she was much younger than himself, he thought of her as a little sister, most probably due to his closeness to Rufus. If the King found him suitable for his daughter, he had been told, they would be wedded in a matter of days. It was of incredible importance to the crown back home that Joseph took a wife and produced an heir, but whether of not that would be accomplished with Rose, was still not clear.

“Please, do come have tea with me!” The Princess motioned towards the large hall in the palace, escorted by one of her ladies she began walking. 

Joseph stepped next to her and offered his arm, chivalry much alive. He talked to his friend about his time back at home, the fun bits. Why bore the young with politics? 

The tea room, so familiar, fell quiet too soon. While Rose fought to find a natural topic of conversation she could not stop thinking of what Joseph was told before coming to the palace that afternoon. His long lashes produced shadows under his brown eyes and his boyish grin reminded her a second later that she should not be scared of asking him questions. 

Taking glances up at him, with her bright blue eyes filling with doubt, the young Princess pressed her lips together in a tight line. 

Joseph’s brow furrowed watching every move of his dear friend. The almost imperceptible shaking of her hands holding the beautiful china while pouring the tea for the two of them. 

“What is the matter?” He wondered with a side smile, taking her apparent nervousness as a laughable subject of conversation. 

“I-,” she stuttered, something she loathed doing. Sitting back in the soft cushions of the sofa she looked up at Joseph with her spine straight as could be and her neck extending fully. “I don’t know what you were told, Joe, but I am unsure I can go through with it.” 

Joseph, Joe to his closest friends, put on a gentle smile for her and leant forward, reaching out for her hands that rested with stiff poses on top of her childish pastel gown. 

“There is nothing to fear, Rosey,” Joseph used his nickname for her too and  squeezed her cold hands; “whatever your father chooses for you will be best.” 

And while that made it somewhat clear what his father, the King had said to her friend, it was also followed by the doors behind them. A group of women and young girls walked in surrounding the Queen. Unknown to Rose, Joseph’s eyes fell upon the milky features of one of the Queen’s ladies. Brown eyes stared back at him, but the smile on her face did not falter, denying him any clues as to what she was thinking of him at the moment in which he was holding another girl’s hands. 

“Ma’am,” Joseph reacted to the Queen’s presence then.

With his hands taken off of hers, Rose looked down at her shaking fingers and squeezed them into fists before standing too and turning to see her mother with a false smile. The weight of things finally falling on her shoulders.

Thank you so much for reading!

[mitchmarnier]

SEMI CHARMED LIFE | CHAPTER TWELVE | 4.3K | TEEN |

“You guys have kept in contact this whole time?” Bill asked, brow disappearing underneath hair line as he looked like his old friends in amazement. “And you guys are.. what? Room mates?”

Eddie avoided looking at Richie as he answered. “Yeah, uh… room mates. Something like that.”

[or: the adult!losers reunion, done 2000s sit-com style, just like we all deserve.]

PREVIOUSLY ON SEMI CHARMED LIFE: “So, what are you going to do? About your job?”“I’m going to have to find something temporary, or I’m going to lose my apartment.” Ben admitted,  Ben reached for the door knob again, letting his hand hover on it until Beverly’s footsteps started and faded away. He sunk down to the floor, pulling his legs up to his chest and pressed his face into knees. From his apartment, he couldn’t see how Beverly got to the stairway and sat down against the wall with matching tears in her eyes. |  Richie, it’s been ten years, man. I’ll regret what I did to you every day for the rest of my life but I’d really like to move past this. You were best friend for fifteen years before that, and I… I’ve always missed you.“ I thought I was past this, I thought I was easily eight years past what you did. But now I’m here, looking at you and having to listen to you go on about what a great experience you had at school and how in love you are and I…. I want to be happy for you, Stanley, but I can’t. Because you stepped on me to get it.” | “Maggie, she… She had a stroke. They were still in the air and the airline medic can only do so… she didn’t make it. I’m so sorry, baby.”  “My mom’s dead?”Eddie let out a pitiful sob, taking those few final steps to press himself up against Richie’s chest. Richie felt as Eddie’s tears wet his shirt, but he barely contained the motor function to bring his arms up and wrap them around him.

NIGHT TWO

Eddie pressed the phone to his ear, trying to maintain to composure when he could hear Frankie babbling in the background on the other end of the line. “Thank you again, Mikey.” Eddie sighed, knuckling at the tears he hoped that Mike wasn’t able to hear. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough.”

“You don’t need to thank me at all, Eddie.” Mike assured him for the millionth time in the last 48 hours. “I’ll always take care of the girls if you need me to. You take care of your boy.”

Eddie looked down the hallway towards his and Richie’s marriage bedroom and sighed. “I wish I knew how. He’s just… barricading himself in our room. He won't even answer me when I knock on the door. I just don’t know what to do. I slept in Bev’s room last night, and it was cold and lonely and awful.”

“Richie’s locked himself in your room?” Mike asked, the obvious concern in his voice starting to leak out.

Eddie shook his head, though Mike couldn’t see that. “No, no, it isn’t locked. Richie would never lock me out, I’m not sure that he even knows that our bedroom door has a locked. He’s not a locked door kind of guy, it just… it feels wrong to intrude on his grief. I’ve never seen him like this, he’s basically catatonic. And I’m scared.”

“I know it looks bad right now, Eddie.” Mike’s voice were soothing and made a small sense of calm settle over Eddie. He still felt that helplessness he’d felt fourteen years ago when Richie had told Eddie he’d caught his father having an affair, only upped to a hundred. That feeling of knowing Richie’s life was going to change forever, and there was nothing Eddie could do to make it easier for him. “But I think Richie needs to know that you’re there for him. And not in that… oh he knows I’m always there for him kind of way. I think you need to really make it clear. Tell him.”

