#the only break I got from constant rage while reading that book was the sudden legal tangent on

[jaggedwolf]

Under The Banner Of Heaven is a well-written book juxtaposing the murder of a woman and her child by Mormon extremists with the founding of the Mormon faith, but in both halves it is depressingly and enragingly exactly the story you'd expect: a theology focused on the subjugation, rape, and abuse of women and girls, to the point it is nakedly obvious that the theology simply arose from the desires of men in power

[willownoir1112]

Hiya everyone! Wyn here with a late day seven of White Rose Week! Due to circumstances beyond my control, I never got a good chance to post this... Angst train that I should have done earlier this week, but didn't because it's angsty. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy, and I'll see you tomorrow with the bonus day!

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Apart

Everyone knows who Ruby Rose is. She used to be brave, she used to be daring, she used to laugh in the face of danger. She used to carry a giant scythe that her enemies feared. She led a group of heroes who saved the world from a great darkness, only to be irreparably broken less than a year after their victory.

Calm yourself, Dolt. Penny and I will only be gone a week.

She's a constant presence at the airship port. She goes there every day and sits in the same seat by dock 34. She always has the same book in her hand, she always wears the same outfit, she always has cookies for children who run up and ask. Otherwise, she is silent day in and day out, her nose stuck in the book that told the stories of brave knights and beautiful princesses, of courageous heroes and ignoble villains. Forty years has she waited for an airship that will never return, the woman she has been apart from all these years one of it's many lost passengers.

Ruby, if you insist on being childish about it, then simply wait here. My airship will return to dock 34 in a week's time.

She always smiles at the children, even though it is hollow and empty. She always has kind words for them when they run up to her laughing and asking for sweets, even though her eyes are lifeless and dim. The guards never bother her, and look out for her every single day. They make sure she eats, has plenty to drink, and is always comfortable. Any adult who looks into those once shining silver orbs see the shattered soul behind them, and leave her in peace. No one can sit in the seat she has claimed for so many years now once she leaves for the evening, for they all feel in their own souls the depths of her sorrow and loss that radiates from the piece of furniture. A loss that has broken the once vibrant woman and turned her into an empty shell.

Miss Rose, Miss Schnee is never coming back.

Only the longtime head of security, Jaune Arc, remembers the moment when Headmaster Ozpin came to inform her. He himself had been by her side, along with her sister and both their teams when she was told that the love of her short life was never to return to her. He tells his newest recruits the story, and always, always it ends the same way: watching his best friend's soul shatter before his very eyes. Of watching the light leave them forever, even as she screamed in denial. None of his recruits dare to point out that his own eyes are as dead as her's. No one has the desire or curiosity to speculate as to how two people with souls as dead as theirs can still live.

If they did, they would finally realize that they are both simply empty shells, going through the motions of lives they stopped living forty years ago...

When I return, I will be a free woman. And then, we will get married as we wish.

It was a horrific sequence of events that took Weiss Schnee and her companion, Penny Polendina, away from Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc. James Ironwood, who was consumed with his hatred for the two women along with those that they loved and held dear, hijacked their airship and forced it to crash into Atlas Academy's CCT tower. The two young women were among the many dead from the madman's horrid actions, actions which broke the two people who loved them the most. Ruby especially broke, and now repeats the same actions every single day without fail, despite them always leading to the same sad, heart wrenching conclusion.

I love you from now until forever, Ruby Rose. No matter what, I will return to you.

Ruby returns every single day without fail, always sitting in the same seat, despite her own slowly failing health. She never even flinched when the doctor came and told her the cancer was now in her brain, as well as all her organs. She simply continued to read her book as she continues her vigil, while the world around her moves ever onward. An engagement ring still adorns her now bony finger, a promise made over forty years ago still driving what is left of her failing heart and shattered soul to wait for the woman she loves. She never attended her father's funeral, or her sister's when they each died a Huntsman's death. She never stopped even when Weiss's best friend Blake begged her to come with her and her children to Menagerie. To learn to live her life once more, despite being apart from Weiss. She never even looked up from her book when she was informed that Ren and Nora too had passed, Ren of cancer and Nora of her own grief. She had put her life on hold when Weiss Schnee left for Atlas, promising that they will be together forever upon her return. But her life stopped when the light left her eyes instead. Her life has been a series of repeated motions that have never deviated no matter the circumstances of the world around her.

Jaune, I can't leave my sister like this…

Then leave. I know her pain, Yang. I'll keep her safe.

Jaune Arc has outlived his entire team. He has outlived even Ruby's sister Yang and her teammate Blake. He and Ruby are all that are left of the Heroes of Beacon, and he keeps their leader safe in all their memories. And every night, he sits next to Ruby for a time, comfortable in the silence between them as she rereads the same book, and he looks towards the empty horizon. Both of them are waiting for women who will never come home to either of them in this life. He then takes her home, only to repeat the same cycle of never ending sorrow the next day. A seemingly endless cycle that has lasted for over forty long years.

We will never be apart, Ruby. Not as long as you keep me alive in your heart.

No one knows exactly when Ruby and Jaune finally gave up on life. It was once again the beginning of the day, and Jaune has taken to simply sitting next to his leader since he was forced to retire. He soon is also repeating the same motions, while wearing a uniform that is no longer his, while keeping the silent women who would only break said silence with kind words for the children who would notice her company. They never spoke to one another, yet no one would deny they knew they sat alongside one another day in and day out. They were broken apart from the ones they loved the most by one man's rage, and were broken in spirit as well. A little cat faunus girl wandered up to the two of them, hoping the old woman who smelled of delicious cookies would share one. Instead, everyone nearby was alerted by her sudden screaming and begging for the two of them to wake up, to stop staring blankly into the still empty horizon. All anyone remembers is her weeping, her screaming, her grief. The adults who gather around her, who console the little girl, hope that the two heroes, who both died with smiles upon their faces, are finally reunited with Weiss Schnee and Penny Polendina in the afterlife.

No one could see the long overdue airship finally return, almost forty one years to the day that it departed. They couldn't see the ramp extend, or the white haired woman or the ginger haired one rush out. They couldn't see Ruby and Jaune both rise up, despite the loss of their mortal selves. They were once again young and healthy, and their eyes were alight in their joy. None of them would ever witness Penny crashing into Jaune's arms while sobbing, or Weiss walking up and simply taking Ruby's offered hand with tears in her own eyes.

"You dolt! You were supposed to live for us both!"

"I'm sorry Weiss, but life isn't worth living without you."

"And Heaven is empty without you, Ruby…"

[tfw-no-tennis]

animorphssss.....2!

ok one L abt reading the series on my ereader is that the flipbook illustrations arent there ;_; those were my favvvvv

anyways I love animorphs still

I feel like I'll end up repeating myself a lot during these little liveblogs lmao but mannnn it’s so good. its so hardcore. like I know that that’s the whole Thing but I still get shocked by some of the stuff that happens 

like a big theme in the series centers around the morality of killing your enemies - and it’s so all over the place bc in book 6 you have jake boiling a bunch of yeerks alive, which is kinda gnarly if you think abt it, but the alternative would be to leave them there and let them infest people soo...? and that’s basically the point, that there are never any easy choices in war 

also I went on the animorphs wiki to look at trivia bc I love doing that and I cant BELIEVE (some of) the books were reissued in 2011 and they changed/removed some of the references to be more ‘modern’ omfg....talk about erasing 90s culture smh 

likeeee I was born in 97 so I didn't exactly grow up in the 90s and therefore some of the references go over my head but its so charming and fun to have them there! and it makes sense given that the books are SET in the 90s

I don't remember ever being confused by any of the references as a kid (tho for sure a lot of them went over my head), but then again I read the books in like 2008 sooo

also some of the stuff that they change - like changing ‘recorded w/a vcr’ to ‘recorded w/the TV’ or ‘floppy disc’ to ‘flash drive’ may make more sense to modern audiences, but doesn't make sense in the context of the story still being set in the 90s

tho it is funny that the books use the phrase ‘hook up’ to mean ‘meet up’ a lot bc that is a phrase that definitely has a different meaning nowadays

alsooooo as it turns out I'm p sure I only read a couple of the spinoffs - the hork-bajir chronicles and the ellimist chronicles (which was confusing lmao), bc my library didn’t have the others :( 2007/2008 woes....

but now I get to read the spinoffs woooooooo so I read the first megamorphs and the andalite chronicles 

I'm reading them in the chronological order (I think?) which is good bc part of the problem was that I read the ellimist book at a completely weird time and it confused me more lmao

megamorphs 1 basically felt like a regular animorphs book except longer, but the plot didn't feel like it needed all that extra page space tbh? even so it was an entertaining adventure

and rachel having amnesia was great, amnesia is one of my fav tropes lmao. and it was a lot of fun here, though a bit underutilized 

another favorite trope of mine is time travel, so I'm gonna have a really fun time here w/that

as for the andalite chronicles, I really enjoyed that one. I thought it was a well done story about the horrors of war (which is a theme animorphs does excellently), kind of similar to the overarching story of the whole series, but fit into one book without feeling rushed

the way the story starts out with elfangor wanting to be a hero, not understanding what that entails, to the end where he IS going to be a hero, and he knows now that this is a burden rather than a reward 

the horror elements are also really strong, with the taxxon morph being horrifying of course

and mannnn I loved that we got to see more of the taxxons as a species, and see that not all taxxons submitted to the yeerks - which breaks the previous theme of ‘all the taxxons are evil just because’ 

this book also establishes that the taxxons gave themselves over to the yeerks due to their constant hunger being unbearable, so it isn’t just that they’re evil for fun 

animorphs does such an excellent job showing that each ‘side’ of a war will have good and bad (or at least sympathetic and unsympathetic) people 

also loren was awesome, what a cool character. though I didn't realize she was literally like 13 until the very end of the book, holy shit. that's crazy. i thought she was 16 at the youngest....geez. her throwing a rock at visser 3 is even more iconic knowing she's a middle schooler at the time

and chapman was here! I'm assuming this must be the same chapman as the assistant principal controller... I thought it was a little strange to put chapman in that role, bc in this book he was a huge asshole basically the entire time, but in the previous (’future’) book it was revealed that he became a controller willingly only to spare his daughter, which is pretty far from this book where he’s actively trying to sell humanity out to the yeerks...people change I guess? (also he got his memory erased so I guess there's that)

alloran was a really interesting character. horrors of war again - we hear from his old buddy that he used to be a fun, witty guy, but war changed him into somebody who would do horrible things 

and him becoming a controller was horrifying, obviously, but I like that alloran wasn't portrayed as some perfect, holy guy in order to make it all the more tragic when he got infested. its already fucked up enough as it is, and making him flawed was a lot more meaningful 

and him wanting to flush all the yeerks out into space....oooooof the (later) parallels hurt 

plus the fact that elfangor refusing to commit genocide against the helpless yeerks (even though they’re the enemy) directly contributing to alloran becoming a controller.....oof. I love that it shows that even making the morally correct decisions during war can lead to awful things happening, but not in a way that endorses evil actions - the story isn’t saying that elfangor should have killed the yeerks, it’s saying that there are no good choices in war 

arbron being trapped as a taxxon was fucked up. but also really intriguing, especially how he found purpose and led a free taxxon uprising. I don't remember if we hear from him/the free taxxons again but I hope so

also the plot twist of tobias being elfangors SON...bruh. I do remember that despite not having read this book so it must come up in the main story later but my memory of that is vauge so I’m excited to see how that plays out. it’s always gonna be hilarious to me that ax is technically tobias’s uncle 

and then the ellimist drops in and wacks up the time stream even more. classic. I love the crazy time travel stuff in animorphs

omfg and the bits where elfangor is a human tech guy and talked about his friends bill and steve LMAOOOOO

also the scene where elfangor drives the yellow mustang while blasting '(I cant get no) satisfaction’ by the rolling stones was one of the most iconic things I've ever read

basically I loved all the angles of war fucking people up. from loren’s dad, to alloran, to elfangor himself learning about the true horrors of war...v well done imo

ok back to the main series - so my pick for the most fucked up scene SO FAR (in my own personal opinion) - the scene where they're in the jungle and rachel passes out in bear morph and a bunch of rainforest ants start EATING HER ALIVE and like crawling into her ears and mouth and HGGGGGG that was genuinely so fucking disturbing

its a good thing that the time travel made it so rachel couldn't remember that bc that was fuuuuucked

another contender is a scene we don't actually see - erek having his capacity for violence instated and then slaughtering a ton of human and hork-bajir controllers 

like damn, you know its fucked up when its too fucked up for ANIMORPHS to even ‘show.’ this is a series that doesn't pull punches but evidentially that would've been Too Much to actually portray (understandably). also i feel like seeing the aftermath/everyone’s reactions had more of an impact than describing erek killing a bunch of people would have

also I forgot that marco Literally Fucking Dies during that scene and that's why he doesn't get to see the slaughter. wow

and then in the very next book JAKE dies too. jesus

oh it was also so sad and fucked up when marco’s dad told him that he and his wife used to fight sometimes, but then all of a sudden they stopped fighting, and their relationship was basically entirely peaceful and perfect - and this is how marco knows exactly when his mom was made into a controller, bc of course a yeerk wouldn't care enough to get into petty arguments like that....ooooof

Okay and book 15 really got me...that was fucking heavy man. Geeeez. Everything w/Marco and his mom is so fucked uppppp

Like he literally has to deal with so much awful traumatizing shit. The scene where he pretends to be a controller and is face to face w/visser one and THAT HIS MOM but he can’t even do anything, and he just sees the evil in her eyes and thinks about how there’s no way she had been controlled by a yeerk that long before bc he’s never seen her look like that...that was so fucking sad.

Plus Marcos mom now thinking that Marco is a controller...aughh...and then later Marco knows he can’t even think-speak to her bc he’ll just talk about everything he’s wanted to talk about to his mom this whole time... ;_;

And the parts where Marcos humor slips and the utter rage he feels towards the situation comes through...man

Plus everything about him being understandably afraid of sharks after being nearly torn in half by one back during their first dolphin adventure

Augh oh and jake telling Marco that everyone can tell something is up bc Marco isn’t joking around and talking about how insane their plan is like usual, so Marco fakes it sand does all that even tho he’s terrified and conflicted...aughhhh

Ok and the last scene where Marco is thinking about a future where he and his parents can talk plainly about how awful and traumatizing everything is, and then eventually they’ll feel okay enough to joke about it, bc Marcos mom is the one who taught him to look at the funny side of life...Oh The Pain

There were a lot of great fucked up individual lines in this book too. I’m just so sad about these poor middle schoolers jfc

Also I do distinctly remember the scene where they collapse the shark tank at Ocean World or w/e, it was weird af reading it bc I remembered none of the rest of the book but got weird deja vu reading that scene and remembering having read it like 13+ years ago

if it’s not clear by now I have a pretty terrible memory for media which is honestly good bc then I can reread things and it’s like new

Also jake...man...I said it previously but I was kinda eh about jake when I first read these bc he’s kinda the ‘basic’ character, but now I find his story much more interesting

His conflict over being leader is really good. KAA does a fantastic job capturing the pressure he’s under bc he was chosen by his friends to be the leader, so he REALLY can’t back out, and he doesn’t necessarily feel up to it, but feels he has no choice in the matter...

And constantly having to make really difficult decisions that could get his friends killed...geez. It’s so much pressure. And he talks about wanting to go back to being a normal kid when this is all over, and it kinda strikes me as him being in denial - like, there’s no way things can ever be ‘normal’ again, but that’s his way of coping.

Especially with Tom and all that. That conflict is so compelling...jake having to play all these different roles - as leader, as a son/student, as a regular brother to Tom - he’s constantly having to act a certain way and rarely gets to be Himself

It’s actually kinda relatable in a way - that feeling of being In Charge, but in a somewhat abstract and informal way, so you feel like regular old you, but you have to carefully regulate how you act bc the people around you expect a certain standard of behavior from you...

And all the morally grey situations they’re put in are fucked up, but especially for jake who has the final say on what they do, even when knowing it could lead to his friends being killed or made into controllers

Like in the book with the cannibal yeerk guy - there’s basically no good choices there. Jake lets the cannibal live, and (at first) implies that it’s for the best that he’s cannibalizing other yeerks and therefore helping get rid of some yeerks - except that he kills their hosts too

but the alternative would be to directly kill another human being who isn't actively fighting/resisting you, which is a fucked up thing for a middle schooler to have to do 

And the conflict between jake and Cassie is really excellent bc jake has to make these awful decisions, and Cassie is the type of person who can’t stand that sort of thing, so it gets left up to jake a lot, but then she’s upset with jake for doing something awful, even while knowing that there were no better options

like, her asking jake to kill the cannibal guy for her was really fucked up, but also entirely understandable for cassie as a character to ask. it was an emotionally charged situation, and cassie is an emotional person. she’s also somebody who like to Act, to do concrete good, and getting rid of an Evil Bad Guy in front of her would be a definite action

But Cassie is a great source of morality to the group - most of them are pretty jaded, but Cassie is able to hope in a way none of the rest are. It creates a really compelling dynamic between jake and Cassie that I kinda dismissed when I was like 10 or w/e

Also the scene where jake as a fly gets crushed and starts dying? Seriously fucked. And then after when he’s nearly breaking down in the airport and Cassie comforts him...that was a really good scene. Cassie is so good  

And the continuity is so excellent - I love how in book 17, Cassie (and jake to an extent) doesn’t really weigh in on the moral debate abt the oatmeal bc she’s still shaken up by asking jake to murder a guy for her, and then (presumably) going ahead and lighting his house on fire when jake doesn’t kill him

And augh jake and Marco have such a good and interesting dynamic - the entire group kinda pushes each other into their respective ‘roles’ in the group, but for a few books that’s really true for jake and marco

I don't remember what book it was but at some point marco (I think) mentions that jake understands what marco is dealing with w/his mom being a controller bc of tom, but that they don’t talk about it bc they ‘don't talk about stuff like that’ or something and I'm just like noooo talk to each other :( 

but at this point jake feels like he can’t really express doubt and fear and stuff like that bc he’s the Leader and they look to him to be strong (which is ironically very similar to how rachel feels), and marco feels like he can’t be serious bc he’s the funny guy. 

Basically I love all the different dynamics in the group. How Cassie and Rachel are such opposites but are best friends and get along well, while Marco and Cassie are more directly opposed - as jake says, Marco is ruthless, and Cassie definitely isn’t. Rachel and Marco are also pretty different which is interesting, bc they have a lot in common, and actually agree on a lot (even if they disagree out loud) but their commonalities combined with their circumstances make them react very differently to the same situations

I also love seeing the differences between characters from each other’s POV - like, p much all the characters think that Rachel is completely fearless, but when the book is from her POV, we get to see that that isn’t true at all - she feels plenty of fear, but she recognizes that her role in the group is to be the fearless one, so she pushes aside her fear to fit into that role (which inadvertently pushes her more and more into that ‘fearless warrior’ box - something that happens to all the characters more and more as the story goes on, like jake as ‘the leader’ and Marco as ‘the jokester’).

Also I loooove the grey morality of literally everything. Like the book where ax discovers an andalite traitor - not a controller, just an andalite who betrayed them to the yeerks. This leads to the deaths of like a hundred other andalites, and that whole scene you really just feel for ax, bc he feels so awful about everyone else dying while he escapes, yet he’s also so grateful to be alive, which he in turn feels bad about...

And ax’s conflict about being torn between his home w/his fellow andalites and his new home on earth w/his friends is great

And oh man I fucking love book 19. Any of the books where it goes more into the yeerks and their side of things are so good, just like the book where jake was made into a controller.

And book 19, where we meet a sympathetic yeerk, comes right after 18, where we meet an andalite traitor - again, I love how we clearly see that no one side is completely good or completely bad

So yeah book 19 fucking slapped. That shit was so compelling. I love how Cassie made a bunch of foolish decisions based on naïve hope, but it worked out!! Things aren’t always bleak and awful!

Except there were plenty bleak and awful parts of this book. It had a great balance of moods tbh, even though a lot of the situations were extremely contrived lmao. I love the stuff that aftran says, which is basically what I was thinking when I started my reread - being a yeerk fucking sucks, you’re literally a blind slug but also completely and fully sentient, on the same level as humans and andalites - and as afran pointed out this book, the yeerks are born as parasites, just as humans are born as predators - why is it okay for the humans to kill countless animals to eat, but not for the yeerks to enslave races to act as hosts? Well, the situation isn’t totally comparable, which Cassie and Marco both point out when aftran makes that comparison - the yeerks are enslaving sentient species, and cows and chickens are not the same as the humans and hork-bajir (though the story understandably doesn’t fall too deeply into the ‘who deserves what right/animal sentience’ rabbit hole).

And I like that aftran points out that the yeerks basically have 2 options currently - stay helpless and blind in a yeerk pool, or enslave a host. It’s interesting to hear that a lot of yeerks don’t like doing this but see it as the only options, as opposed to complete sensory deprivation. It makes me wonder if there are yeerks who are so staunchly against it that they elect to stay as pool-bound slugs forever

Also maybe it’s the shounen anime fan in me but I don’t even care that much that Cassie’s entire plan was completely off the rails and hinged on only the slightest chance of success - with failure being much more likely and completely catastrophic, with the animorphs and their loved ones all being wiped out, vs success being unlikely and also achieving...a moral victory? Peace between two enemy combatants in a huge war? nothing all that concrete...anyways it was a bunch of good-faith horrible decisions on Cassie’s part, but I don’t even care? I love stories where hope and love save the day against all odds, especially when they’re wielded like weapons by a character and make everything end nicely

This is especially true here bc animorphs is generally a series that leans very far away from that type of thing, so when it does happen, it feels like a victory. Plus the David trilogy is next so we kinda need a happy ending while we can

also bc I compared animorphs to hxh last time, I now have to compare it to the other series I've (partially) liveblogged, transformers mtmte.

this is gonna be more abstract and brief but basically. mtmte is all about after the war, and everyone has so much trauma and everything just sucks, so they all go on a space cruise and work on themselves. basically.

but the series does a lot of exploration of how war fucks people up - same as animorphs, tho animorphs spans the beginning of the war (for the main characters at least) until the end, whereas mtmte starts when the war ends.

but the point is. both series do an excellent job showcasing the wide range of reactions people have to being put in unthinkable situations during wartime. all the major characters in mtmte go through arcs where they heal/change from the war, some more subtle than others

basically the animorphs needs to go on a wacky space cruise adventure with a bunch of other fucked up people and figure their shit out, mtmte style

ok this is wicked long already so I’m gonna end it here. also I feel like I should start the next liveblog w/the david triology bc I’m for sure gonna have a lot to say abt that

[tuancore]

Lost You (Part 11) :

Starring- Jinyoung x reader

Genre- Angst

Summary- It's your choices and actions which made you miserable.

Standing outside your apartment's door, you examined the door briefly, every single line and curve, remembering the time when you both first moved to this apartment after coming to Seoul, everything flashing before your eyes, rethinking your each and every decision in life. When you first came to Seoul, you felt like an outcast but with Jinyoung by your side, you had that hope of everything going to be alright, can't believe that same Jinyoung became so unfamiliar to you. Twisting the doorknob, you stepped in, just like the first time you entered with him.

Your eyes were covered with a velvety blindfold, you felt like stumbling every now and then in your heels, not knowing where he was actually taking you. He took you by surprise by picking you up in his arms, your hand naturally flying behind his shoulders. He chuckled seeing that terrified expression on your face, "Easy, angel I'm not going to drop you".

"Jinyoung, I swear if you're taking me to some horror house, you know how horrible they are" But he didn't reply you but kept on chuckling, making your stomach churn with anticipation. A ding sound, perked your ears, it was an elevator. He stepped out of it walking for awhile and then stopping again, "Angel,I found the best place for us, exactly what we were looking for", stepping in he gently placed you on your feet, slipping your blindfold.

"Welcome to our home" He grinned, seeing your shocked reaction. You gasped seeing all the showpieces and furnitures, all were exactly the same what you used to always discuss with him. You faced him with tears of joy in your eyes, smiling adoringly at him, "Everything....is exactly the same...". He nodded, hugging you gently while you melted in his arms,"You're such a crybaby..." Wiping your tears he cupped your face with both of his hands,staring into your eyes, he said,"I promise you angel, as long as I am with you I won't let you shed a single drop of tear. And that I'll keep you forever happy and safe in my arms".

The truth is promises are meant to be broken. You always heard that but never believed it until today. All of his words were nothing but sugar coated sweet talks, none of his promise were meant to keep. Dragging your feet to the middle of the living room, you stared at the large couch, it was Jinyoung's decision to keep it there so that you both could cuddle and watch movies on Sundays in each other's arms.

What was that for if he couldn't trust you enough?

Your gaze shifted towards the wall in the front, which at this point looked like some stalker's wall. Jinyoung out of many of his hobbies he was very much passionate for photography as well, and his all time favourite muse was you. You remember, how he used to budge you night and day to pose for him, most of the time you obliged which made him always run after you with a camera. After some time you got irritated, of his constant clicking, so you strictly ordered him to not to click your pics.

"Okay Okay! I won't ask you anymore to pose for me" He rose his hands in surrender, seeing a huge pout on your face.

He loved clicking your pics but it got irritating for you, since you wanted to enjoy moments with him without phones and cameras while he wanted to capture all the moments to reminisce about. So he found another way to keep on clicking your pics rather asking you to pose for him, he took your candid shots, whenever you fell asleep, or when you watered the plants, or when you cooked, when you jammed to your favorite songs, when you read books, or whenever you did some work on your laptop. He just loved you and only you. The wall was wall less and your face in frames more.

What was that for if he couldn't love you enough?

Out of so many pictures one was your favourite, subconsciously you walked closer to the frame taking out from the wall, caressing the image ever so lightly. It was a photo which was a candid shot clicked by JB, when you all went to the Disneyland in LA while visiting Mark's parents there.

"Why are you grinning like that?" Mark asked seeing your stupid grin, but failed to noticed two cones of ice cream in your hands. So you extended your hands showing him the cones, "My favourite ice cream!".

"Two cones? Each with five scoops?" Jackson commented not believing your childishness, "Ten scoops, are you even a girl?". Glaring at him you muttered 'idiot',"Of course I'm a girl that's why I love ice cream".

"More than Jinyoung?" Youngjae asked, teasing you on purpose. "Obviously!", You tilted the heads of both the cones forming a triangle as they the topmost scoops touched eachother, others mouthing an 'Ugh'. Your sparkly eyes became crescent happily biting on the scoops at once, when all of a sudden Jinyoung appeared out of nowhere back hugging you, his mouth on top of your head making it look as if he was about to bite you. Thats when JB clicked it. It was such an adorable picture and your favourite as well.

Someone really has said the truth, that only pictures last forever. Gripping the huge photogframe harshly in your hands, you threw it with a sudden force making it land at the corner of the room with a loud shattering noise. Everything was already over, so what was the need to keep reminiscing over such petty things.

___________

"Youngjae-ah.....Why?....." Jinyoung whispered in disbelief holding onto Youngjae's shoulder, he couldn't believe that Youngjae whom he thought of his smaller brother would hurt him in the most cruel way possible.

"It's not only Youngjae hyung but your so called friend Jisoo too" BamBam hissed, at the thought of Jisoo. Jinyoung snapped at BamBam with shock, another hard punch in his gut, "What are you saying?....".

"Yes, Youngjae and Jisoo were the ones playing you, noona and Jackson hyung like a puppet without any of your knowledge and if you think I'm lying then why don't you ask Youngjae hyung yourself" BamBam concluded with a stern face. Jinyoung turned around facing Youngjae with a furious eyes.

"Why the fuck would you do this to us?! Why Youngjae!?! Why!!" Jinyoung snarled gritting his teeth, his hands wrapped around Youngjae's throat almost cutting his oxygen, Mark and Jackson pulled him from Youngjae while he coughed his lungs out, his own tears spilling out.

"Because I love her....I always have....It hurt everytime I saw her in your arms smiling and giggling, I—.....I felt that it could've been me instead of you whom she loved more than her life.....and to protect my heart from bleeding anymore. I seperated you both" Youngjae's explanation made everyone beyond shocked. They all never thought the reason behind it was another complication.

"The fuck did you say Youngjae!!" Jinyoung growled breaking from Jackson's and Mark's grasp, landing a harsh punch on Youngjae's face which made him fall on the couch behind him, Jinyoung hovered over him punching him a few more times.

"Stop It Jinyoung! Stop it!!" Jaebeom and Mark shouted trying to get him to stop but he was too mad to pay attention to those words, when Youngjae pushed Jinyoung from him throwing a punch at his face, with blood gushing out of his own nose.

"STOP IT! JINYOUNG, STOP IT! CHOI YOUNGJAE!".

Youngjae got up on his feet, wiping the blood spurting out of his nose from his hoodie's sleeves, his cheeks also scraped from Jinyoung's hard punches.

"Since when?" Jackson asked sternly, glaring at him. Youngjae smiled at the mere thought of you, continuing, "Since University, she was my senior. I fell in love with her over time, she was not only gorgeous but kind as well. She saved me from getting bullied almost for an year and after that everyone stopped bullying me, how could I just not fall for her? I planned to confess her but Jinyoung hyung beat me to it! And my heart shattered when she accepted his love, I was broken......".

"Bullshit! You never told me that you were getting bullied back then!Plus she never told me" Jinyoung asserted. "I was! But whenever I was with you all I saw was you drowning in stress to get your master's degree and your father's constant ranting, so I kept quiet!".

"She never told you because I asked her to promise me to not to let you know about me getting bullied otherwise you'll get another reason to stress over and I didn't want you to!"Youngjae informed with his fists clenched in rage, "When she finally became your girlfriend, I thought of moving on so I tried dating but hell not a single girl I've been with could compare to her, I tried hard to convince myself that she belonged to you, she loves you but no my heart wouldn't listen.....it continued to ache for her, how could I just throw away the love which I had for her for past five years!".

With that Youngjae began to untangle all the strings, how he saw Jisoo working for Jinyoung, and from the way she looked at his with those heart eyes was enough to tell that she was in love with him, so he proposed the idea to Jisoo while as accepted it without any second thoughts. All they were waiting was for a right time and a perfect plan, and they got that exact opportunity when he saw you and Jackson meeting frequently without Jinyoung in range.

Coming to those photographs, he didn't had to do much at all, he simply clicked the pictures of Jackson's bedroom with every minor details, and technology gave him the exact environment Jackson's room had, but the real problem was in finding a boy who had same physique as that of Jackson and vice versa for the girl, so that your faces could be photoshoped accordingly, but that stupid girl forgot to hide her streaked hair.

"If you loved noona so much then why did you slut shame her like this?" Yugyeom snapped. "Jinyoung hyung was always insecure of the boys around her, so I kicked him on his weak spot. I couldn't believe when he believed in those fake photographs more than his own girl, I guess he really didn't deserve her".

"Youngjae......it's not love, it's obsession. Love is when you let the person you love just be happy, you completely shattered her! Jisoo and you both hurt the persons you loved! If you really loved her your heart would've ripped out everytime she suffered! It's not love Youngjae-ah, it's your obsession,it can't be love, it's not love........it's not......." JB croaked out choking on his own tears.

"After what you've done to her, Do you think she'll ever come to you? Do you?" Mark belted angrily. "She won't come to me but atleast she won't go to him either" Youngjae hollered with a sick grin, "And that's enough for me. If she can't be mine then she won't be his either".

"Youngjae fucking get out before we really do something to you which we'll regret for eternity!" JB yelled, motioning towards the door, shooting a last smirking gaze towards Jinyoung, he left without a protest.

Jinyoung dropped to his knees, feeling all the pain you felt through these days, all the tears you've shed for the pain he has given you. Small painful whimpers escaping his lips, everyone watched him crying.

"As much as I want to sympathise with you.....I can't, it's you who have brought this upon yourself" JB commented with a poker face eventhough his heart ached for Jinyoung. JB's remark send him further into the pit of guilt and remorse.

"Please..... forgive me......please....." Jinyoung stammered out sobbing hard, "I'm sorry.....I'm so so sorry", he just kept on pleading to the others, even when they were hurting seeing him before their eyes they were well aware that sooner or later this day will come, and Jinyoung will regret his each and every deed.

"You are sorry? You should be sorry. After whatever you've done to her, Do you think you deserve forgiveness?" Jackson crouched down beside him, his words hitting Jinyoung's heart like a dagger.

"Jackson.....I'm sorry......please forgive me. I was so wrong" He cried hugging Jackson, even if he wanted to hate Jinyoung, he couldn't Jinyoung was not only his friend but more of a brother. Unable to control his tears, Jackson sobbed hugging Jinyoung tightly letting him cry on his shoulder.

"Jinyoung hyung.....at some point we all can forgive you but the question is, Will Noona forgive you?" Yugyeom countered in a mere whisper. Jinyoung clutched onto Jackson's shirt, mumbling a quiet "No....".