Immediately, Eddie wanted to respond that Richie knew. Of course, he knew. In the last ten years, he and Richie had hardly even needed to speak in order to exchange information. But maybe Mike was right. Knowing that Eddie was there for him wouldn’t be the same as Eddie showing him.

Eddie sighed. “I don’t want to push him. Mike, you know what Richie is like when he’s-”

“Eddie, I adore you, but I don’t think any of us can really know what Richie is like or wants in this situation. Not even Richie.” Mike said gently. “He’s never been through this before, and he wasn’t expecting it. I’ve been mentally preparing myself for my dad to die for the last five years. One second Richie was talking to his mom on the phone about picking her from the airport, the next she was gone. He probably has no idea how to deal with this, Richie’s bad enough at his own emotions.”

Eddie nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. “I barely remember when my dad died. I know his was sick, I can sort of remember, but most of what I know about it is from what my mother told me. Those things could easily not even be true.” Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, the last thing he wanted to think about at this moment was to think about Sonia. “The Toziers had always been my real family anyway.”

“Yeah.” Mike said, remembering. “I know this must be hard, Eddie, and there’s go right way for you or Richie to respond. I wish I could be more help.”

“You’ve helped tons, Mike.” Eddie laughed sadly. “More than I could even I could have even expected. You’re one of the best people I know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Mike chuckled dryly. “Good night, Eddie. Take care of your man. Everything else will come in time.”

Eddie said his goodbyes and hung up the phone. It was a little bit earlier for him to go to bed normally, especially with the rest of the week off work, but Eddie had found that he’d just been completely exhausted the past few days. He moved down the hallway towards the room he should really start calling the guest room again, but couldn’t stop thinking of as Beverly’s room, but stopped. Thought on what Mike had just told him.

He turned and walked into his bedroom. Richie was awake, Eddie could see his eyes were open, but he barely responded to Eddie entering the room. Eddie padded over to his side of the bed, already in his pajamas having not changed all day, and crawled in beside his stiff husband.

“Goodnight, Rich.” Eddie said sadly, turning onto his side and facing the wall instead of at his empty husband. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Richie said through a rough and dry throat, because Richie had never not returned an I love you. They spent the night in the same bed, on opposite sides.

DAY THREE

“Frankie, I know you’re frustrated but I need you to put on your shoes please.” Mike said, kneeling in front of the toddler with his hands on his knees. He knew that Frankie was a fan of getting herself ready as much as she could, but this morning it had just been one long struggle.

Frankie grabbed the small blue sneaker off the ground in front of her and threw it away. “No!” Frankie cried, her voice dripping with whine. She kicked her little feet out, smacking them against the hardwood floor of Mike’s apartment. “I do’ wanna go anywhere! I wanna go home!”

Mike sighed. It had been like this all morning. When he’d put the girl to bed the night before, she had been her usually bubbly self. That had all changed over night, Frankie being tired and cranky from the second her eyes had opened and regularly demanding to be taken home. He understood the girls distress, but her mad mood seemed to rubbing off on her baby sister as well and Mike was positive he wasn’t going to handle them both like this all day.

“Sweetie, I know this doesn't seem like fun to you.” Mike said, holding his hand out for Frankie to take. She did, though she was still glowering up at him. It was funny, for a child who was adopted, how much she looked like Eddie sometimes. “I know you want to go home, and I’ll take you home soon.”

“Take me home day!” Frankie cried, kicking at Mike’s ankles. “I want home! I want my daddys!”

Mike sighed sadly, pulling Frankie into his lap. The grumpy child immediately settled into chest. She made a sad noise as she nuzzled against him. “I know, I know. Soon, okay? I’ll take you home soon, I promise.”

Frankie looked up at him, pouting deeply. She didn’t give him an answer before they turned towards the living room at the sound of Ben’s startled gasp. Mike scooped Frankie up in his arms and walked into the arm, stopping suddenly at the sight of little Marty, propped up on her stomach, mostly just dragging herself across the floor. Ben was staring down at her in shock.

“Is she crawling?” Mike asked, staring down at the small baby. Mike quickly looked towards Frankie, was who looking at her sister with a bored expression. “Has she ever done that before?”

“No.” Frankie said simply, rather uninterested.

Mike and Ben stared at each other in horror before Ben hurried to scoop Marty up in his arms. They looked at each other for a moment longer before Mike pointed at him. “Nobody tells Eddie about this.”

Later that night, Bill Denbrough let himself into the little 24 diner and sighed. Beverly was sitting up at the front counter, with two empty cups in front of her and a third that was half full. Her red hair seemed dimmer in colour, piled up on top of her head. Her face seemed pale and gaunt, the circles under her eyes so dark they looked as though she’d been punched.

“Where do you stay on your days off?” Bill asked, walking up to her and slapping a five dollar bill down onto the counter.

Beverly looked up at him, eyes blank before she scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Beverly said dryly, grabbing the orange cranberry muffin for Bill and dropping it on the plate in front of him.

“Okay, sure. Whatever.” Bill rolled his eyes, ripping the top off the muffin as he sat at one of the counter stools. “When are you going to go over and see Richie? I’m assuming you heard about Maggie.”

“Yeah,” Beverly said in a broken voice, pressing her hands over her eyes. “Eddie doesn’t want to see me.”

“Who the fuck cares what Eddie wants?” Bill asked, frowning. “This isn’t about Eddie, it’s about Richie. Whatever you did to make Eddie so mad, I doubt it matters now. I’m s-s-sure he’s not even thinking about it.”

“You don’t understand, you don’t know what I did.” Beverly said, shaking her head but Bill gave her a dark look.

“No, I don’t know what happened.” Bill said, with a shrug. “But I some shit, too, and yeah- Rich was pissed at me. I’m sure it’s worse than whatever you d-did, Bev. But if we want to act like it’s bigger than Maggie dying, we’re worse people than I thought we were.”

Beverly sighed, shaking her head. “Eddie and Richie don’t want me in their lives. They’ve made that clear, Bill.”

“Richie has only ever cut one person out of his life, and that was Stan.” Bill said, frowning. “Are you trying to say what you do was worse than what Stan did to him?”

Beverly swallowed a hard mouthful of the now-cold coffee and looked pained. “Maybe. I don’t know… maybe.”

Bill shook his head. “There’s no way, Bev. You’d never do something that could hurt Richie like that. Or anything close to that.”

“I’ve done things that have hurt Richie before.” Beverly said, finally meeting Bill’s eyes full on. Flashing starting showing for them, remembering that betrayal of that many summers past.

“Let yourself o-off the hook for that B-Bev,” Bill said quietly. “You didn’t ch-cheat. You aren’t a ch-cheater.”

Beverly laughed humorlessly. “I think you’re wrong there, Billy Boy. I’m pretty sure that’s actually what I am. Beverly Rogan; Homewrecker.”

Bill blinked. “You used your married name.”

Beverly looked back at him, gaping. “I… I guess I did.”

Silence settled over them, stifling and uncomfortable.

“I need to find somewhere to live.”

DAY FOUR

Eddie was startled by the sound of his front door opening. He was in the middle of making some grilled cheese and tomato soup for himself and Richie. The day before Richie had finally began to accept the food that Eddie offered him, though he’d still hadn’t spoken a word outside of returning Eddie’s I love you’s. Everytime he heard the gravel of Richie’s voice, Eddie wanted to break down into tears but he continued to tell himself that his time to grieve would come.

“POPS!” He heard his daughter cry as she ran into the house as fast as her little legs could take her. Eddie’s heart jumped into his throat and his eyes were overtaken with tears. He stumbled slightly as he dropped down to collect his daughter in his arms. He pushed back up to his feet, squeezing his arms around Frankie, then moved to take Marty into his grip as well. He barely even looked at his two friends. “Oh my God…”

Eddie cupped the back of Frankie’s head and looked up at Mike and Ben through tears. “I… I don’t think we’re ready to have them back here. I... Richie’s still in bed, he…”

“Keeping you guys separate isn’t helping anybody.” Mike said firmly. “It’s making your girls upset, and I can see it hasn’t been easy on you. You might think Richie needs space, and maybe he does, but you guys just lost a very important person to you both. And you, Eddie, need your family.”

Eddie made a pitiful noise from the back of his throat, and shuffled forward to let Mike wrap him and the girls up into a hug. With a child in each arm, Eddie couldn’t hug his best friend back but he rested his head on Mike’s chest and knew that he knew how thankful Eddie was to have him.

“I’ll be back,” Ben said, glancing into the kitchen and sighing. “I think we’re going to need more than just a grilled cheese and soup to feed us all.”

Eddie pulled back, stared at Ben with wide eyes. “Oh, Benny… you guys don’t have to stay. Really, I’ll be okay-”

Ben cut him off, shaking his head with a soft smile. “You heard what Mike said. You need your family right now. I’ll be back. Chinese or Italian?”

Eddie’s bottom lip trembled for a moment before he took in shaky breath. “Italian. Please bring extra bread.”

“You got it, Kaspbrak.” Ben nodded as he walked back out of the house and into the night. This was only the third time he’d been to the Kaspbrak house, but he knew well enough that there was a nice Italian place down the road that even Beverly- a woman who would only accept Mexican take out- raved about. The idea of visiting it- where he and Bev had their first date after getting together- made him feel a little sick. He found himself wandering past it and ended up in the subway station.

Sighing, Ben went to turn around and head back to that stupid Italian food place when he noticed a familiar person sitting on a bench. Beverly Marsh was sitting crossed legged on the cement bench, wrapped up in an oversized purple sweater that had to have belonged to Richie Tozier. Ben inhaled deeply, wondering if he could- in good conscious- just walk away before he moved over to the bench and stood in front of his ex-girlfriend, and love of his life.

Beverly looked up slowly when she noticed his shoes, staring with panic as though she’d seen a ghost. “What are you doing, Bev?” Ben asked her softly, trying to keep his heart harder than his words.

Beverly shook his head and coughed roughly. “I’m uh… waiting for my shift to start.”

“When does your shift start?” Ben asked, scratching the back of his neck and trying his hardest to not look at Beverly.

“Tomorrow night at nine.”

Ben jerked to look at her, at her work uniform underneath Richie’s sweater, to the grease matted ponytail and makeup less face. It didn’t look like the Beverly Marsh he’d always known. This was a person who’d reached the ultimate low. “Bev, where are you living?”

Beverly swallowed, eyes starting to tear up. “I work the overnight shifts, so it’s really fine. I only have the two days off a week and-”

“And you’ve been sleeping in the subway station on those days off?” Ben asked, feeling his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach.

Beverly laughed blandly. “Well, I haven’t done much sleeping but yeah… I’ve been hanging out here.”

Ben ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed. “Come on. I’m going to get food then heading back to Eddie and Richie’s and crashing there tonight.”

Beverly started shaking her head frantically, even as she accepted Ben’s outstretched hand. “No, I can’t go there. I fucked up, they kicked me out, they don’t want to-”

“Bev, shut up.” Ben said a little sharply, taking her aback. “Eddie is not going to give a shit if you come back with me right now, or if you ask to use his shower. I promise. Your petty drama is the last thing on his mind. I’m not going to pretend you aren’t going through something bad right now, but frankly, Bev- we all fucking are. Life sucks. Spend time with people who don’t.” Bev looked at Ben for a long time with tears in her eyes. “Please. Come get dinner. You can’t live off coffee, pastries and no sleep.”