"How am I supposed to apologise to her?" Jinyoung stared at Jackson for some assurance but found none, "I....I called my angel.....a slut.....how can I? I am such a monster, I even slapped her......when all she did was telling me the truth.....I hurt her, My angel begged me on her knees still I accused her of something so horrible. How can I be so heartless?....... Jackson, I—I made her feel so inferior......" Jinyoung gulped the knot forming in his throat as realisation hit him, facing BamBam he stammered, "BamBam....you said she is pregnant..... I—I despised my own child....our child.....How monstrous was I to hurt her this bad!!......".

By now everyone's eyes gleamed with tears, it was surely painful for him, but it wasn't anything compared to yours. Jinyoung has completely robbed you of your happiness, your everything, he tossed you away like you never meant anything to him while you continued to prove your innocence stepping on your self respect, self esteem. To be honest, he didn't deserve any forgiveness at all.

"Even if everything was set up by Youngjae and Jisoo, the way the things have degraded to, wouldn't have if you.....you" BamBam pointed out his finger at Jinyoung, "If you had faith on Noona, even a tiny bit, none of this would be happening right now. Instead of you crying here and she there, you both would be laughing and smiling in each other's arms........Loving eachother, accept it or not but you never trusted her enough. The way she was hurt, when you chose Jisoo over her......Gosh I can never forget the look in her eyes, She looked dead......so dead!".

Yugyeom patted BamBam's back with an attempt to calm him down, Yugyeom continued, "You can only pray for noona to forgive you. Everything is in her hands now".

The intense air subsided around everyone as BamBam's phone rang, answering the call immediately, he whispered, "Hello...".

The words from the other end broke BamBam to his soul, the phone slipped through his hands as he stared at Jinyoung completely emotionless.

"Noona had.....she had.....a miscarriage".

Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12

Note: I'm not editing the drafts before posting them, so if you guys spot any errors, please let it slide, thank you so much ~~~

_______________________________________

[kbstories]

Deconstruction

de·con·struc·tion (n.) The act of breaking something down into its separate parts in order to understand its meaning.

To Trafalgar Law, trust has never come easy.

(Or: Luffy does his thing and Law recovers.)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Trafalgar Law Needs A Hug, Recovery, Nakamaship, Luffy Being Luffy, Minor Canon Divergence

Set between Dressrosa and Zou but Sanji is there because the author mixed up the canon timeline woops. Content warning for references to suicidal ideation (in the context of Law’s plan).

***

The coffee is good, Trafalgar Law thinks as he follows the wood grain pattern of the Sunny’s dining table with zero interest. His eyes itch like there’s a sandstorm raging between cornea and lid; Law is certain they’re swollen something fierce too, and can’t bring himself to care. Fuck, his head hurts.

Another sip, and Law’s lips twitch into a frown. Scratch that, the coffee is fantastic, and isn’t that another entry on the ridiculously long list of things-to-resent-Luffy-for. Admittedly, this particular dose was administered by Strawhat’s cook. Luffy-by-proxy, then.

Never let it be said that Trafalgar D. Water Law can’t be both a master strategist and a petty asshole.

Cigarette ever-present between his lips, Sanji regards him with something-like-sympathy. The look doesn’t stick around, there and gone while he prepares enough food to be considered a light lunch on the Thousand Sunny, and a veritable feast anywhere else.

Sour mood or not, Law can appreciate the space he’s given. Unlike a certain someone, most Strawhats know to leave him the fuck alone when Law asks for it.

With a porcelain click, a plate is placed next to his half-empty cup of coffee: It carries a colorful assortment of cut fruits and two onigiri, perfectly shaped. The portion is small enough not to challenge the loveless marriage Law has with his appetite, and the glass of water that follows is served sans the usual snide commentary.

So much for that.

Law glowers at Sanji but the cook has already moved on to the dozen other dishes in varying stages of preparation, and to have a staring contest with Sanji’s back would be, well, childish. And unproductive.

The past few weeks – and yes, it’s weeks and not years or decades as his overtaxed nerves will have him believe – have taught Law a great many things. How much he appreciates wonderful concepts like privacy and personal bubbles, for example, and that the Sunny is a parallel universe where those things simply do not exist.

Oh, and also that food is not to be wasted, or else.

Thus, Law doesn't. He eats, and a quiet breath makes it out of his mouth that is only partially the annoyed sigh he intended. Because the food’s fucking delicious, and his stomach decides to stop hating him because it’s his favorite, and the headache that’s been shadowing his every step since he woke up eases just like that. Suddenly, the mother of all emotional hangovers dims and for the first time in hours, Law can think.

Sanji smiles like he knows it, too, the bastard.

Weeks of this bullshit and he’s at his limit, defenses shot, walls badly patched up and crumbling regardless. Law blinks and groans, presses tattooed fingers to closed lids in a desperate bid for the moisture building there to fuck off already.

And he’d thought he’d cried himself into a desert just yesterday. A naïve assumption to make, on a ship populated by sentimental idiots.

“Luffy finally got to you, huh?”

Oh, Law does not want to talk about it. The crux of the problem is that he wasn’t raised among thieves – at least, not entirely – and with the empty plate in front of him and the pleasant tingle of caffeine in his system, politeness dictates some form of reciprocation. Bepo would be oh-so-proud of him, if…

Well. That thought is added to the pile of others he pushes far down to be able to function.

So Law mumbles, “That’s one way to put it”, a fleeting glance over the rim of his cup ensuring that yup, that damnable glint of kindness is back in Sanji's eye and this time it's going nowhere. Law’s shoulders draw up so tight they might as well be made of granite, as rigid and unyielding as he wants to be. Strawhat made quick work of that illusion, too.

“Listen, cook–”

“You really think you’re the only one?” Sanji interrupts him calmly, a statement-turned-question for Law’s sake, and Law shuts up and watches the other smoke for a few, tense seconds.

Tense for him, at least. Sanji looks like he does this every fucking day, leaning against the counter with his back straight and his legs crossed at the ankles and his words piercing past all pretense like he’s the one known to wield swords, not the other way around.

Law just gives him a look. Sanji chuckles and turns his head to blow out the smoke away from him; in return, the doctor spares him the comment about deadly habits that he’s probably heard from Chopper a thousand times anyways.

“Well, you’re not. Luffy pulled that shit with every single other person he’s decided to befriend, so we’re all – pardon the pun – on the same boat here.”

“…Everyone?”

Even Zoro? is the real question here, because Law can imagine pretty much every Strawhat losing it eventually (they’re an overly emotional bunch even on a good day) but somehow his mind blanks at their first mate. And Nico Robin, while he’s at it.

There’s a particular sort of glee in Sanji’s gaze, then. “Everyone. Captain’s a charming little shit, and he hates seeing someone being sad on his ship. With that fucker Mingo gone and”, he gestures casually at Law’s… everything, and Law glares, “it was only a matter of time, really.”

“I see”, Law says but he doesn't, not really. Even after sailing with him, fighting with him, bleeding with him, Luffy remains an enigma and ultimately unpredictable. Law taps a rhythm against the edge of the table, catches himself doing it, stops.

“I don’t know how you stand it.”

What he means is the incessant laughter, the constant interruptions, the Hi Traffy! and What are you doing, Traffy? and Traffy, play with us! and You’re funny, Traffy! – yet all he thinks of are intense brown eyes and a starburst scar and Luffy’s voice, quiet with sudden sincerity:

Don't you know? You deserve to be happy, Law.

Law misses the flippantly dismissive tone he was aiming for by a nautical mile and then some. He winces, looks away with a huff; there’s no way Sanji can miss the rough honesty in Law’s voice, obvious and crimson-red like a target sign, pointing to the parts of his soul left aching and raw.

All Sanji does is shrug as if to say, you get used to it, and he extinguishes his cigarette and picks up the plate and leaves the cup with a pointed look. The cook returns to his craft and just like that, Law is off the hook again.

Oh.

His coffee is cold by now but he finishes it anyway, downing the rest like a shot of liquor. Carefully, Law returns the cup to the counter next to Sanji’s elbow, and his murmur of thanks is accepted with an easy-going smile.

Law’s motivation to step outside and face the day is fractured and hazardously taped together at best. There is no reason to delay it any further: It’s a miracle the galley hasn’t been invaded already, especially with the smell of grilling meat wafting all over deck at this point. Law will take whatever his pitiful sense of luck will grant him.

That is, until he taps his hat in parting, opens the door and promptly stumbles over Monkey D. Luffy, captain of the Strawhat Pirates and recently-assigned commander of an extensive fleet, as he loses balance and rolls into the room with a dumbfounded look of surprise on his face. Law stares as it is swiftly replaced by a delighted smile.

“Oh, hey Tra–!”

With a flash of blue and the dull flop of a book on wood, Law disappears.

*

The sun is dipping towards the horizon and painting everything in vibrant reds and gold when Law decides to stop avoiding Luffy.

It’s a bizarre amalgamation of factors that leads up to it: Nico Robin’s look of mild curiosity as he appears in the library without warning; the fact Law has already dug up and read every book that is even tangentially related to any of his interests (and those that aren’t, too); a rare sense of yearning to feel the wind on his face and to watch the sea as she tosses and turns playfully against the Sunny’s hull–

The sea is out there, however, and so is Luffy, and were his self-control to slip any further, Law would shudder with the nervous energy that tingles in his veins at the thought.

The truth is that Luffy is brilliant. Perhaps not book smart like Law or as mechanically gifted as his shipwright or his sniper – people and emotions, that’s what Strawhat Luffy knows better than anyone, and it’s fucking terrifying. By his own design, Law is more lies and deceit and meticulous strategy than he is a person; it’s what carried him from being a child-beyond-death all the way to Dressrosa, the island-that-would-be-his-grave. It’s the one element that didn’t change in a plan he revised and adapted a million times over the years.

And then Law shambled Luffy out of the air and Luffy smiled at him and they set sail again and there, with all escape routes barricated by endless blue, the man dedicated a whole week of his life to go look for what’s left of Trafalgar Law in the aftermath and just... No.

A real shame that the ally he chose turned out to be allergic to plans. And common sense, and doing things in reasonable amounts, and– He sighs, a tired little noise that is lost to the uncaring backs of countless books.

Yeah, this is getting ridiculous.

Thousand Sunny can rarely be described as quiet by any definition. Stepping out on the quarterdeck, Law is met with the idle cries of sea gulls high above and the fluttering of the gaff sail as it turns to catch a lazy breeze. The sight of a napping swordsman, a sun-bathing model, and a skeleton delicately partaking in afternoon tea with a reindeer really shouldn’t register as anything other than bat-shit insane. He finds himself immediately losing parts of the habitual scowl he keeps on his face, and once again he has to wonder what kind of forbidden magic the Strawhats wield to simply do that.

No matter. With steady hands, Law tucks the tips of his hair under his hat – it’s gotten rather long, without Penguin around to cut it – and makes his way across deck, side-stepping Zoro’s comfortable sprawl with an ease born of practice.

The same ease with which he ignores the mumbled comment of “Fucking finally”, as much as it makes his stomach churn. The notion that everyone on the ship knows is not a comforting one.

Your crew is waiting for you! Are you gonna give up on them, too?!

You don’t know shit about my crew, Strawhat!

Then again, a screaming match between two captains in the small hours of the night can hardly be categorized as ‘stealthy’.

Framed by the sun, Luffy is a proud silhouette atop the figurehead of his ship. His legs are crossed, hands hooked under his shins as if to limit the amount of excited twitching to be done; boundless energy slips through the cracks like the glow of a firefly held between two hands. Law huffs a breath, shakes his head. A botched attempt at holding back but an attempt nonetheless. He can respect that, at least.

The unwritten agreement among the Strawhats is that this spot, it’s Luffy’s and Luffy’s alone. The man claims no other luxury on his own ship – which contains a captain’s cabin, Law checked with the cyborg on that, it’s just that it’s used for storage because Luffy-bro doesn’t like sleeping alone, you know? – and there hasn’t yet been a situation which required contesting that.

Thus, Law hesitates just outside the invisible circle drawn around the Sunny’s wooden mane. And, while there’s little doubt the other can track his approach, he knows he owes him for the tactical retreat earlier in the day.

“Luffy.”

Law’s tone is neutral, expression marginally softened by the clear relief in Luffy’s reply of “Traffy!” that comes with a glance over his shoulder. The grin that follows may be the only predictable thing about the guy, and Law can’t find it in himself to begrudge him for that.

“Come up, come up! I wanna show you something.”

For once, he walks instead of using Room. There’s nothing to replace himself with up there except for Luffy’s hat, and (the expected outcome of his big plan aside) Law doesn’t actually have a death wish. Step by step, Sunny’s head reveals a breathtaking view that only a handful of people have seen: From end to end, the line between sky and ocean disappears in the purple-pink swirls of twilight and a world that stretches on to infinity below their feet. Up here, a universe of possibility is within reach for those courageous enough to try.

No wonder Luffy adores it so much.

Law sits next to him with as much grace as he can muster, one knee pulled close to his chest and disregarding the painful twinge from his side where the nerves of his arm have yet to fully reconnect. His gaze remains on the horizon for a while longer, soaking up the sight befitting of a king.

“So that’s why you’re always up here.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! It’s cool, right?” Luffy snickers, patting the polished wood under them like one would a well-behaved dog. Or lion, in this case. “Sunny’s the best. But that’s not it. Look!”

Law throws him a measured glance to see what he means and gets stuck on the scrap of paper cradled in Luffy’s hand with care, inching straight ahead. “Nami says we’re getting close”, Luffy tells him, voice radiating warmth and giddy anticipation in equal shares. “I can't wait to see them all again!”

Bepo (Bear), it says in Law’s own writing, with a miniscule scribble of the Heart Pirates symbol next to it.

“That’s...”

His train of thought is derailed by the sudden longing wrapping around his heart, there and impossible to push aside. Law misses his crew, misses Bepo’s stupid apologies and Ikkaku’s stern reprimands and the hopeless blush Penguin and Shachi share when a woman merely acknowledges their presence. In hindsight, the months without them seem unbearably lonely, bleak and shadowed without the cozy togetherness of his family and the comforting hum of the Polar Tang all around him.

To Law, giving that Vivre Card to the Strawhats was the last bit of reassurance he needed to make his plan a reality – a wordless promise for them to find his crew and tell them it worked, perhaps some final words, if he got lucky enough to utter them. Now, after, it takes all his resolve not to snatch the precious paper away and never let it out of sight ever again.

He snaps himself out of it in time to stay exactly where he is, opening his mouth without the faintest idea where to begin putting it all into words, but by that point Luffy is already showing him his palm, offering Law everything he holds dear without asking anything in return or even a shred of hesitation.

A captain without a crew is sad and lost. Don’t you know? You deserve to be happy, Law.

In that moment, it doesn’t matter how vulnerable and exposed he felt the night before or that Luffy saw– Law takes the Vivre Card back and holds it up to his eyes, barely blinking as the paper wriggles impatiently between his thumb and index, surrounded by the tender colors of dusk.

“I... When? Tomorrow? The day after?”

“Tomorrow”, Luffy nods and it’s the tone he makes promises with, filled with determination and the courage to dream. He leans back on his hands, says, “Told ya we’ll take you home”, the smile on Luffy’s lips now soft with fondness.

It's an unfamiliar comfort, to watch the sun disappear knowing dawn carries with it a brighter future. For the first time in years, excitement bubbles warmly in Law's chest. Humming, he quietly admits, “Yeah, you did.”

Then Law laughs, rusty and a little awkward, and feels freer than he ever has.

[kkintle]

Map: Collected and Last Poems by Wisława Szymborska; Quotes

Dreams flickered on white canvas.

The future—who can guess it. The past—who’s got it right.

Trite Rhymes     A great joy: flower upon flower, the branches stretch in pristine blue, but there’s a greater: today’s Tuesday, tomorrow will bring mail from you, and still greater: the letter trembles, strange reading it in spots of sun, and still greater: just a week now, now just four days, now it’s begun, and still greater: I kneel on top and make the suitcase lid shut tight, and still greater: the train at seven, just one ticket, thanks, that’s right, and still greater: rushing windows, with view on view on view on view, and still greater: dark and darker, by nighttime I will be with you, and still greater: the door opens, and still greater: past the door, and still greater: flower on flower. —Ohhh, who are all these roses for?

Do you open each human fate like a book, seeking feelings not in fonts or formats? Are you sure you decipher people completely?

Are people really so simple as far as people go?

Lovers     In this quiet we can still hear what they were singing yesterday about the high road and the low road . . . We hear—but we don’t believe it.   Our smile doesn’t mask our sorrow, and goodness needs no sacrifice. The pity we give to nonlovers is even more than they deserve.   We’re so astonished at ourselves, what’s left to astonish us? Not a rainbow in the night. Not a butterfly in snow.   And when we sleep we dream of parting. But it’s a good dream, it’s a good dream, since we wake up from it.