Beverly nodded slowly, taking Ben’s hand as they turned out of the subway station and started to walk back towards life.

When they reached the house with food in hand, Bill and Audra were already sitting around the living room. Frankie, seeming much much happier than she had been with Mike and Ben the past two days, was putting tiny pink elastics all through Bill’s hair. Audra was staring at him as though it was the first time she’d seen him. Mike and Eddie were both sitting on the couch, Eddie holding onto his youngest daughter as though he was afraid to put her down.

Richie was still nowhere to be seen.

Eddie looked up from Marty’s face, expression already blank before he even looked at Beverly. When he saw her, a small hint of red appeared on his cheeks, but he just looked back down to his daughter and told Ben where he could find plates.

They had all been sitting around the Kaspbrak’s living room for only a few short minutes before the front door banged open again. Eddie sat up straighter, as though counting the people in the room, before every eye in the room turned towards the front foyer.

Stanley Uris rushed in, hair a mess and shirt tucked. Patty came in just behind him, looking just as put together as always, despite the time coming close to midnight. Eddie clenched his jaw, and stared Stan down. Stan seemed to wither under the weight of the glare, but he didn’t move. Didn’t leave.

“UNCLE STAN!” Frankie cried, jumping away from Bill and running at the new surprise guest. Several difference expressions came over Eddie’s face in a single moment, before he turned to look at Beverly with his mouth agape. Beverly had already covered her face with her hands.

“Uncle Stan!” Frankie tugged on Stan’s pant leg, a sure sign that she wanted him to kneel down to speak to her. Stan let his eyes fall away from Eddie and did as Frankie was wanting. “My daddy is real sad. He won’t leave the bed. Pops is worried, everybody is sad.”

Stan gave the concerned girl a small smile. “I know, honey. It’s gonna be okay.”

Frankie’s face seemed to light up as she looked at Stan. “YOU can make my daddy happy again!”

Stan flushed. “Oh, sweetie, I don’t think I’m the person your dad wants to-”

“You are, you can do it!” Frankie yanked at Stanley’s shirt. “You’re my daddy’s best friend. He told me. There was the picture in his room, and I didn’t know who you were, and I askeded and he said that’s my best friend, Stan.”

All the adults in the room, excluding Stan, turned to look at Eddie on the couch. Eddie continued to watch Frankie and Stan interacting, a small, sad smile on his face. Stan had tears in his head and had to press his lips together to stop from crying in front of the small girl.

“You can make my daddy come out of his room.” Frankie said once more, patting Stan on the shoulder with her tiny baby hand. Stan swallowed and looked up, eyes finding Eddie and seeing nothing else. Eddie let out a short sigh, before gesturing towards the hallway for Stan to go.

Stan stood on shaky legs and walked down the hall. There was only one room with a shut door, and his gut knew that Richie was in there. It was entirely possible that Richie was already sleep, that this was waste of time in more way than one, but he found himself knocking anyway. “Hey, Richie.”

Silence. Absolute, dead silence. It was eery, terrifying. So unlike Richie to give no response.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from.” Stan said, leaning backwards up against the door and sliding down to the floor. “But for some reason, your daughter seems to think I’m perfect person to get you out of this room. They probably want to shower.”

Stan winced, and still didn’t receive a response from inside the room. Of course, humour wasn’t going to get him through his. If there was humorous way out, Richie would’ve found it by now.

“I’m so sorry about your mom, Rich.” Stan said, sinking to the ground and letting his knees come up to his chest. “She was… probably one of the best people I’d ever met. You know, one of those people you kind of feel like you didn’t even deserve to know.”

Stan inhaled deeply. For a quick second, he wondered if his old friends in the living room could hear him but decided to throw those fears away. He had to put himself all out there if he was going to get anywhere. “You’re one of those people, too, Richie. I hope you know that. It’s crazy to think about how many people in your life have had the honour to meet you, and just haven’t appreciated it. Completely took it for granted. Your dad, your sister… me. You and your mom, Richie… too good for all of us.”

Stan thought he heard the sound of a bed creaking, and his heart was settled heavily in his throat now. “Your mom came to see me, before I left Derry. I don’t know if she ever told you. The day I leaving, she came over. I didn’t have a going away party, since none of you were speaking to me and I just wanted to get the fuck outta Dodge…” Stan chuckled wetly, remembering the day. “But your mom came over and I was so scared that I almost hid in my room and told my parents to send her away. I thought she was going to rip me a new asshole for what I did to you. And I would’ve deserved it, I know, but I wasn’t ready for Maggie to look me in the eyes and tell me that she hated me. That you hated me.”

There was a thump behind Stan, as though a weight had pressed up against the door on the other side.

“But that’s not what she said.” Stan continued after the sound. “She’d brought me some ugly fucking lamp- you would’ve loved it. I remember that being my first thought when I saw it. But she…” Stan swallowed roughly and it took him a moment to find his bearings. “She hugged him, and she wished me good luck in college. She said that- that I’m not what I did. That she would never hold it against me, because she knows that person I really am- the person I was going to become- would never do it, and that I’d hate myself for it more than anybody else ever could.”

Stan knuckled at the tears that were travelling down his face almost angrily. “And she was probably right. There hasn’t been one day in the last ten years that I haven’t thought about. Regretted it. Hated myself for it. But I’ve also remembered what Maggie said to me about it, how she was willing to give me the benefit of the doubt when I didn’t deserve it at all. I had done nothing to deserve your mother’s kindness, but she gave it to me anyway. Because that’s who she was; kind. And so are you. You’re just like her. And I bet she was proud of you every single day.”