Nothing can ever happen twice. In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice.

One day, perhaps, some idle tongue mentions your name by accident: I feel as if a rose were flung into the room, all hue and scent.

Why do we treat the fleeting day with so much needless fear and sorrow? It’s in its nature not to stay: today is always gone tomorrow.   With smiles and kisses, we prefer to seek accord beneath our star, although we’re different (we concur) just as two drops of water are.

If we haven’t had enough of despair, grief, all that stuff, lofty words will kill us off.   Then we’ll stand up, take our bows: hope that you’ve enjoyed our show. Every patron with his spouse will applaud, get up, and go.   They’ll reenter their lives’ cages, where love’s tiger sometimes rages, but the beast’s too tame to bite.

I TEACH silence in all languages

FOR PROMISES made by my spouse, who’s tricked so many with his sweet colors and fragrances and sounds— dogs barking, guitars in the street— into believing that they still might conquer loneliness and fright, I cannot be responsible. Mr. Day’s widow, Mrs. Night.

We know ourselves only as far as we’ve been tested. I tell you this from my unknown heart

An Effort     Alack and woe, oh song: you’re mocking me; try as I may, I’ll never be your red, red rose. A rose is a rose is a rose. And you know it.   I worked to sprout leaves. I tried to take root. I held my breath to speed things up, and waited for the petals to enclose me.   Merciless song, you leave me with my lone, nonconvertible, unmetamorphic body: I’m one-time-only to the marrow of my bones.

Leave me, leave, but not by land. Swim off, swim, but not by sea. Fly off, fly away, my dear, but don’t go near the air.   Let’s see each other through closed eyes. Let’s talk together through closed mouths. Let’s hold each other through a thick wall.

Since eternity was out of stock, ten thousand aging things have been amassed instead.

Everything’s mine but just on loan, nothing for the memory to hold, though mine as long as I look.

One day the answer came before the question. Another night they guessed their eyes’ expression by the type of silence in the dark.   Gender fades, mysteries molder, distinctions meet in all-resemblance just as all colors coincide in white.

Sunny. Green. A forest close at hand, with wood to chew on, drops beneath the bark to drink— a view served round the clock, until you go blind.

Parable     Some fishermen pulled a bottle from the deep. It held a piece of paper, with these words: “Somebody save me! I’m here. The ocean cast me on this desert island. I am standing on the shore waiting for help. Hurry! I’m here!” “There’s no date. I bet it’s already too late anyway. It could have been floating for years,” the first fisherman said. “And he doesn’t say where. It’s not even clear which ocean,” the second fisherman said. “It’s not too late, or too far. The island Here is everywhere,” the third fisherman said. They all felt awkward. No one spoke. That’s how it goes with universal truths

Ballad     Hear the ballad “Murdered Woman Suddenly Gets Up from Chair.”   It’s an honest ballad, penned neither to shock nor to offend.   The thing happened fair and square, with curtains open, lamps all lit:   passersby could stop and stare.   When the door had shut behind him and the killer ran downstairs, she stood up, just like the living startled by the sudden silence.   She gets up, she moves her head, and she looks around with eyes harder than they were before.   No, she doesn’t float through air: she steps on the ordinary, wooden, slightly creaky floor.   In the oven she burns traces that the killer’s left behind: here a picture, there shoelaces, everything that she can find.   It’s obvious that she’s not strangled. It’s obvious that she’s not shot. She’s been killed invisibly.   She may still show signs of life, cry for sundry silly reasons, shriek in horror at the sight of a mouse.                      Ridiculous traits are so predictable that they aren’t hard to fake.   She got up like you and me.   She walks just as people do.   And she sings and combs her hair, which still grows.

I let myself be invented, modeled on my own reflection in his eyes. I dance, dance, dance in the stir of sudden wings.

Exiled by style. Only their ribs stood out. With birdlike feet and palms, they strove to take wing on their jutting shoulder blades.   The thirteenth century would have given them golden halos. The twentieth, silver screens. The seventeenth, alas, holds nothing for the unvoluptuous.   For even the sky bulges here with pudgy angels and a chubby god— thick-whiskered Phoebus, on a sweaty steed, riding straight into the seething bedchamber

He grew rozes with a “z.

(...) the rest of your life? Old age is a precipice, (...)

I am too close for him to dream of me.

Silence—this word also rustles across the page and parts the boughs that have sprouted from the word “woods.”

Funny little thing How could she know that even despair can work for you if you’re lucky enough to outlive it.

The Railroad Station     My nonarrival in the city of N. took place on the dot.   You’d been alerted in my unmailed letter.   You were able not to be there at the agreed-upon time.   The train pulled up at Platform 3. A lot of people got out.   My absence joined the throng as it made its way toward the exit.   Several women rushed to take my place in all that rush.   Somebody ran up to one of them. I didn’t know him, but she recognized him immediately.   While they kissed with not our lips, a suitcase disappeared, not mine.   The railroad station in the city of N. passed its exam in objective existence with flying colors.   The whole remained in place. Particulars scurried along the designated tracks.   Even a rendezvous took place as planned.   Beyond the reach of our presence.   In the paradise lost of probability.   Somewhere else. Somewhere else. How these little words ring. Alive     These days we just hold him

But this is ancient history. I can’t dwell on it forever or keep asking endlessly, what’s next, what’s next.   Day to day I trust in permanence, in history’s prospects. I can’t gnaw apples in a constant state of terror.

Arduous ease, watchful agility, and calculated inspiration.

Old Folks’ Home     Here comes Her Highness—well, you know who I mean, our Helen the snooty—now who made her queen! With her lipstick and wig on, as if we could care, like her three sons in heaven can see her from there!   “I wouldn’t be here if they’d lived through the war. I’d spend winter with one son, summer with another.” What makes her so sure? I’d be dead too now, with her for a mother.   And she keeps on asking (“I don’t mean to pry”) why from your sons and daughters there’s never a word even though they weren’t killed. “If my boys were alive, I’d spend all my holidays home with the third.”   Right, and in his gold carriage he’d come and get her, drawn by a swan or a lily-white dove, to show all of us that he’ll never forget her and how much he owes to her motherly love.   Even Jane herself, the nurse, can’t help but grin when our Helen starts singing this old song again— even though Jane’s job is commiseration Monday through Friday, with two weeks’ vacation.

Sell me your soul. There are no other takers.   There is no other devil anymore.

I’m bound to pass by all these poppies and pansies. What a loss when you think how much effort was spent perfecting this petal, this pistil, this scent for the one-time appearance, which is all they’re allowed, so aloofly precise and so fragilely proud.

The abyss doesn’t divide us. The abyss surrounds us.

In Praise of Dreams     In my dreams I paint like Vermeer van Delft.   I speak fluent Greek and not just with the living.   I drive a car that does what I want it to.   I am gifted and write mighty epics.   I hear voices as clearly as any venerable saint.   My brilliance as a pianist would stun you.   I fly the way we ought to, i.e., on my own.   Falling from the roof, I tumble gently to the grass.   I’ve got no problem breathing under water.   I can’t complain: I’ve been able to locate Atlantis.   It’s gratifying that I can always wake up before dying.   As soon as war breaks out, I roll over on my other side.   I’m a child of my age, but I don’t have to be.   A few years ago I saw two suns.   And the night before last a penguin, clear as day.

True love. Is it normal, is it serious, is it practical? What does the world get from two people who exist in a world of their own?

Let the people who never find true love keep saying that there’s no such thing.   Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die.

And it so happened that I’m here with you. And I really see nothing usual in that. 

Under One Small Star     My apologies to chance for calling it necessity. My apologies to necessity if I’m mistaken, after all. Please, don’t be angry, happiness, that I take you as my due. May my dead be patient with the way my memories fade. My apologies to time for all the world I overlook each second. My apologies to past loves for thinking that the latest is the first. Forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home. Forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger. I apologize for my record of minuets to those who cry from the depths. I apologize to those who wait in railway stations for being asleep today at five A.M. Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time. Pardon me, deserts, that I don’t rush to you bearing a spoonful of water. And you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in the same cage, your gaze always fixed on the same point in space, forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed. My apologies to the felled tree for the table’s four legs. My apologies to great questions for small answers. Truth, please don’t pay me much attention. Dignity, please be magnanimous. Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck the occasional thread from your train.   Soul, don’t take offense that I’ve only got you now and then. My apologies to everything that I can’t be everywhere at once. My apologies to everyone that I can’t be each woman and each man. I know I won’t be justified as long as I live, since I myself stand in my own way. Don’t bear me ill will, speech, that I borrow weighty words, then labor heavily so that they may seem light.

Non omnis moriar—a premature worry.

Thank-You Note     I owe so much to those I don’t love.   The relief as I agree that someone else needs them more.   The happiness that I’m not the wolf to their sheep.   The peace I feel with them, the freedom— love can neither give nor take that.   I don’t wait for them, as in window-to-door-and-back. Almost as patient as a sundial, I understand what love can’t, and forgive as love never would.   From a rendezvous to a letter is just a few days or weeks, not an eternity.   Trips with them always go smoothly, concerts are heard, cathedrals visited, scenery is seen.   And when seven hills and rivers come between us, the hills and rivers can be found on any map.   They deserve the credit if I live in three dimensions, in nonlyrical and nonrhetorical space with a genuine, shifting horizon.   They themselves don’t realize how much they hold in their empty hands.   “I don’t owe them a thing” would be love’s answer to this open question.

Dentistry turned to diplomatic skill promises us a Golden Age tomorrow. The going’s rough, and so we need the laugh of bright incisors, molars of goodwill. Our times are still not safe and sane enough for faces to show ordinary sorrow.

Our solitary existence exacerbates our sense of obligation, and raises the inevitable question, How are we to live et cetera? since “we can’t avoid the void.

No way out? But what about the door? No prospects? The window had other views.

You think at least the note must tell us something. But what if I say there was no note— and he had so many friends, but all of us fit neatly inside the empty envelope propped up against a cup.

(...) to linger longer, not to go home again. Since only prisoners want to go home.

In Praise of Feeling Bad about Yourself     The buzzard never says it is to blame. The panther wouldn’t know what scruples mean. When the piranha strikes, it feels no shame. If snakes had hands, they’d claim their hands were clean.   A jackal doesn’t understand remorse. Lions and lice don’t waver in their course. Why should they, when they know they’re right?   Though hearts of killer whales may weigh a ton, in every other way they’re light.   On this third planet of the sun among the signs of bestiality a clear conscience is number one.

I know nothing of the role I play. I only know it’s mine, I can’t exchange it.   I have to guess on the spot just what this play’s all about

The star is large and distant, so distant that it’s small, even smaller than others much smaller than it.

Small wonder, then, if we were struck with wonder; as we would be if only we had the time.

God was finally going to believe in a man both good and strong, but good and strong are still two different men.

“How should we live?” someone asked me in a letter. I had meant to ask him the same question.   Again, and as ever, as may be seen above, the most pressing questions are naïve ones.

Whatever you say reverberates, whatever you don’t say speaks for itself. So either way you’re talking politics.

Who knows you matters more than whom you know. Trips only if taken abroad. Memberships in what but without why. Honors, but not how they were earned. (...) Price, not worth, and title, not what’s inside. His shoe size, not where he’s off to, that one you pass off as yourself.

Nothing’s sacred for those who think. Calling things brazenly by name, risqué analyses, salacious syntheses, frenzied, rakish chases after the bare facts, the filthy fingering of touchy subjects, discussion in heat—it’s music to their ears.

During these trysts of theirs, the only thing that’s steamy is the tea.

May delivery be easy, may our child grow and be well. Let him be happy from time to time and leap over abysses. Let his heart have strength to endure and his mind be awake and reach far.   But not so far that it sees into the future. Spare him that one gift, O heavenly powers.

For the sake of the children that we still are, fairy tales have happy endings. That’s the only finale that will do here, too. The rain will stop, the waves will subside, the clouds will part in the cleared-up sky, and they’ll be once more what clouds overhead ought to be: lofty and rather lighthearted in their likeness to things drying in the sun— isles of bliss, lambs, cauliflowers, diapers.

I prefer, where love’s concerned, nonspecific anniversaries that can be celebrated every day.

A miracle, just take a look around: the inescapable earth.   An extra miracle, extra and ordinary: the unthinkable can be thought.

When I see such things, I’m no longer sure that what’s important is more important than what’s not.

Hatred is a master of contrast— between explosions and dead quiet, red blood and white snow.

Perhaps all fields are battlefields, those we remember and those that are forgotten: (...)

Without us dreams couldn’t exist. The one on whom the real world depends is still unknown, and the products of his insomnia are available to anyone who wakes up.

Every beginning is only a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through.

We agreed to death, but not to every kind. Love attracted us, of course, but only love that keeps its word.

We were besieged by doubts. Does knowing everything beforehand really mean knowing everything.   Is a decision made in advance really any kind of choice.

We’re extremely fortunate not to know precisely the kind of world we live in.

I am who I am. A coincidence no less unthinkable than any other.

They aren’t obliged to vanish when we’re gone. They don’t have to be seen while sailing on.

The Three Oddest Words     When I pronounce the word Future, the first syllable already belongs to the past.   When I pronounce the word Silence, I destroy it.   When I pronounce the word Nothing, I make something no nonbeing can hold.

But how to answer unasked questions, while being furthermore a being so totally a nobody to you.

Talking with you is essential and impossible. Urgent in this hurried life and postponed to never.

Understanding came only later: not all misadventures fit within the world’s laws and even if they wanted to, they couldn’t happen.

And what can you say about one day of life, a minute, a second: darkness, a lightbulb’s flash, then dark again?   KOSMOS MAKROS CHRONOS PARADOKSOS Only stony Greek has words for that.

There must be an exit somewhere, that’s more than certain. But you don’t look for it, it looks for you, it’s been stalking you from the start, and this labyrinth is none other than than your, for the duration, your, until not your, flight, flight— (...)

Life on Earth is quite a bargain. Dreams, for one, don’t charge admission. Illusions are costly only when lost. The body has its own installment plan.   And as an extra, added feature, you spin on the planets’ carousel for free, and with it you hitch a ride on the intergalactic blizzard, with times so dizzying that nothing here on Earth can even tremble.

At times I get fed up with her. I suggest a separation. From now to eternity. Then she smiles at me with pity, since she knows it would be the end of me too. 

Assassins     They think for days on end, how to kill so as to kill, and how many killed will be many. Apart from this they eat their meals with gusto, pray, wash their feet, feed the birds, make phone calls while scratching their armpits, stanch blood when they cut a finger, if they’re women they buy sanitary napkins, eye shadow, flowers for vases, they make jokes on their good days, drink citrus juice from the fridge, watch the moon and stars at night, place headphones with soft music on their ears and sleep sweetly till the crack of dawn —unless what they’re thinking needs doing at night.

It’s good you came. Sit here beside me. He really was supposed to get back Thursday. But we’ve got so many Thursdays left this year.

Page after page at a snail’s pace. But we’re still going in fifth gear and, knock on wood, never better.

We eat another life so as to live. A corpse of pork with departed cabbage. Every menu is an obituary.   Even the kindest of souls must consume, digest something killed so that their warm hearts won’t stop beating.

In the end I stopped knowing what I’d been looking for so long.   I woke up. Looked at my watch. The dream took not quite two and a half minutes.   Such are the tricks to which time resorts ever since it started stumbling on sleeping heads.

[infinitexechoes]

So after sleeping on last night’s train wreck, I’m going to make some changes as it pertains to Dany’s direction. I’ve seen a lot of NASTY comments IN THIS FANDOM no less from RPers who are “sure Dany was never supposed to sit on the throne” and who agree that “this has been foreshadowed since she burned  Mirri Maz Duur” and screamed “I WILL TAKE WHAT IS MINE WITH FIRE AND BLOOD”. Also the whole “a Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing” like from the maester. Oh and let’s not forget the “ashes” in the House of Undying. Okay well so if this was Martin’s plan all alone, then okay. She was supposed to be the “ultimate villain” but I have issues with this.

Why spend the entire series giving us all this kick ass female empowerment only to have men running the Seven Kingdoms in the end? Spoiler alert - men rule. I read the leaks.

How do you truly justify a woman who spent all her time trying to be the pale savior of slaves burning the innocent out of rage? Was Dany always supposed to end up ‘alone in the world’? Was she supposed to nut up after “hearing the bells”? Does this mean she’s always been a nut job? Are there instances I’ve missed with these bells? 

Does this mean all the Targaryens are destined to be mad? Does it mean Jon’s going to go a little mad too? Does this mean no matter what route Dany took, she was ‘fated’ to end up like her father? Does this mean despite trying hard not to be the thing, that her choices didn’t/don’t matter? She’s going to end up the villain anyway? Is this the trope we’re going for here?