The door behind Stan was suddenly ripped open, and Stan nearly fell flat on his back. He scrambled up to his feet and turned around, staring at Richie. Richie looked worse than Stan had ever been able to imagine he would, his hair so dirty and greasy it looked almost straight and flattened to his head, and it seemed as though he’d lost too weight in too short a period of time. Stan’s heart clenched and he couldn’t hold back the small, sad sound that he made.

Richie tumbled forward as though his legs couldn’t hold him anymore, and crashed directly into Stan’s chest. Stan’s arms came out immediately, reflexively, and flew around Richie. He held Richie to him, swaying them back and forth for a moment. Stan squeezed at Richie, the first time he’d touched him in a decade, and had to close his eyes as emotions threatened to over take him completely.

Too soon for Stan’s liking, Richie pulled back and wiped at his tears. Seeing that, Stan wiped at his own and gave a small laugh. Richie smiled at him, and though the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes, it was better than any look from him Stan had gotten recently. “My… uhm…” Richie cleared his throat, speaking seeming painful. “Eds… my girls?”

“They’re in the living room,” Stan said with a nod. Richie nodded back at him, and they moved towards the living room without speaking. The moment Frankie got sight of the two of them, she let out an over excited cry. She ran from Mike’s side towards her father. Richie knelt to scoop her up as reached him, spinning her around.

“Daddy still sad?” Frankie asked, looking seriously at her father.

Richie gave a small smile. “Yeah, baby. Daddy’s still sad. But it’s going to be okay.”

Frankie wrapped her arms around Richie’s neck and rested her head against him, giving the only kind of comfort she’d learned how. Richie closed his eyes.

Eddie stood then, staring at though in a daze, and walked towards his husband and daughter. He paid so little attention that he stepped on Ben’s hand, not noticing the way Ben had to fight not to curse and break the silence in the room.

When Eddie was standing only inches from Richie, Richie’s eyes opened. They landed on Eddie, still holding baby Marty, and he held a single arm out. Eddie let out a small, choked sob and fell into Richie’s arms.

Bill turned to Beverly, trying to whisper. “I think Eddie and Richie might be dating.”

[ivanoconnorhorrorbooks-blog]

Despite many able to argue that attempting to rank the talents of Stephen King in a 'Best Stephen King Books' type-article is a foolish battle, I am going to give it a go as it's a great excuse to get my King collection out. First time King-readers will also hopefully benefit from this, as let us remember that the great Stephen King has published over 60 books by the age of 64, and with the inconsistency that inevitably brings - reading the wrong novel first might put you off King forever. And oh what a crime that would be! Here goes - My personal 13 best Stephen King books.

The following best Stephen King books list is based on a broad number of criteria, including the number of sleepless nights caused from the nightmares that swiftly followed reading the books...

13- Misery

Misery was one of the first King stories that I got my hands on, and I remember reading it from start to finish over the span of no more than three nights. It makes for a fantastic introduction to Stephen King's writing and I thoroughly recommend it as a potential first King novel to read. Misery is the chilling story of an author named 'Paul Sheldon' who has spawned a series of popular stories about a woman known as only 'Misery'. Paul Sheldon decides he wants to write about something new, so he kills off the character known as Misery. On his way back home he has a car accident which overturns his car, leaving him knocked out. He then awakes to find he has was saved and being looked after by a strange woman named 'Annie Wilkes', who also happens to be his number one fan. Annie is not impressed with Paul's decision to kill off Misery, and so Paul, who once wrote to make a living, is now writing for his life. A truly fantastic story, which admittedly should be avoided if you are weak at heart, as there are some tremendously vivid and terrifying gory scenes.

12- The Green Mile

The Green Mile is a highly acclaimed novel that was originally published over six short separate instalments, each being released a month after the other and ending in a nail-biting cliffhanger. Those were the days...

Many have you have probably seen the movie-adaptation in which Tom Hanks stars, need I really say more? Unlike many other movies based on books, the movie is a loyal and strong interpretation of the book accompanied by remarkable acting. However, despite being a great movie, the book is still king (pun unintended) thanks to the many twists and sub-plots that did not make it into the movie. The story is set in the 30′s and tells the emotional tale of the experiences of prisoners on death row and the guards. The green mile is wonderfully well-written - you feel part of the fictitious world that is full of oppression and segregation that leads to multiple memorable thought-provoking and moving moments. Who said Stephen King can only write horror gems?

11- Bag Of Bones

Bag of Bones is possibly King's most ambitious attempt at having a love story. Similar to The Green Mile this is another of Stephen King's novels that doesn't strictly follow his early horror style of writing, and as such is not as popular as some of his other work. Which is a shame, because if given the chance, this is another truly wonderful ghost story full of twists and vivid characters. The main character is, as you've come to expect with King, a writer called Mike Noonan. Mike's wife suddenly dies and causes him to have a severe case of 'writer's block'. In order to get over his writer's block he returns to his summer house, where he discovers that his wife was on the trail of something highly sinister. With countless twists and turns concluding to a haunting ending, you will undoubtedly be left as breathless and mentally exhausted as I was. Great read...

10- Firestarter

Firestarter is perhaps one of Stephen King's lesser known novels and doesn't often feature in lists of the Best Stephen King Books. It might have something to do with the underwhelming reaction people had after seeing the movie-adaptation - many people see films and then read the book if the movie was any good. Whatever the reason is, a lot of King fans are missing out on a very good story which they would surely love. Firestarter is the tale of a father and his young daughter with pyrokinetic powers, who have to constantly be on the run from a government agency trying to capture the young girl to use her powers for their own gain. The plots are cleverly connected and the likeable characters make you genuinely care for their well-being. Recommended.