And listen, no one wants Dany on the Iron Throne. By season 4, most of us were hoping she’d figure out how to fix Valyria or just stay in Meereen. No one is saying she should have had an easy path to the iron throne. It wouldn’t be Martin’s books if everything was easy. We’re just pointing out that this heel turn translated BADLY on screen and it made ALL females look like potentially bad rulers except Sansa. 

This whole thing with Dany pretty much said she/women aren’t headstrong enough to rule. That women are ruled by their emotions ( something we also got in a scene with Ellaria and Doran ) and  because of this + her apparent insecurity, she was ‘unfit to rule’ so her men turned against her. And that doing some of THE SAME SHIT A MAN WOULD HAVE DONE to the Tarley’s, she’s mad. That taking matters into her own hands AFTER HER HAND FAILED HER TWICE, is mad. Dragons gave her a tactical advantage in this ‘war’ and because a woman is flying on the back of one using him, IT’S JUST NOT RIGHT! IT’S INHUMANE! SHAME ON DANY!

The hypocrisy is unreal, but more than that we’ve seen Dany suffer losses. The whole “I will take what is mine with fire and blood” was because the people of Qarth were laughing and pitying her. She began the begger queen and found out first hand how Viserys felt as the begger king. I daresay that experience was humbling. Anyway of COURSE she felt some type of way. But a woman who takes the time to pull every slave from a pike from Yunkai to Meereen... who was insistent on keeping the fighting pits closed because of senseless violence and killing of slaves... who once lost her brother, son, and husband, had nothing all of a sudden becomes entitled and mad? The heel turn MAKES NO SENSE right now. Missandei is from a land of peaceful people. I also doubt Missandei’s words were meant to be taken as ‘burn everything’. If anything, Missandei probably felt sorry for Dany because she knew her queen wasn’t insane. And defended her in the crypts when her hand was letting people talk shit. 

My point is that If the show would have flushed this out some more and gave us something other than ‘temper tantrum, Jorah/Missandei’s death, Jon Snow being a dick to her’ and ‘bells’, most of us would be swallowing that hard pill right now. Breaking Bad is how you do a heel turn. Hell WWE has done better heel turns than D&D. A heel turn or a face turn only works/impacts the audience positively if there’s a slow burn tease to it. I realize they were probably tired of working on this fucking show but hey, you signed up for it. Don’t start something then half ass the ending cos you can’t be bothered. Anyway, as for that pill...

We’re not swallowing shit because none of it makes sense and so here’s where I’m deviating---because I can. Don’t like it? Find another Dany to bash.

Daenerys went to Westeros with Barristan and Jorah at her side. She never dismissed Ser Jorah despite Tyrion’s counsel because while Jorah did betray her, she also knew that because he loved her, he’d never betray her again.

Ser Barristan is the reason the Tarley’s never died. He advised her that despite their stubborn nature, they were good men that he fought alongside and were one of the top families in Westeros. The Tarleys were/are prisoners in Dragonstone until they see fit to support her claim. If they don’t, she’ll release them pending her war with Cersei.

Tyrion Lannister was dismissed as her hand after making two mistakes. Dany recognizes his counsel is a constant conflict of interest and thus names Jorah her hand with Barristan’s blessing as well.

Jon Snow pleads his case for the Dragon glass and after many a heated debate with those surrounding her, she allows Jon to mine the glass --- after he gets the proof she needs.

She still demands proof of the ice walkers and per the show, she ends up having to go help them. Don’t ask me to explain how Gendry got from point A to point B so quickly. I’m just keeping this for the show people. Plus teleportation is obviously a thing so there’s that too.

Viserion is lost/dead. Dany mourns him properly and after that whole ordeal, agrees to help Jon. In return, he supports her claim to the throne.

Much like the show, Dany is shitted on by the Northerners. She’s foreign and they don’t trust her, but you know what? Since she expected this and her two trusted knights are by her side, she don’t give a fuck. She’s there to play her part and will do so accordingly.

The Long Night plays out somewhat the way HBO detailed it. The Night King couldn’t die by dragon fire so she uses Drogon in the field to help her soldiers and everyone fighting on the ground. The Dothraki do NOT senselessly charge into the night. That was dumb as fuck and so some of them are actually at the Godswood helping Theon and Bran. Because I said so. Pretty sure if the Night King could sense Bran, most of his walkers are trying to get to him anyway. Many of the Dothraki die leaving Theon alone to defend Bran. This works for me because at least some of the Dothraki die in a manner that makes sense as opposed to just charging into battle against the dead.

When the war is over, Dany has injuries from the battle. Her hands are bruised from having to cling to Drogon so much. She’s got a few cuts and scrapes but she’ll live. Jorah dies. He dies here because it’s how he’s always wanted to go out. And it makes no sense for all the major players to live so I’ll follow HBO with that one. But Barristan is alive and is the new hand by default.

Seeing all the dead, Dany  still wants to defeat Cersei, but she takes into consideration the Iron Fleet, Rhaegal’s injuries, her own minor ones and the fact that her people are probably tired/drained. Even though Sansa still gives her the stank eye, she stays in Winterfell another few nights before departing back to Dragonstone leaving Jon behind. This trip back to dragonstone is so that she can rest her army and plan accordingly. Missandei was never kidnapped and killed. All that’s bullshit.

!! Other Important Notes ‼

1)--- I do not mention Jon’s claim to the iron throne because Sam never blurts it out if she never kills the Tarleys in the first place. I DO think Sam tells Jon AFTER the war and where it goes from there depends on interactions. 

2)--- I do think Dany would be upset if Jon told her about his claim. I think she’d feel like the thing she’s worked all her life for has been taken away. She probably rages to herself for a while BUT because Barristan is alive and Sam has been to the Citadel, she will have no choice but to listen. But this WILL be a hard pill for someone like her to swallow because now that the Night King is dead, what’s left for her if not the throne? She’ll be upset and probably depressed because that makes sense for someone who put all their eggs into one basket.

3)--- Even though Jon claims he doesn’t want it, based on how she was treated in Winterfell, she knows the people won’t be easy to sway. They’ll look to their precious King in the North so she’ll be faced with a decision. Do I stay here on my ancestral lands and just rule Dragonstone? Do I try to sway the people anyway? Do I go back to Essos? What she does from this point will always depend on interactions. If interactions with Jon Snow lead to him falling in love with her, I’d be willing to go that route from here. A marriage between the two makes sense. It’s not what people wanted. Too cookie cutter for them, but in my timeline, it makes sense.

If feelings never develop and Dany does decide to leave, Missandie and Greyworm are allowed to leave ( per show ). Missandei’s young in the books so I don’t think she’d actually leave her queen.

Also keep in mind, if we’re RPing with a book based blog, then obviously none of this shit ever happened. Daenerys is either in Meereen or in the Grasslands right now so things will be adjusted accordingly.

!! Even More Things to Consider !!

If Dany stays and rules at Dragonstone, this means she would have reached out to Cersei and possibly let her know she was no longer seeking the Iron Throne. There’s no way Cersei doesn’t know about Jon Snow’s lineage by now so she’ll know. But I see no reason why Cersei would have beef if Dany bows out. It’s not like Dany slept with Jaime or killed her children. I imagine if Dany agreed not to get involved ( aka side with the Starks, and she would NOT after how they treated her ) then Dany can chill at Dragonstone and possibly do her own thing. I mean it’s only fair if the North gets to rule themselves.

Now IF events play out where Dany gets to fight for the throne, fuck that bells shit. If Cersei surrenders, Dany accepts it. Aside from the usual casualties of war, no innocents are harmed. Women and children are probably prioritized. People are probably sent to make sure they’re okay. Because that’s how she does things. ( I’d also like to add that I’m willing to do a thing where Dany and Cersei align with one another because yep. )

In another scenario, Daenerys either goes back to Meereen and rules there until she dies. She’s hailed as the breaker of Chains possibly eliminating all forms of slavery in the years to come. I did want her to rebuild Valyria. I might throw that in there somehow once I work it out, but for now, this is how things will go. You have any of those options above to work with, but what we ain’t going to do is listen to HBO and GRRM until we get proper build for this. 

Again, if you don’t like it, there’s the door. But this is how I’m doing shit and that’s the tea. As always, if you have questions, concerns, or something seems off, talk to me POLITELY and we’ll work something out okay? Okay. Thank you.

[charlatron]

Attack & Release - A Dragon Age Story

I'm new here, so no making fun of me.

This was my first ever attempt at writing...so please be nice.

More Dragon Age fics can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlatron/pseuds/Charlatron

It had been an insufferably long day, the events of which had once again lead to an argument about the dangers of magic and, more specifically, those who wielded it. She cursed her own ludicrousness for even having asked Fenris to tag along in the first place.

Anders had begged for her help finding evidence of some Templar pricks so called plan to turn the entire circle tranquil. She had thought it was ridiculous, but Anders was her friend and was clearly distressed. Rather than refuse and let him go it alone, likely getting himself killed in the process, she agreed to assist. And knowing how dangerous going up against Templar's could be, she feared she would need her elven warrior friend.

After almost 3 years of friendship his attitude still perplexed her. He loudly voiced his disdain for magic at every given opportunity, yet he remained loyal to an apostate. He protected her in battle and even trusted her with his own life, yet he continually criticized her choices when it came to helping anyone gifted with magic, regardless of circumstance.

The mission had gone as well as could be expected. Admittedly, Anders going full blown Justice at the end somewhat clouded their success, but she had managed to rein him in before anything truly disastrous happened. They saved an innocent mage from Maker only knows what kind of depravity, and got rid of a few corrupt Templar's in the process. Why couldn't he see that what she was doing was a good thing? He was so bitter and twisted and the very thought of his near constant contemptuousness for mage's made her blood boil.

She stormed in to her rented room at The Hanged Man to retrieve the book she had been meaning to gift him. If she didn't do it now she never would, she wasn't sure how much more of his insulting crap she could take, plus she hoped the kind gesture would make him feel foolish for being so cruel. Unfortunately for her she hadn't realized he'd followed suit. She span around, book in hand, crashing in to him head first.

“Fuck!” She pinched her nose in response to the pain as he muttered various expletives in Tevine whilst rubbing his wounded chin.

She chastised herself internally as she tried to suppress that same arousal she felt each time she heard that gravelly voice speak in its mother tongue.

“What is it Fenris!?” She threw the book on to the bed, deciding the moment had definitely passed. “As much as I love our riveting debates, which by the way tend to leave me feeling just a little bit shitty about myself, I am really not in the mood right now”.

He stared at her in silence, an unfathomable expression on his face; which irked her tremendously. For all her skill she had never been able to read this man; the one person she so desperately desired to understand above all others.

“Seriously Fenris, you need to leave or I will not be held accountable for my actions.” She warned him with a sinister tone, the tiniest sparks of lightening escaping her finger tips.

She balled her hands in to fists at her sides, hoping he wouldn't notice her losing control, but it was too late. He began to glow a brilliant blue and she felt her window to the fade slam shut. The fucker had cut her off! She lifted a hand in front of her, examining her palm and the now distinct lack of electricity. A wave of hysteria threatened to overtake her as she tried desperately to conjure an element; fire, ice, anything, but to no avail.

She looked up in to his eyes, a pained expression on her face. When all she saw was the flicker of a smug smile, she lost what little control remained. She grabbed a throwing knife from the desk behind her, launching it directly at him. He moved just in time so that instead of piercing his chest it only grazed his upper arm. He still winced though, much to her delight.

She stood completely still, hypnotised by the glistening crimson slowly snaking its way down his arm, beading off his elbow and melodically dripping on to the floor. The cut was deep.

She felt a sudden surge of mana, which told her he had relinquished his hold on her connection to the fade, instantly restoring her sanity in the process. She had never intended to wound him, not really. In truth she knew she hadn't thrown the knife fast enough that he wouldn't be able to dodge it. Surely he knew that too, he knew how skilled she was.

“You're bleeding.” She pointed out, trying to break the tension as her temper calmed.

He continued to stare, silently brooding.

“Here let me heal y...” She lifted a hand to direct a torrent of healing energy towards him but he jumped out of the way as though she were launching a fire ball at him, loudly protesting.

“Andraste's cunt, Fenris!” She shouted in surprise before her expression settled to one of concern. She exhaled loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger, utterly offended. “Do you really think so little of me?”

She was sincerely hurt. She was used to him berating her at every opportunity but, honestly, she'd convinced herself it was all flirtatious banter. Right now she couldn't be less convinced. She turned away from him and pointed a finger towards the door.

“Just leave.” She said weakly, trying not to cry.

With two quick strides he was standing directly in front of her. He seized her by the arm with enough force that it would undoubtedly leave a bruise. He effortlessly tugged her towards him, forcing her in to an angry kiss. Even with his harsh handling of her, his lips were exquisitely soft and supple. His tongue forced it's way between her lips to assault her own, the recent shot of rum still blanketing his mouth with a delightful spice, and she was powerless to resist. He smelled of sandalwood and juniper and the heat radiated from him like a rage demon.

She abruptly regained her senses and attempted to push him away, unsuccessfully at first, but when she managed to slap a hand across his face he finally surrendered his hold on her. She took a few steps back to put some much needed distance between them, eying him incredulously while touching her lip where he had just bitten her.

She didn't know which urge was stronger; the one telling her to stab him in the neck or the one telling her to stop over-thinking things and fuck him already.

They seemed to read the intent in each others eyes and bounded towards each other, lips once again locking in a vehement embrace. She bit his lower lip until she tasted blood. He grabbed a handful of hair yanking her head backwards to expose the pale flesh of her neck, which he immediately set-upon with his teeth. He nibbled on her earlobe briefly before returning his mouth to her neck, roughly biting and sucking; clearly intent on leaving a mark.

She tried to push him away again, coming to her senses, but he refused to let go. She tried to pound on his chest but he held her so tightly against him that she didn't have enough space to gain any momentum. She tried to wriggle free but all that did was make her aware of the rock hard length pressing against her hip.

“Let go of me!” She spat, venomously.

He aggressively pushed her away, causing her to stumble before crashing in to the hard wall behind her.

“Why?” She demanded “You hate everything I stand for.” It was a question as much as a statement.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, as though the very sight of her repulsed him. “I try.” Was all he offered in response, through gritted teeth.

She looked at his face, trying to read his expression in the hopes that she could understand what the hell was happening. Was he so hard up that he was actually resorting to knocking boots with a mage of all people? This man was insanely beautiful, though equally irksome, and could undoubtedly convince any woman in this place to drop their knickers with nothing more than a glance in their direction. It was only then that she realized she had never actually seen him so much as look at another woman, in all the years they had been fighting together. Not once.

“Fuck it.” She eventually resolved, striding back towards him.

He ferociously returned her kiss and with all his strength ripped open the front of her robes in a violent display of dominance; they were completely ruined. She tugged at his trousers impatiently, just about managing to loosen the fastenings. He tore her small cloths clean off and pushed down his trousers just enough to free his now painfully aching erection. He forced her back against the wall, continuing to kiss her with a demonic intent and drawing her leg up to rest on his hip. She was positively dripping from arousal.

He grasped his shaft, ready to guide himself in to her, and with one fluid motion plunged in to her up to the hilt. She cried out in ecstasy as his enormous length filled and stretched her in the most satisfyingly sadistic way. He stayed completely still, savouring the feel of her while trying to steady his breathing. The lack of movement drove her wild with hunger. He began to withdraw, agonizingly slowly, then slammed back into her eliciting another embarrassingly loud moan.

His body was pressed so tightly against her own, yet it still wasn't close enough. She wanted to sink her fingers in to the flesh of his back, to feel the texture of his exposed muscle beneath her fingertips. She longed for their two bodies to meld in to one salacious beast.

Desperately needing to be deeper inside of her, he lifted the leg which resting against his hip higher still, hooking his elbow under her knee. Through brute strength he managed to do the same with the other leg so that he was completely supporting her weight.

This new angle of penetration was so exquisitely tender that she almost called out for him to stop. Biting down painfully on her own lip. She dug her fingernails in to the back of his neck with one hand, the other desperately clinging to his shoulder. She let out a primal moan with each withdrawal and intrusion.

He gripped on to the door frame to steady his hold on her, pinning her tightly between his own body and the cold wall. He breached her core over and over, harder each time. The obscene sound of slapping flesh reverberating off the walls.

Fearing an early end he urgently demanded she bite him to distract him from his fast approaching release, though this actually had the opposite effect. His ear being the closest thing to her mouth, she clamped down on the tip, causing him to pound in to her so hard that she was sure she'd be walking funny tomorrow.

As amazing as this was, she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to endure this delectable agony. She tightened her muscles around his shaft, causing him to growl like a wild animal. He stayed pressed deep inside of her while she ground her hips against him as well as she could manage in this precarious position, rubbing herself against his pubic bone and quickly bringing herself to climax.

As she began to cry out, her head lolling backwards, he pulled out almost completely only to dart back in to her roughly, drawing out her loud orgasm. She remained clenched around him as his thrusts became erratic and desperate, until finally he reached his own end. He held her in place as he spilled his essence in to her, panting into the side of her neck.

Just as she began to regain her faculties, he slowly released her one leg at a time, but stayed tightly pressed against her. She was glad for the support, as she wasn't entirely sure her knees would be able to hold her weight just yet.

Taking advantage of his now free hands, he lazily explored her body. He gently swept his hands over her bare back underneath her torn robe, now slick with a pleasant perspiration, before bringing them to rest on her round hips. She lightly caressed the tip of his exposed ear, sending an obvious shiver down his spine.

Their breathing was almost back to normal now and she became aware of him inhaling her scent, his now damp forehead leaning against the curve of her neck where it had remained throughout this encounter.

Finally he stepped back a fraction, hissing quietly as he freed his slowly softening member and revealed his bewitching emerald eyes. There was no hate there, no repulsion, no disgust. Only a look that mirrored her own: Who are you?

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her passionately, then pulled up his trousers and hastily exited the room, leaving her alone and confused in a ruined robe.

[crewhonk]

Papa Don’t Preach ii

Authors Note: I know i usually dont to these but you guys are the loves of my life! all 306 of you!!! MANY HUGS AND KISSES TO ALL. And see if yall can catch my Power Ranger references in this one!! :D

Words: 2,637

Summary: After a week of silence from Billy after the family dinner gone wrong, you confront him about it and talk it out like adults. He propses a crazy idea after a public fight with your dad, Chief Jim Hopper

Requested: HIGHLY REQUESTED GOD LOVE YOU ALL! If you want more, just lemme know!!!! 

Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

It had been an entire week since you had spoken to either Jim Hopper or Billy Hargrove. Jim had taken to grumbling around the cabin every night, and slamming doors and cracking a new beer every ten minutes. Eleven had been quiet, spending more time with the Party and up in your loft reading books and listening to you talk about your day at school and how Billy was. Eleven had developed quite the fascination with Billy, as they had similar experiences growing up. She and Max had spoken about him sparingly and without your friends true and undying support in your affections for Billy Hargrove, it had been nice growing closer to the younger girls who seemed to understand. You and Billy hadn’t been growing closer over the past week, however, and it had left you disgruntled (and almost offended) since you had been inseparable these past few months. It was a shock to your system not having him in your life as a constant, and it had been even more of a shock to you to have to ride in the backseat of Jonathan Byers car. The biggest shock, however, was watching Jonathan and Nancy interact with each other, and feeling nothing but resentment towards them for even the slightest actions (Nancy had brushed a piece of hair that was hanging in his face and you wanted to vomit, honestly) despite them being two of your closest friends.

So, here you were, staring at your locker at nothing but your thoughts and fiddling with the necklace Billy had given you one random day. He saw it on sale in some store downtown and when he had given it to you two weeks into your relationship he had mumbled something about ‘I don’t know. It reminded me of you— don’t make a big deal about it’. Since then you hadn’t taken it off- even when it left green marks around your neck, and even when the fake silver had made your chest break out in bumps. Your eyes flashed in sudden anger towards everything in your life, and your fist gripped your necklace before you slammed your locker door shut, calling the attention of a few passerby’s.

Including Carol and her gang.

“Trouble in paradise, Y/N?” She asked, smiling and brushing a piece of your hair over your shoulder and fiddling with your necklace.

“Last time I checked, it wasn’t any of your business.” You glared, and pushed past her. She grabbed your arm to spin you around and you ripped your arm out of her grasp.

“He’s beautiful in bed, Y/N, just in case you forgot.” Tina piped up from behind Carol, cackling before walking away. You shoved past Carol and Casey and wrapped your fist in her brown hair, pulling hard enough for Tina to spin and glare at you, raising her fist. Before she had a chance to hit you, you pulled your hand back and slapped her hard on the face.

“Did you just slap me?” She shrieked.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” You replied before shoving her back into the lockers behind her. She let out a high-pitched scream that you could barely hear because your pulse was racing in your ears and your rage blocked most of your senses. You drew back a fist before bringing it down hard on her face and splitting her lip with the ring you had stolen from Billy’s makeshift vanity.

“Dont— you— ever— speak— about him— that way!” You yelled, punctuating every syllable with a punch or a slap to the face. Before you could damage her face any more, you felt yourself being heaved over someone’s shoulder. “Let me go!” You screeched, hitting the denim-clad back that you were faced with.

You fought and wriggled until you were put down on the grass but the parking lot. You were face-to-face with the bare chest clad with a virgin mary pendant. You glared up into the blue eyes of your boyfriend and pushed past him.

“Y/N lets talk.” He said, grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, not letting your run from him. You spun in his arms and slammed your palms against his chest.

“No! You don’t get to want to talk to me after avoiding me for a week. You don’t get to!” You yelled while hitting him over and over. He took his hands and wrapped them around your wrists. “You’re a dickhead, and I deserve better than someone who ignores me after one shitty date with my dad. My dad is mad at me too, thanks for asking. He’s not even speaking to me and all he does is drink and grumble and everything is shit right now. So, no. You don’t get to talk to me.” You cried, tears flowing from your eyes and running down your face. He removed his hands from your wrists and brushed them over your cheeks, wiping away the blush you had applied on your cheeks that morning. You slid your hands around his waist and under his denim jacket and cried into his chest. You cried for Billy, and your love for him and you cried for him because your dad didn’t see what you did.

What you saw in Billy was a beautiful star of a man. You saw someone who was filled with repressed potential, and you saw someone who compensated for their home life at school. You saw someone who loves chocolate milkshakes and Krispy Kreme coffee. He loved when you cooked your favorite greek chicken and was genuinely so excited the first time you made it. You saw someone who portrayed themselves as a dog person but melted whenever they saw a cat or kitten on the street. You saw someone who wanted to be a social worker. Someone who wanted to fight for children who showed up to school with bruises, or to fight for the women and men who had to put on makeup to hide the dark circles under their eyes. You saw someone who wanted to save people but hid that desire to be respected in their school community. You saw someone who was beaten and abused and manipulated by toxic masculinity and broken families. You saw an inherently flawed man who was the love of your life.

“Come on, Princess. Let’s go somewhere else.” He whispered in your ear. You felt his lips brush against your ear, and the closeness made you shiver.

“What about Max?” You mumbled, rubbing your nose into his shirt, and continuing to rest your head against his chest.

“She has Nerd Club tonight.”

“Be nice.” You warned. He laughed and grabbed your cheeks, bringing your face to his and pecking your lips softly and pulling you to his Camaro. His arm was wrapped around the back of your neck and you held the hand that was resting on your shoulder, fingers intertwining together. He opened the door for you to climb into his car and you curled up in the seat. He got into the car, started it and turned down the music until it was nearly inaudible. The crooning voice of Steven Tyler reached your ears and you wiped your eyes, blinking rapidly. He pulled out of the parking lot and tore down Main Street ignoring cars that honked and anyone who cursed his driving.

“Where do you wanna go?” He asked, resting his hand high on your thigh. You rested your hand on top of his and played with his fingers.

“I don’t care.” You sighed. He grunted lightly and drove down to a nearby lakeside. You both got out and you walked around to the front of the car to watch the small waves crash against the rocky shore. There was a small dock launch, and algae collecting around the pillars that held the dock up. You felt a tiny weight on your shoulders and looked down to see that Billy had draped his extra leather jacket around your shoulders. You hummed in thanks as he joined you on the hood of his car. He offered you a cigarette and you took it silently and leaned into the flame from his Zippo lighter.

“You can’t do that to me, you know. You can’t just stop talking to me.” You exhaled the smoke from your lungs and coughed at the scratchiness is left in your throat.

“I’m causing issues in your home life, baby. I can’t do that to you.” He replied, his voice strong.

“You don’t get to decide that shit alone anymore, Bill. We’re in a relationship that I know neither of us plans on leaving, so we need to start working as a team. There’s no ‘I’ anymore.” You replied, kicking rocks with the tip of your white (not really white. they were once upon a time) converse shoe. The wind blew both of your hair in your faces and you could smell the seaweed and fish living in the lake. The clouds were rolling in, promising a storm and despite knowing this, both of you had no intention of leaving this spot.

“I know. I’m scared of how much I love you, though. I want to take you away from that cabin, and from that asshole cop and I want to take you home to California where we can sit like this in front of an ocean instead of this shit pond.”

“He’s my dad, Billy. I can’t leave him. Not again— you know this. And Eleven would tear me a new one if I left her. She likes you by the way.” You tried to convince yourself. Truthfully, you had never felt welcome at Hoppers cabin and the only thing that chained you here was Eleven. You could feel Billy’s gaze on the side of your face, but you didn’t turn to get his gaze and instead, taking a long drag from your cig.

“Who? Jane?” You nodded in response. “What’s her deal, by the way?” He asked.

“Legally, I can’t tell you much, but she comes from a pretty bad place and was abused in every way imaginable. They didn’t teach her anything, so mentally she’s behind for her age. She’s smarter and stronger than everyone I know, though.” He only hummed in recognition of your statement and rubbed his cold nose with his sleeve.

The two of you stayed on the hood of his car until the sky darkened and thunder began rumbling in the distance. He drove you home soon after the first rain fell, and you two sat in the car, talking about nothing and letting conversations come and go naturally, comfortable silences lasting between each one. He drove back into Hawkins and pulled into the Benny’s Diner parking lot and you both laughed and ran into the building, using his jackets to avoid getting soaked by the March rain.

Your laughter died quickly, however when you saw Jim standing at the counter waiting for food to take home to you and Elle. He sent a hard glare towards Billy, before settling his eyes on you and motioning for you to come closer. You told Billy to go and find a booth before walking over to your dad and leaning on the fake marble countertop. He tapped his pack of cigarettes three times on the counter before turning to finally look at you. You saw the eyes of a genuinely worried father staring back at you and you just looked down at your fingernails in shame.

“Where’ve you been, Kid?” His voice had an underlying command that made you look up to meet his eyes.

“Down by the lake. I had a bad day today, and Billy was there to help me out.” You replied, trying to ignore the way your voice sounded a little too full of emotion. You expected many things when you would finally confront Jim about your situation, but being on the verge of tears after a two sentence conversation wasn’t on the list of things you had thought about.

“Eleven was wondering where you were. She’s worried.” He looked away from you and you watched his thick brow bone furrow in a little bit of frustration.

“Okay, so you weren’t worried? Good to know.” You rapped your knuckles twice on the counter and turned to walk away towards your boyfriend who was watching you and your dad protectively.

“Y/N, you know that’s not how I meant it.” He said sharply. You turned around to look at him slowly and clenched and unclenched your fists together.

“How did you mean it then?” You challenged.

“I meant it in the way that I’m not going to be around forever, and you are all Eleven has after I leave. You’re her family.”

“So what am I? Chopped liver, Dad? I’m your actual daughter! Or did you miss that wave when it washed over you? I get that Elev- Jane is your favorite, but I’m your actual skin and bones and blood and you’ve been treating me like the gum on the bottom of your shoe.” You growled at him, pointing at his feet and glaring hard.

“Y/N! Would you just listen to me!” He yelled. You were suddenly grateful that you, Billy, Jim and the chef were the only other ones in the diner. “You are a new thing to me! After Sarah died, your mom refused to let me talk to you and then all of a sudden, ten years later she throws you on my front doorstep without one word of explanation, and you’re suddenly expecting me to be a good father? I need time to deal with this too!”

“How do you think I feel, Jim?! My own mother abandoned me and made me move three states and expected me to live with an alcoholic of a father! I didn’t even get a chance to understand what was going on before it actually happened!” You said, angrily wiping away tears that had leaked from the corners of your eyes. “I get that shit’s hard for you right now, but you’re not the only one in this story!”

With this, you spun and fled the diner, not knowing where to go but knowing you needed to get out of that diner because suddenly the walls were closing in and the temperature was too hot for you. You ran out into the rain and stopped as the cold of the evening hit you. You tilted your head to the sky and took in a deep breath of fresh air. You jumped and were immediately pushed into fight mode when someone grabbed your hand and intertwined their fingers with yours. The scent of cheap cologne and cigarettes stopped you, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“What do you expect me to say, Bill.” You whispered after a second. You were met by silence, and you let it draw out until you felt as if you were going to implode. You looked up at your boyfriend.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He mumbled, stepping closer and making you turn to face him. He cupped your jaw with one hand and gripped your hand tighter with the other. He leaned down and brushed his lips lightly over yours. You could sense his hesitation.

“What is it?” You asked, stepping closer until your chest was pressed flat against his.

“I’m gonna say something crazy, and you’re not allowed to freak out.”

“After the day I’ve had, anything would be hard pressed to phase me,” You said, kissing his nose softly.

“Let’s go to California. Just for a trip. I mean, spring break is coming up soon, and we wouldn’t miss much school time, and I mean I’ve always wanted to bring you home and when we were at the beach I just wanted to see you in the sun and playing in the sand in a sexy little swim number and I know it’s a little too much to ask, but I’d really like for you to—“

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

[legendslover]

Rule number one:        don’t fuck with librarians

Prompt: The three times Richie Tozier broke the rules, the one time he didn't. [Library AU]

Pairings: Reddie, Implied Stenbrough

Warnings: Swearing, Mostly Fluff, Soft Richie, Not As Germaphobic As Usual Eddie, No Mention Of Pennywise, Just Two Boys Flirting And Bickering, First Time Meeting

(Title coming from a quote!)

Aged Up Characters!

Richie Tozier was running late. So late. On his way back from Beverly Marsh’s place, where they had hung out as usual, chatting about music and life in general, he had suddenly remembered his original plans: joining Bill and Stan at the local library. He was so dead. If they knew that he had purposely ditched them for a girl, whoever she was, they would be so pissed. Richie, despite being the loudest person of the school, was probably also one of the smartest, which exasperated most of his classmates to no end. Fortunately, his friends had been used to his behavior since first grade and knew how to benefit from that cleverness instead of throwing a fit about it. Except they would exactly do that today if they thought Richie was letting them down, simply because he was too smart for them. Richie knew he was certainly overreacting but he had already witnessed Stan feeling this way multiple times. Even though they were used to his constant teasing, he didn’t want them to take it to heart. The least Richie wanted was to hurt his friends. They were the only ones forcing him to stay in town at this point. Unlike the others, he didn’t need to wait for college to leave Derry behind: surely because he didn’t plan on going anyway. Between his job at the drugstore and the music shop, he had cumulated a large enough amount of money to get his own car or a plane ticket to New York, Philly or Boston. As soon as his eighteen birthday would come, he was out of that hole.

His racing mind was disturbing his march along the sidewalk. Unaware of his current surroundings, he stumbled right before the library and shuffled through the large doors of the place, heading towards his friends. What he didn’t expect was to find himself colliding into a small and hard figure, a half dozen books tumbling to the floor in the process.

“Watch the fuck where you’re going, asshole!” hissed a strangely sweet voice.

Still staring at the books scattered against the carpet, a slow smirk progressively formed on Richie’s lips, not a tiniest bit intimidated by the boy’s tone.

“I could say the same about you.”

“There’s no running in the library!” The boy grunted, clearly becoming frustrated.

When Richie finally raised his eyes and fixed his glasses with his usual weird face scrunching, he was met with the first sight of Eddie Kaspbrak and what was certainly not going to be the last.

The second time Richie met Eddie Kaspbrak, new librarian’s son according to high school sources, he was going back to the library by himself. The night had been rough for several reasons, but mostly consisting of his dad beating the shit out of him. It was a chilly Friday night, which meant the last place where Richie could go was still open until nine. He ran his long fingers along his face, wincing when his hand came across his bruised –most certainly broken- nose. He wished nothing but to be at calm right now or he would explode of rage for certain. 

The saturated light hit his features as soon as he opened the doors of the library, letting a breeze of cold air rushing into the warm place. Behind the counter, a middle-aged woman (probably Eddie’s mother) was reading quietly, enjoying the last moments at work. Her lips instantly started to open once she had gotten a good look of Richie’s state but the comment that followed wasn’t hers.

“What the hell happened to you, Tozier?”

Richie, perplexed as to why the rather small teenager knew his name, didn’t let his shock come to the surface.

“How do you know my name?”

“We’re at the same school, duh.” Eddie shrugged nonchalantly, digging his feet into the ground. 