9- The Dark Tower Series

The Gunslinger is the first entry of King's The Dark Tower series and follows the protagonist, Roland, on his quest to the Dark Tower, but before he can get there he must locate his enigmatic antagonist that he kindly calls 'The Man in Black'. King took twelve years to write this book, but came up with the epic first line while still at University: 'The Man in Black fled across the desert, and the Gunslinger followed', gripping start for sure and there's a great deal more of it as you discover how Roland is capable of extreme violence, yet somehow still manages to come across as kind. A great start to a great series and a must-read for any Fantasy/Western book-lover.

8- Pet Semetary

Pet Sematary (purposely misspelt) is one of King's most enthralling and chilling novels. I read it for the first time when I was 14 and the disturbing nature of the story hindered the quality of my sleep for weeks (months?), I wasn't able to pick it up for several years, and for that reason I would wholeheartedly recommend this novel to every horror-lover. The story starts out when the Creed family, a happy family of four and a cat, decide to move house. In their new home, unspeakable evil things start to happen and are certain to keep you on the edge of your seat. Thoroughly frightening and definitely not one for the faint-hearted.

7- It

It is the story of a sleepy town in Maine, called Derry. Every three decades, mysterious and unspeakable evils occur, first come the rare sightings that are quickly followed by a series of murders of young children. The local residents refer to the being that causer of these acts as It, and not much is known about It, apart from the fact that it can shape-shift and appears to each person as a combination of their worst fears. A group of outcast teenagers decide to take a stand against the ultimate evil, and as adults return to Derry three decades later to fight It. The beauty of this book is in how King sets the mood of the story, by making It live in places within our very own homes that we take for granted, such as drains and sewers and the strong chemistry between the main characters as they are naturally gravitated towards each other due to their outcast status.

6- Different Seasons

Different Seasons is a collection of four different stories that saw one of Stephen King's first attempts at writing something not strictly-horror, however do not despair, there are still plenty of gory moments to keep the hardcore fans satisfied - Starting with Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption (Hope Springs Eternal) which tells the story of an innocent man in prison convicted of murder, plotting his escape. With fantastic characters and a gripping story, it is a great start to the book. Many people will be aware of Frank Darabont's adaptation of the book into a movie which revels in the brilliance of the story - Shawshank Redemption, however this should not be the only reason to pick up this book, the rest is just as good. The second story in Different Seasons is called The Apt Pupil (Summer of corruption) and is about a seemingly normal teenager who discovers that a local resident is a war criminal, and causes him to develop a morbid curiosity about Nazi death camps. The third story is called The Body (Fall from Innocence), which is the touching story of four teenagers who are dared to go into the woods to confirm the existence of a dead body, and ends up becoming a coming-of-age story. Finally we have the macabre The Breathing Method (A Winter's Tale) which tells of an unmarried and pregnant woman determined to give birth, no matter what... All four stories are severe page-turners and will have you go through a range of strong emotions. Highly recommended for a rainy day.

5- Carrie

Carrie, as you are probably aware already, was Stephen King's first novel and kick-started his incredible career. It is hard to believe that this masterpiece was a writer's first published work, and the popularity and cult-status that it created still remains intact to this very day. Carrie takes you into the world of a lonely and tormented teenage girl who has problems both at home and at high school. Unable to connect with anyone, Carrie finally snaps and unleashes her rage using violence mixed with her telekinetic powers, causing havoc in the usually quiet small town.

4- Salem's Lot

Salem's Lot was Stephen King's second novel, following the hit that was Carrie. It was released in 1975 and immediately became another massive hit by terrifying even the most hardcore of horror readers. The protagonist is author Ben Mears, plagued by personal demons, decides to move to an old mansion in Jerusalem's Lot in a bid to rid himself of them and write a new book. However, Ben quickly discovers that things are not as they seem, and that his home town are under siege by the dark forces of evil. This is a vampire novel, but unlike the recent wave of romantic vampire stories around, these vampires are not friendly or charming at all, they are pure evil. The characters are, as expected, well-developed with believable back-stories that will keep you engaged and highly interested.

3- The Dead Zone

The Dead Zone comes in at number seven on this Best Stephen King Books list and is a book that I personally was mysteriously put-off reading for a very long time, I still do not know why that was, but I was very mistaken to not pick it up sooner. It was King's fifth published novel and is one that Stephen King himself later admitted to being one of the few novels that he plotted and actually liked. The Dead Zone is a fast-paced story about a man called Johnny Smith who after a terrible accident is left in a coma for several years. When Johnny finally awakens, he quickly discovers he has obtained the unique ability to limitedly see into the future of people he touches. With this new power and strong desire to use them for good, he unwittingly foresees terrible events. What makes The Dead Zone so special is that the writing is controlled and well-paced, but above all the character development is fantastic.

2- The Shining

The Shining is a chilling story that follows the dysfunctional Torrance family with a sickening past plagued by alcoholism and abuse. The father of the family, Jack, was a teacher until the day he spotted some of his students damaging his car and ended up punching them. After losing his job, the family are forced to move to a far away and isolated hotel, as that was the only place that would offer Jack a job. During a terrible winter the Torrance family are snowed in and forced to look after the hotel on their own, initially things seem under-control, but as the iconic 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy' statement, all is not well... There are not many characters outside of the family of three, allowing the novel to provide vast amounts of information and back-stories to all them, leading to stand-out character-development, which must rate among Stephen King's very best.. One of my favourite novels ever written and an absolute must-read for any book-lover - even if you have seen the critically-acclaimed movie starring Jack Nicholson.