“You’re the new kid, how come you already know so much about me?” Richie teased, rather enjoying the blush that creeped up Eddie’s cheeks while his mother gave them a look, before heading at the back of the office.

“Stop thinking I’m a stalker, you idiot! It’s hard to go a day without hearing about you when teachers are constantly yelling your name in the halls!”

“I see you’ve been paying attention to me,” Richie playfully said.

“Oh c’mon, give me a fucking break! As if you hadn’t heard my name already, with the rumors that have been circling around me-“

“Wait, which rumors?” Richie interrupted, his air softening at the sudden dismayed look on the brown-haired boy’s face.

“Really? You don’t know about them? They- ugh, never mind.” Eddie looked at his feet defeatingly, clearly upset about something that Richie had no idea about. He felt bad for the kid: not only was it awful enough to move in fucking Derry but being treated like crap on his first days was the worst. Richie could definitely relate to this situation, despite having lived in this town most of his life. 

“Hey,” he suggested softly, “Wanna go read comics with me? As you’ve probably seen, I’m not having the time of my life right now, so I wouldn’t mind a little bit of company.”

Eddie gulped quietly, probably not expecting this. Richie’s heart tightened at this because he knew for a fact that Eddie Kaspbrack was probably the same loser as he was, rarely receiving kindness from most of people. 

As Eddie was rounding the counter to join him, Richie rummaged through his jeans pockets in search of the granola bar he barely had time to grab, before leaving his house. He startled as he heard Eddie’s screech behind him, when the other boy saw the bar in his hand.

“There’s no eating in the library!” 

Richie laughed wholeheartedly at the boy’s expression and they bantered back and forth playfully on the way to the bookshelves. 

When Eddie and Richie met for the third time, the situation was definitely not as comfortable as the previous one. As Richie barged in the library on a Saturday afternoon, one week after their second encounter, Eddie was perched on the library ladder, reorganizing books in alphabetical order on the top shelves. He was so small that he could barely reach the novels and had to stand on his tiptoes. Richie watched him for a little while, silently, as Eddie muttered to himself about god knew what. 

He realized as he gazed at the boy’s short fingers pulling out the books, that a sentiment he knew all too well, was spreading through his chest: affection. Pure affection as he stared fondly at Eddie being Eddie, organized, steady and perfect. He didn’t know how this feeling had emerged but he wasn’t going to try and tone it down, now that he finally had an idea of what happiness could taste like. 

All of a sudden, as if Eddie could have sensed someone staring at his back, turned around on the ladder and looked puzzled for a second, watching Richie back in the eyes. They remained in this position for a moment, before a child scream interrupted them and frightened Eddie on his ladder. 

Richie watched in horror as Eddie accidentally loosened his grip on the wood and slipped, letting the books crash to the ground at the same time. Richie didn’t have much time to react: he was by Eddie’s side in two steps as the latter’s scream immediately stopped when he realized he had hit someone’s arms instead of the floor. 

It took a little while for Richie to see that his friend was in fact not okay: his breaths were terribly fast and his face was paling by the second.

“Eds!” He yelled, concern all over his face and judging what to do. “Deep breaths, Eds, one at a time…” 

Richie knew he didn’t have the most soothing voice but he couldn’t bare watching Eddie getting worse while he lay there in his arms, trying to do the best he could at catching his breathe. 

“Oh my god, oh my god…” A sudden and familiar voice reached his ears. “What did you do to him? He has asthma!”

Miss Kaspbrak appeared at his side and nearly ripped her son away from his hands while Eddie was still desperately attempting to breathe. 

“Here, here…” She cooed while pushing what seemed like an inhaler between Eddie’s slightly purple lips. 

“Is he going to be okay? I mean-“

“Just go.” Miss Kasprak spit forcefully while checking her son for possible injuries. 

“What?”

Richie didn’t want to leave Eddie or be the cause of Miss Kasprak’s hatred while he wasn’t exactly the cause of Eddie’s incident. 

“I SAID GO!”

As Richie clumsily got to the doors, all shaken up by the situation, he couldn’t help but looked back one last time at Eddie’s figure lying on the floor, barely moving. He shivered, promising himself he would never approach Eddie again. Because he knew he would be able to stay away from him. At least, for now. But there was one thing he was sure he could never do: hurt Eddie Kaspbrak. 

Richie dragged his feet along the sidewalk as Bill and Stan were chatting animatedly ahead of him, seemingly having forgotten he was even here. Their hands kept brushing against each other’s and it didn’t look like they were going to stop anytime soon. Richie’s heart broke a little at the sight, subconsciously wishing that Eddie could be by his side. It had been two weeks since the librarian ladder incident. Despite being certain that Miss Kaspbrak disliked him for a whole another reason, he didn’t have the heart to face Eddie yet. 

But Bill being Bill and Stan being Stan, they could no longer study at home and refused to hear Richie complaining one more time. And Richie being Richie, he eventually decided to tag along because he could no longer stay at home as well, but for a whole different reason. He had covered his usual ruffled hair with a gray beanie, because the December cold weather was starting to hit his skin but mostly because he needed an excuse to hide as best as he could.   They entered the library as silently as possible and Richie headed right away towards the tables in the very back, where no one would come bothering him. Despite his cold and red cheeks, his hands were sweating with nervousness. He couldn’t fathom the feeling that was crawling up his spine and leaving him speechless. As he was scattering his sheets and textbooks across the table, a distinct thud of a heavy object clattering on the floor, quickly alarmed him. 

Right behind his chair was standing a rather sheepish Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie thought that the sight of his flushed cheeks was rapidly becoming his favorite thing. If multiple ideas to make Eddie blush came to mind, he kept a neutral façade, struggling to fight off the smile forming on his lips. He had promised to himself that he would behave and as upset as it was making him, that he would cut ties with Eddie whenever the situation presented itself. Turned out it had happened faster than he thought. 

“Listen-“

“Listen-“

They both awkwardly cringed. Richie hid his face in his sweater, bracing himself for the spiteful words. But they never came. All at once, before Richie could comprehend what was vaguely occurring, tiny hands found his face, dark eyes searched for his own and seconds later, smooth lips captured his, erasing every last rational thought. His heart went thundering in his ribcage. Edward fucking Kaspbrak was kissing him. His lips tasted just as Richie had imagined them: sweet, clean and incredibly soft. He was immensely aware of the noises they were originating but really couldn’t care less. Dragged to his feet by the front of his shirt, Richie had really no other choice but to follow the smaller teen between the shelves.

“B-but-… Isn’t there a “no kissing in the library” rule?” Richie smirked, clumsily grabbing Eddie’s waist between his shaking hands.  

Out of breath, the boy in concern gripped Richie’s tight curls under his beanie, pulling him towards his chest and ready to quiet him.

“I can make an exception for this time.”

Hope you enjoyed this little AU! If so, leave a kudo on this link (http://archiveofourown.org/works/12421947) and comment your thoughts here! That would truly make me the happiest since English isn’t my first language and any kind of constructive feedback would be appreciated!

[i-write-things-sometimes-x]

Lone Wolf (Stiles Stilinski x OC) Chapter 7- Aftermath

Masterlist | Next Chapter | Previous Chapter

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem OC (Riley Lowe)

Summary: Riley Lowe was torn from her quiet life in Jacksonville, Oregon to move to Beacon hills with a friend when a terrible tragedy tore through her family. Once a happy, loving girl, Riley had now became detached and cold, letting no body past the walls she had now built so high, until him.

(kind of AU where the pack can be normal teenagers/ Werewolves can get drunk)

Warnings: Strong language, Explicit Content

Word count: 1,983

I do not own the Teen Wolf Characters or story.

I do not own any of the Gifs used in my stories, I usually find them on Google and Pinterest and all credit goes to the creators

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The party ended in the small hours of the morning. Stiles had left with Scott and the rest sometime during my last song. While I stayed until the very last group of people left, making sure everyone got home safe, and making a start on the clean up. It had been a couple weeks since the party, and ever since, Stiles had seemed to avoid me like the plague. I had even sat with the group sometimes for lunch as Lydia had pretty much insisted, dragging me out of my peaceful little bubble. And even though I didn't talk much either, Stiles went out of his way to avoid meeting my eyes and barely spoke a word to me, which is far from the Stiles I had observed since I met him. A part of me was disappointed, but the other relieved. I could feel myself beginning to catch feelings for him other than simply finding him attractive, and that both slightly excited and terrified me.

I sighed softly, absentmindedly strumming a tune on the acoustic guitar in the music class that I had now as good as claimed as my own, this time choosing to sit on the floor. I began humming along with the song, until I heard footsteps approaching the room. "Stilinski, surprised to see you here" I say without looking up from my fingers that were expertly gliding from one chord to the next. "How-" He said exasperated. I lifted my head, raising an eyebrow at him. "Oh yeah, the werewolf thing- gotchya" He said before throwing his bag to the floor and lowering himself to sit opposite me, crossing his legs. My heartbeat beginning to quicken with how close he sat next to me. " Can I do something for you?" I say, half sarcastic, half genuinely interested in why he was all of a sudden not avoiding me. "Oh, uh-" he began, obviously becoming embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand which he seemed to do often. "I was wondering if it was okay to study in here with you, I genuinely don't know how much more third wheeling of Scott and Allison I can take. I mean they're cute and all but really, it's exhausting." I let out a chuckle "Damn, it must really be bad if you've resorted to talking to me" I smirk, it coming out more bitter than I intended. I watched as his face contorted with guilt. "Yeah about that- I'm sorry I just-" I stopped playing, and smiled. "I was just joking Stilinski, it's cool, just forget about it." In reality, there was nothing I wanted more than to re-live that kiss over and over until my lips were swollen and raw. However, I brushed it off, anxious that he may not feel the same way and that the kiss didn't actually mean anything. That he was just drunk and being a typical hormonal guy. He then forced a soft, awkward laugh. "Easier said then done" He muttered softly under his breath as I had continued to play, not catching his remark as I was back into my oblivious little bubble that I go into when I played, completely in my element. He then just sighed and listened contently, a smile playing on his face as he took out his study books and made a start.

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A few more weeks had passed and Stiles and I had spent every free period together like that since. It at first, started with the whole hour spent on the floor in a comfortable silence. Me in my bubble, completely engrossed in playing and singing, whilst unbeknown to me, Stiles spent most of the time laying down listening to me play intently, getting some studying done here and there, but usually too enamoured with my voice and watching my fingers glide effortlessly from chord to chord to get much done.  We also had the occasional discussion about comic books and movies, and I would sometimes help him out with anything he was stuck with as I had pretty much perfect grades. But as the weeks progressed, we had grown quite accustomed to being around one another, actually becoming quite good friends despite my constant efforts to distance myself, it had proved impossible with his incessant charm and adorable awkwardness.  We then progressed to talking for the whole hour whilst also doing our own thing, learning most of what was to know about each other. I learned about his mom, and how she got ill had passed away, how he loved star wars, and had a supernatural crime board in his bedroom, all of the things that he and Scott had been through, that his favourite takeout food was a burger and curly fries and how he dreamed of becoming an FBI agent one day. I however, had only told him small things up until now, like how my favourite food is basically anything Italian, the fact that I liked to draw sometimes in my spare time, the comics and movies that I loved that we both had in common and how I had a genuine fear of moths of all sizes to which he found hysterical. Until today.

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"So... the eyes?" Stiles said suddenly, looking up from his study book, which he lay next to on his stomach in front of me, breaking my concentration from playing. "do you have any theories about why they're purple? I mean, I've never seen anything like it and I have met many werewolves since I learned that you know- they actually existed." I let out a genuine laugh, to which Stiles met with a smile. Happy to see that I had started to lower the wall I had up around me.

Thinking about it, I then spoke, looking down at him from my seated position, guitar placed in my lap. "Well to be honest, I have no clue of the real reason why. I may have a theory but it's kind of stupid." I said averting my gaze in embarrassment. "Ri, it's me you're talking to", he said, a grin forming on his lips as he continued. "Nothing you say to me could possibly be any more embarrassing than a werewolf having a fear of moths." He said bursting out in laughter. The mere sound of that adorable fucking laugh causing those butterflies to yet again stir in stomach for the millionth time these past few weeks. "Ha, Ha, Ha" I said laced with sarcasm, playfully throwing my plectrum at him. He then feigned shock at the action that damn mischievous sparkle in his auburn eyes, a smile threatening to burst through his act. "Abuse" He said, a shit eating grin making it's way onto his face and I rolled my eyes. His grin then slowly faded from his face "No, but really, tell me" he said softly, encouraging me to continue. I sighed, debating on whether or not that I was ready to talk to someone other than Derek about what had happened.

"I tell you what, if you want, you can come over to my place tonight. I'll continue to help you study for the test tomorrow, and I'll tell you then." I said, knowing that there was no way that I wanted to delve into my past at school, not trusting myself to be able to hold myself  together. A look of pure shock was plastered on Stiles' face, eyes wide and mouth agape. "Y-you want me to come to your place?." I chuckled at him, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach that began to rage at the thought of Stiles and I actually hanging out outside of school for the first time, realising just what I had gotten myself into. "Yes, my place" I said with an amused grin. He then gulped then let out an exasperated chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, his favourite thing to when he was nervous. This fucking boy just continues to make me like him with how adorable and dorky he is. "Uh- y-yeah sure, um what time should I come over?" He said a bashful grin on his face. "Um, is 8 okay for you? I just gotta help Derek out with some things first." I say nonchalantly, pretending that the thought of him in my bedroom didn't cause my heart to pound against my chest. Again, a massive grin made it's way on his adorable face. The bell then rang loudly, alerting everyone that it was lunch break. "Well, I'll see you then Stilinksi." I said with a genuine smile, picking up my bag and leaving stiles still grinning in the music room to go and spend the lunch break reading in blissful solitude.  

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After school I had helped Derek with grocery shopping and helped with putting it away. Also helping him to clean the apartment a little as most of the small messes were mine. "Hey kid, I'm not going to be home tonight, do you think you'll be okay on your own?." Derek shouted to me from the kitchen. "Yeah I should be fine, where are you going?" I asked intrigued as although Derek is usually gone for most of the night, he never actually ever left me home alone overnight. He then enters the living room, a rare genuine smile on his face, well dressed in some nice black jeans and a dark dress shirt. And I gasped slightly. "Well, you know the extremely beautiful girl that helped you pick your outfit for the party that worked in that store?" "Yeah?" I chuckled, an amused smile playing on my lips. "Well.." He said leaning against the door frame. "I may or may not have a date with her tonight and if all goes well.." He trailed off with a smirk. "Oh god D, TMI" I said chuckling. He let out a loud and amused laugh. "What about you? you have any plans tonight little wolf?" he said, amusement in his tone while looking in the mirror, adjusting the collar on his dress shirt. "Not really... just studying, Oh!" I said remembering that I had forgotten to ask Derek's permission. "Is it cool that Stiles comes over? I'm helping him study for a test we have tomorrow, the poor boy is hopeless at math." I said laughing, my tone softening as I talked about him. Derek then spun around, a smirk on his face "Stiles?" Causing me to roll my eyes playfully. "Yes Stiles, is that okay?" I laughed. "Sure kiddo, just make sure to use protection, can't have the little wolf having any littler wolves" He burst into laughter and my entire face began to burn up in embarrassment "Ha, Ha" I said throwing a pillow at his face playfully, trying to conceal how mortified I was. "Hey, watch the hair" He said, turning to fix his slightly ruffled hair in the mirror, a smirk still playing on his lips, obviously amused with himself. He then walked over and kissed my forehead, smelling of expensive cologne. "I'll see you tomorrow kid, i'm just a call away if you need me, I've left you some money to get some food, and the spare key to lock up is on the kitchen table." He said offering me a fond smile. A warmness spread through my body, the feeling of being loved, and cared for. Something I hadn't felt in a long while. Derek truly was my family, my big brother, blood or not, and I am infinitely grateful to have him. He then smiled and left the apartment, the door slamming quietly, leaving me alone to my thoughts.

[every-jai]

Daddy, please don't die!

Hey my lovely readers! It’s here! My first Jack McLane fanfiction! This Idea came to me while hearing “one life, one love” by Chris de Burgh. this Story contains Smut, shitty one (yeah, i can’t write smut) but it’s there, so be warned! I want to thank @iammarylastar and @kenzieam for their constant Support and comforting words! You rock Girls! Enjoy!!