To conclude our Best Stephen King Books list, I leave you with the book that marked me the most and despite giving me countless cold-sweated and sleepless nights, I read at least four times. A true premier horror classic that will remain in every horror and King aficionado's library forever:

1- The Stand

The Stand is a book that most readers are familiar with. Initially I thought that having to state a number one for a best Stephen King books list would be a tough task, but after remembering The Stand, it was the easiest one of the list. The story starts in the early 90′s in the California Desert, where a deadly mutated flu virus created by the U.S government manages to escape from a biology testing laboratory through a contaminated guard by the name of Campion. Unwittingly, this panicky character sets off a domino effect where 99% of the world's population is rapidly killed off by the deadly virus. The only survivors are those lucky (or unlucky) ones that happen to be naturally immune to the virus, but they are terrified and forced to survive in the depressing and desolate landscape. What follows is an incredible story of desperate struggles filled with humanity and real depth. This is possibly the best horror book I have ever read and if you have not read it yet, what are you waiting for?

That concludes this Best Stephen King Books list, and I wish I could have included many more, a few notable absentees that I'd like to mention are: Skeleton Crew - A collection of stories, The Long Walk - 100 boys meet for a race, if you break the rules you get a warning, exceed three warnings and what happens is truly terrifying and lastly Christine - The story of a teenage boy who falls in love with Christine, a rather 'special' woman.

Stephen King's vast imagination is one to be jealous of. King's delicious talent for story-telling makes his novels tremendously engrossing, and his ability to weave and connect his worlds with the vague perceptions we have of our own is remarkable and causes us to have strong feelings and even desires that these tantalizing worlds could actually exist in an alternate universe somewhere. If you have never picked up a Stephen King book, I couldn't recommend strongly enough to research the one that might initially suit you best and let yourself become absorbed by the incredible worlds of the King.

[captainignatiuspigheart]

Another week, another near-sun tan. This week I’ve seen a friend in person (what the actual fuck?) and found a new direction for exercise. That sounds pretty good, right? It was extremely disconcerting to meet up with a person in real life – I’ve begun to feel a little like all my friends who have long assured me that they’ve met their best friends purely online – but three hours sitting in the local park in a government-approved triangle was lovely. I’ve been seeing others largely as things to be avoided as they blunder towards me, breathing heavily with no sense of physical distance. Apart from the postman and chin tilts to neighbours it’s the most human experience I’ve had of late. I also attended a properly fun Zoom birthday party too (thanks Mr Ben!), so clearly we’re getting used to these things.

Heading out in the direction of Dovecote Lane park eventually sent me that way on my bike too. I’ve found exercise really hard for the last couple of months. I’ve always relied on cycling to work (and the swim at the halfway point) for a few miles in each direction to keep me fit without feeling like I was doing exercise, and it’s been pretty good for keeping me fit and able to eat and drink what I like. Well fuck you very much lockdown, that’s been properly trashed. Cycling in an aimless circle round university park or Beeston has been quite cack, and while jogging on the spot clearly burns calories it’s too tedious. So I’ve started cycling out to Attenborough Nature Reserve. It’s not especially far, but I’ve rarely explored round there, so I’m enjoying heading off down a road with no clue where it goes. It’s not made me late for work… yet. Even when I didn’t sleep at all on Thursday night I got up and went for an explore before work. Must be good!

In between late night walks around Beeston, drinking too much and watching TV, we’ve continued our slow build of the LEGO Brick Bank. It’s quite lovely.

I’ve also finally returned to LEGO Star Wars: The Complete Saga on our Wii. I’m up to 30-something per cent and enjoying it enormously. I have discovered though that our TV really can’t handle proper dark contrast on a sunny day, so I’m dying a lot by falling off edges I can’t see. There have been a few levels where I’ve had to stand right in front of the TV (in sport mode), and just hoped I’d find the exit to a room. Still, I’ve got Indy and General Grievous to hop around and smash stuff, so I’m happy.

Oh yeah, and another bootleg Mando arrived this week – with shiny beskar armour! Baby Yoda will have his Mister Shiny Helmet. Nicely, he comes with a screwdriver accessory which I assume is supposed to be the tracking fob. There is something in me compelling me to acquire more of these guys… I’ve also just got the Armourer, but pics of her will have to wait till I’ve crafted a custom cloak. What is wrong with me…?

  Watching: Hollywood

OK, so this should have been in last week’s post, but I’d forgotten that we’d watched it. That’s no indication of how good it is, everything belongs to the neverwhen at the moment. Plus we caned through it in three nights. This is a very strange show, offering us an alternate Hollywood of the 1950s in which the reviled minorities of the day can actually get a foothold in the industry. The show nails the golden era vibe, from movie producer boardrooms to the grim/delightful gas station gigolos. Over the first couple of episodes the show draws together the flailing careers of half a dozen interesting and purposely diverse young Hollywood hopefuls and then sets them together in a movie, despite, or perhaps because of, their race, gender and sexuality – all things that would have killed their careers in real Hollywood. It’s a very pleasing show; the acting is great, from the keen Jack Castello moonlighting as an escort from the aforementioned gas station (it and its owner, Ernie West, are an absolute highlight), aspiring black actor Camille, Archie the black and gay screenwriter who finds himself in a relationship with Rock Hudson (also a delight, and terrible actor in a fantastic screentest montage), and the awesome double act of Hollywood execs Dick Samuels and Ellen Kincaid, plus the quite distressing sleazy and manipulative agent Henry, played with soiled glee by Jim Parsons. 

It’s really good fun, and a moving story – each success feels wonderful, and Hollywood getting behind this gang is immensely satisfying, as is the acceptance and coming out of various characters at all levels of the business. For me, it remained jarring however, for just how unreal the situation is compared to Hollywood of the ’50s – it never escaped its own unlikeliness. Most certainly worth a watch.

Doing: We Are What We Overcome – Live Specials

We’re continuing to livestream every other Monday on Facebook, this time on trying to be aware of our mental health states, as well as that of others. I feel like we’re getting better at this live babbling thing. It feels less awkward now. We’ll be streaming to Facebook next on Monday 1 June, and you can watch em all right here.

Reading: The Lock Artist by Steve Hamilton

I’ve been through another couple of weeks of struggling to read properly, or at least as quickly as I enjoy. After discarding half a dozen books less than one chapter in, I finally prised open my book cupboard and pulled out the first pretty thing I could find. It was this! A pleasing and sharply written story of a boy traumatised into silence by an event in his childhood (which is only fully revealed toward the end, and works very nicely),  a lad who discovers he has two talents, drawing and lock picking…  We’re given two main story threads to skip between: his life as the lock artist led by a series of pagers offering jobs that he responds to, and how he got into all this trouble in the first place. They’re both peculiarly endearing, and that’s partly down to the charming internal monologue which carries through all of his interactions, since he does indeed remain mute throughout. He’s funny, and sweet, enough of an outsider through his selective mutism to have a cynical eye, and yet through his silence other people just trust him. Including proper big bad criminal types. It all ends rather badly, but we’re told that from the beginning. His lengthy infatuation and distance romance via comic book pages that he and his sort-of girlfriend exchange is genuinely delightful. This is fast-paced and fun, with a harsh shade of real darkness in both his past and future.

Reading: Transformers vol. 1: The World in Your Eyes

This was a hard read for me. I’m a huge fan of IDW’s previous Transformers continuity, which ran for an extraordinary thirteen years (a feat that I don’t think any other Western comic series, still less one based on a toy line, has achieved), taking us from the brutal finale of the Autobot-Decepticon war through to peace time, with wonderful characters, alternating humour with dark political wranglings. This new reboot has quite a lot to live up to… 

We’re taken millions of years back to Cybertron pre-war, introducing us to the sights through the eyes of newly forged Rubble, who’s being shown round by Bumblebee. Of course, it’s the worst possible time to show a new kid round, as the tensions between the establishment and Megatron’s “Ascenticons” are just now bleeding over into violence. It’s a lovely Cybertron, one we’ve only glimpsed before in flashbacks (or, memorably, time travel), and it’s a thriving world with vast architecture, travel and commerce. A successful world, which for what feels like the first time, has organic alien races living alongside the Transformers. It’s sad to think it’ll all be ripped apart soon…

It’s a very pretty comic, but is incredibly slow moving, even for the first chapter introducing a rebooted world. I suspect I’m finding it hard going from the well-established characters of the last continuity to seeing them all reshuffled and now filling different roles. It’s a cool era to set the story in though, and I think it’s got promise.

Building: LEGO Ninjago 70736 Attack of the Morro Dragon

I love Ninjago’s dragons and the insane aesthics the range has pursued down the years, giving us both traditionalish ninjas and dragons, but also Mad Max dieselpunk, enormous mechs, and more recently Tron-style arcade stuff. Bonkers. Oh, and also the stunning Ninjago City builds and the even wilder designs from The LEGO Ninjago Movie.

This set’s a little older, and like most of the Ninjago line I only pick them up when they’re quite severely discounted. Obviously it was the glow in the dark colours that appealed to me most of all, and those lovely wings. It’s a satisfying assembly, with a mini temple build, sky bikes (or something, I don’t really follow the stories), a couple of ninjas and three more of these evil ninjas with transparent legs and heads. Oh, and two ghosts. I’ve already put them somewhere but it’s the dragon I was interested in.

This is actually a smaller set than I thought it was, and comes together very quickly indeed. Despite being larger, and having more pieces than Master Wu’s dragon (a fantastic LEGO set), it’s a shorter build all round. The construction is like many of the others, a combination of big crunchy joints and the little Mixels ones for legs, wings and tail. I always enjoy the design of the dragon head itself, which gives the beastie a lot of character. The chin horn is oddly satisfying! All the glow in the dark pieces give the dragon its lovely roiling curves, but leave it sadly inflexible. It’s a dragon I’d love to coil around a building, but that’s gonna take a severe re-engineering of its body. It’s rather striking, and I imagine this one will remain constructed for quite a while, at least until I want to plunder its glowing parts.

And just because I liked it…

Watching: Never Have I Ever 

We watched this in a single night… I’m always thrilled to stumble across shows with under half-hour episode lengths at present. This is a pretty straightforward US highschool outsider tale, from the somewhat unusual perspective of an Indian-American family. That’s a pretty familiar trope in UK TV, and was very welcome in the even-more-familiar US high school setting. I’m not sure that there’s anything exceptional here, but it’s warmly told, with a number of fun and occasionally over the top performances, all solidly conforming to our expectations of a high school drama. I had some trouble figuring out how old the characters were supposed to be as it’s the usual casting combo of girls who must be in their twenties, but look about 14, and guys who are plainly in their mid-thirties. No wonder kids are so confused these days etc. As usual it’s the vibe between the BFFs that makes this fun to watch, particularly drama-queen Ramona Wong (wonderfully and worryingly odd in the lamentably cancelled Santa Clarita Diet). As filled with diversity and coming out stories as you could hope for, this is plenty of fun, if not especially memorable. Oh yeah, and it’s narrated by John McEnroe. Yes, the tennis player. 

Doing: MissImp’s Virtual Improv Drop-In – “Specific and True” with Terje Brevick

Continuing our mission to bring you improv from everywhere, this week’s episode features Norwegian improviser, Terje Brevick, with fun games and a good reminder of the value of details and honesty in improv.

Last Week – a really busy week! Featuring another mental health livestream, books: The Lock Artist & Transformers vol 1, TV: Hollywood & Never Have I Ever, LEGO: Morro dragon and MORE. Sleep now please. #books #tv #lego #stuff https://wp.me/pbprdx-8EZ Another week, another near-sun tan. This week I’ve seen a friend in person (what the actual fuck?) and found a new direction for exercise.