So this is how it felt to die. It wasn’t like you always heard about it. My life did not pass me like a movie, I wasn’t Floating over my Body, and no deceased relative of mine was waiting for me. Everything was just slowed down….like in a slow Motion. Dad is sitting beside me and presses something to my throat. Everything feels sticky and damp. He seems to talk to me, but I cant understand him. It doesn’t matter anyway; soon everything will be over. I just wished I could have seen (Y/N) one more time…. Everything is so heavy…… “Daddy!” what was that? Was it me? „Daddy!“ No, that doesn’t Sound like me at all! I try to look where the voice is coming from. There was a child! Weird, it seems to move much faster than everything else. It stretched a Hand out to me…"Daddy, please don’t die!” was the Little one talking to me? Was that……I’m trying to reach him, but suddenly, everything went black….Game over…..

—8 Month earlier— (Y/N) Point of view— „Jack, you got to be kidding, right?“ In front of me, my fiancé stood and rubbed his eyes in frustration. „Babe, please don’t do that to me! It’s hard enough!” „Then don’t leave me that long, especially now!“ I know I wasn’t fair and that this wasn’t his choice, but my hormones just took over. A few days ago we discovered that I was pregnant. He sighed and took a step towards me, laid his hands on my belly and caressed it softly with his thumbs. „I don’t want to go at all, but I can’t refuse” Tiredly I slumped down a chair. I looked up at the love of my life, he was right and deep down I knew it. We meet each other two years ago and fell head over heels instantly. He was working as an Armorer with the FBI, and I’m as a librarian at the local High School. We completed each other in every way, and we knew very fast that this was serious. And yet I was completely amazed when he proposed to me in front of all our friends at our favorit Bar last year. Jack was on the road from time to time because of his Job for two or three weeks mostly, but now it should be three months! I didn’t like that one bit. I shook my head. „I know hon, but really, what do you have to do in Germany? Didn’t they have an Armorer of their own?“ Jack smiled „they might, but not as good as your future husband!” My rage was almost gone, and I laid my head on his chest. „Just….just promise me to be careful…. and return as soon as possible!“

–Jacks Point of view— Gently I kissed (Y/N) on her head. I hate to lie to her. (Y/N) was the love of my life. We met each other at „Finnegan’s” thru friends. After our first date, I already know that she was „the one.“ (Y/N) was the complete opposite to me, calm, down to earth. Me instead, was always on my heels, nearly not be able to sit down for five fucking minutes. But thanks to her I changed for the better and settled down. She calmed me by her sheer presence. (Y/N) was my Anchor, there was nothing I desired more than coming home to her loving Arms after a Mission, to a have a normal life and to forget what I’ve seen on my Job. I was neither an armorer nor did I work for the FBI. To tell the truth, I am a spy. For about five years now I’m on duty with the CIA, specialized in foreign Operations. I also lied about my destination. My Mission led me to Russia, to save a shunt dissidents life. It wouldn’t be easy and pretty dangerous, that’s for sure, but that I couldn’t tell (Y/N), not in her current condition. The pregnancy was a surprise, but not an unwanted. (Y/N) was about to give me, what I unconsciously desired for a while now: My own Family! A Family with whom I could do all the things I’ve missed in my childhood. I wanted to be the perfect husband for (Y/N) and the best Dad for my kid. The Timing instead was a mess. This Mission was planned down to the minute for about three years now. I even learned Russian to blend in. When everything is done, I would retreat my Position and take a Job as a combat instructor so that I could build a robust life with my soon-to-be-wife and our child.

–4 months later—(Y/N) Point of view— „Congratulations Miss (Y/L/N), you will have a beautiful Baby Boy! Everything looks fine; he’s strong and healthy, nothing to worry about” Dr. Bell looked at me, smiling. I should be happy, joyful that my Baby is alright, but all I could think about was that Jack wasn’t here with me, with us. For more than 4 Month I hadn’t heard a single word from him. No call, no message, not even a letter. The first weeks I thought he was just busy, too caught up in his Job. But when eight weeks went past still without any sign of him, I started to worry. Maybe something happened? Maybe he was hurt! But why hasn’t anyone informed me yet?….I tried to shove away those thoughts and concentrate on our Baby, but it gets harder every single day. After 3 Month my Mother and my sister started to speculate, that Jack had run for the hills, that he just wasn’t ready for all these responsibilities and left. I refused profoundly to believe that. I knew Jack top to bottom; he wasn’t like that! In our whole relationship, he’d never given me any reason not to believe him. He always treated me like I was his entire world. When I’m told him about the pregnancy he was silent for about two minutes….. and then spoiled me to no end for the rest of the evening. For hours he laid his head beside my belly and whispered to „Buttons,“ how he nicknamed our offspring. No, Jack would never, never left me like that! in the 4th month without him my beliefs got a severe bump. I was on the brink of madness out of sorrow and finally decided to call the FBI. I know, I could have called earlier, but at first, I wouldn’t look like the Hormone-driven Pregnant woman, who couldn’t let loose of her fiancé for a few weeks. Then I told myself that I wouldn’t get any info at all because I wasn’t married to him yet. Now I was fed up; I just wanted to know what happened to the father of my child. Oh, how wrong I was! They were happy to give me the Information that they had never heard of a Jack McLane bevor. Not now nor ever bevor had someone with this Name worked for the Bureau. On my objection, that I would understand it, that they couldn’t give me any further Information, they only laughed and said that the Bureau had nothing to hide because they are not the CIA. I thanked them and closed the call. Are the last wonderful two years of my life just a big nasty lie? My brain started to run 1000 miles per hour. What did I know about Jack? He didn’t talk much about his past. He was from New Jersey, had a rough time as a Youngster, served a few years in the Army and should now work with the FBI! Much less I know about his Family. Jack had a sister named Ally, and his mother was a teacher at an elementary school. His father was a sour spot for him. He just said that this guy had no place in his life. Period! Sobbing I sunk down on the Couch. Suddenly everything breaks down on me. What should I do now? I’m sitting here, alone and pregnant. How should I handle all this, my work, the House! I have to sell the House; I cant hold it on my own. And the child! I have to raise the child alone. That’s not what I had in mind when I imagined my future life. I suddenly felt like I’m going to faint. My eyes wandered around the room aimlessly, bevor they landed on a book on the coffee table.

–the evening bevor Jacks departure—(Y/N) Point of view— I laid on my belly on the bed, read a book about pregnancy and Jack was in the shower. All of a sudden I felt two Hands crawling up my legs. A pair of lips joints them soon on their way up my Body. Lovingly Jack let his tongue flip over my neck. „Honey, did you know, that our Baby is almost 3 inch Long?” I was involved in that book. Jack just mumbled something and nuzzled his nose into my hair. I giggled „Hon, stop it! I’m trying to read here" He didn’t and reached for my earlobe. „And I’m trying to seduce you!“ I closed my eyes and rolled onto my back. Jack looked at me affectionately. „What?” I asked him irritated. „you’re glowing!“ „I’m..what?” he chuckled lowly „You know what they are saying about a pregnant woman, that they are glowing from the inside. Now I know what they are talking about! You are so fucking beautiful with it!“ I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissing him tenderly. „and I know something about pregnancy too!” he whispered and stroked my nose with his. „Yes?“ I grinned, and he nodded „what is it?” „I know that sex is perfect for the mommy-to-be!“ He pulled me to him and kissed me back. I moaned and let his Tongue slip into my mouth. His hands caressed down my sides ever so slightly, and slowly his mouth followed them. Jack stopped at my belly and nuzzled into it "I love you Buttons. Take care of Mummy for me ok?” he whispered and continued to kiss me further down. I sucked in a breath when he reached the hem of my shorts and softly shoved them down my legs. I let my knees fell to my side. A loud moan escaped my mouth when he carefully lapped over my already wet folds. Jack hummed in pleasure about my reaction, while it sends a shiver down my spine and I arched my back. Impatient I reached for him, but he smiled and shook his head “No Babe, I’m not done yet, ‘cause tonight is all about you!” He started to nibble lightly on my nub, and my eyes rolled back. Jack added a finger to his sweet torture. My breath became ragged, and my hips buck up unintentionally. “Patience, Babe!” he growled lowly, clearly aroused and blew over my clit. Jack crocked his finger while pumping faster now and instantly hit my G-spot. I grabbed his hair and screamed his name. He hovered over me and kissed me passionately. His hard shaft dipped on my core. “you’re so wet for me, love. So wet and hot, just for me!” with one slow stroke Jack entered me. After a few seconds I needed to adjust to him, he started to thrust softly. I clawed into his Shoulders and accommodated him with my thrusts. Jack slipped his Hands under my upper back and scooped me up with him. He sat back on his heels. I rolled my Hips end enjoyed the friction it caused on my clit. “Babe, you’re so tight, I can feel you all around me!” he breathed hoarsely and bit lustily on my shoulder. I threw my head back “Jack, please! I’m so close!” he laid back and made me straddle him. I lift myself up till he nearly slipped out of me. Then I let myself down real slow, so I can feel every inch of him. He twitched inside me, and his Fingers dig into my hips. “(Y/N)!” My name escaped his Lips nearly breathless. After a few more snaps with my hips, he flipped us again. Jack looked me deep in the Eyes, and his were blown with pure love. He repeated my name over and over again, while his thrusts became erratic and sloppy. His Hands reached down between us, and he started to rub my clit. One last flinch to it, and I am thrown over the Edge. Jack followed instantly. As we laid in Bed later, both blissfully satisfied, he drew me into his arms. I was already on the brink of sleep when I heard my fiancé whisper. “I love you (Y/N), please never forget that! I Love you more than you will ever know, always!”

–present—(Y/N)’s point of view— Tears filled my eyes when I remembered our last night. Damn it! I couldn’t be that wrong with him! I had seen it in his eyes, in his deeds! Jack loved me, and he loved our baby! No, there had to be another explanation. Maybe he was injured, kidnapped or….. I threw my hands over my face; I don’t know how to do all of this. Even “Buttons” seems to feel my stress because he started to flip around in my womb. Lovingly I stroked my protruding belly. “I know, little one, I know, I missing daddy too!” I deeply breathed and dried my tears. I had to do something! Just to sit around and feel pity for me wouldn’t help anyone! As if he would prove me right, “Buttons” kicked my kidneys hard. I coughed. “ok ok, we will find Daddy, I promise!….even it is just for child support!” I grumbled and held onto my side. In the next few days, I got my life back on track. I started to prepare the nursery, get everything in order at work for my leave….and began to search for Jacks family. That was much harder than I thought. The only thing I know about Jack was that he was born in New Jersey and his mother was a teacher. But Jersey isn’t that small, and there are a lot of people who names are McLane. There are 2534 Public Schools in this State and a few hundred private one; it felt like to find the needle in the Haystack! After two Month intense Search, a lot of Phone calls, some rejection and a few helpful people I finally found her: Diane McLane, Teacher at the Hubbard Middle School in Plainfield, New Jersey. Now that I had a proper Name, it was easy to find her Number and Address, So the only thing I had to do now, was calling her. This was an emergency. I was at a dead end and would have done everything to find him. Maybe he had called them, or they knew where I could search. Now I sat on my couch and stared at my phone for 10 Minutes. I had to! With shaking hands, I finally dialed the number in front of me. I took a while till someone answered. “Hello?” a dark voice asked on the other end of the line. I swallowed. “Is this the Address of Diane McLane from Hubbard Middle School?” “Who wants to know this” the other voice was cold as ice. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to talk about your son Jack” There were a few seconds of silence on the other Side, then a sigh. “Is he dead?” I was shocked how final the man on the other end sounded. “No! No…I mean I hope not…Jack went missing 6 Month ago. I thought he might have called you” Now I could hear how defeated he was “Lady, we haven’t heard from Jack for more than three years now. I’m sorry if he had betrayed or robbed you, but…” I stopped him “No Sir, he didn’t anything like that to me” Now I started to understand, why he didn’t like them. “Sir, I’m his Fiancé…….”

[duke-nitro]

Craydl’s Caper (mercury falling au)

After the events of this post, Bart and Thad move in with the Garricks (but they go back to Manchester for the summer). Thad gives Craydl free reign over himself, partially because he doesn’t want Craydl around to stop him from working himself to the bone trying to find Rival and partially because he feels bad that Craydl is always locked up in tiny spaces. Craydl surprisingly agrees, says he’s “Going to party all around the world” and (after goodbyes of course) puts on his Alan Moore-looking disguise then walks out the door, grinning, with one thought in his head, one of pure malice: “I’m gonna kill The Rival”

(the rest is under the read more because this is gonna be a doozy)

With no leads online, on the news or even in police reports Craydl decides there’s only one way to find him: word of mouth. So he starts hitchhiking across the country, always asking if they’ve heard of any strange murders or deaths. Unsurprisingly, as he looks like if you fused Rasputin and Charles Manson and that fusion had lived the gutter for months, he gets arrested. Multiple times. After breaking out of jail for the seventh time he decides he needs someone to vouch that he’s not a drifter-killer. Luckily, the city he’s in has a superhero! Who is a speedster! And a detective?! Craydl thinks he’s hit jackpot so he tries to get in contact with him, to tell him that “he’s the only one that can help stop a superpowered serial killer!” But when they finally meet Craydl is... more than a bit disappointed.

Meet Zippo! He does indeed go fast, but he maxes out at 65mph. And he needs smooth surfaces to reach that speed. He can use that speed to go up ramps and grind on rails, that’s something! Oh, and he’s described as a “moderately good detective.” For the purposes of this story he’s a hero who showed up after Keystone and Golden Age Flash were wiped from everybody’s minds. He instantly became the media’s darling, doing constant interviews, book deals and sponsorships. But when Barry Allen became The Flash,, everything dried up for him. He is now an embittered 50-something, still trying to reclaim his past glory. Catching a serial killer is an instant fortune, let alone a superpowered one!

Although Zippo fails to impress, he meets all of Craydl’s qualifications (which is to say, can bail him out of jail and has an ID) and so he joins Craydl’s quest. To pay for motels they start calling themselves “traveling detectives” and solve superpower-related crimes for money. On the radio news they start hearing strange reports of large piles of dust that scientists say contains human DNA, but they leave that kinda stuff to the Justice League.

After helping to stop a Samuroid invasion they interrogate the man controlling them as he clearly isn’t the one who made them, and he says a man with purple electricity coming off him sold them to him.  Finally, a lead! They demand to know where he is but the man never saw his face, but he does know someone else who bought from him. The reports are starting to get more frequent and a bit annoying. When’s the League gonna deal with that, anyway?

The city their lead is in has, among other things, the strangely named “Nob Nose Mountain” and a section of it the city called “the City of Rackets” which is where they plan to look for their lead. Around town they keep hearing about someone called “Speed” has been seen around the mountain and Craydl, as Zippo tries to sell headshots and signatures, decides that maybe “Speed is... y’know, a speedster”  and goes to find him. They are surprised that “Nob Nose Mountain” isn’t a joke from the map company but before they can check it out, they are attacked and dragged into a van. Zippo goes down like a sack of bricks but Craydl just rolls with it thinking it will get them closer to their lead.

When the sacks are removed from their heads, they see their captor: That most Awful of Avians, The Buzzard! It takes Craydl a long time to find a single file that mentions him. They’re in your standard laser deathtrap so Craydl tries to squeeze out but he finds that he just... can’t. Moments before Zippo gets a lobotomy, the steel door flies off it’s hinges! They look up and see... a centaur. The Buzzard screeches in rage saying, “Damn you, Speed! You can’t stop me this time!” Craydl would gladly take being hit with a death laser over this. Speed makes quick work of the thugs and releases the two. He introduces himself.

Meet Speed Centaur! Very strong and very smart, but he’s not a speedster. He can go as fast as, well, a horse. Hailing from the Arctic Circle, he is the last of his kind sworn to fight all the evils of the world but has outlived his best friend and mentor, Jerry “Reel” McCoy and went into solitude on his mountain to mourn. Has a hyper-realistic horse mask that he can somehow fit his whole torso in and not look weird. He was alerted by Craydl and Zippo’s plight and came to help. Has no sense of humor and talks like he’s from a Golden Age comic.

While Speed and Zippo capture The Buzzard, Craydl investigates the machinery because they could somehow stop him from transforming. It’s very advanced tech, far too advanced for a no-name crook like The Buzzard. So they ask him where he got it and gives them the same two things as the Samuroid man: Man crackling with purple energy and another person who bought from him’s name.

Speed is confused so they explain what’s going on and he immediately implores that they let him come along. “When fighting Rival,” Craydl thinks, “you need as many distractions as possible.” And so, as the trio heads out they see yet another report on the dust piles. Craydl reminds himself to send the League a message about it later. But first, he has to do his weekly call to Thad to see how he’s doing. A bit better than last week but not by much.

They travel from place to place, lead to lead, from Mister Camera to The Fisherman,  all with technology far too advanced and far too expensive for them to afford. Eventually, they’re pointed in Tar Pit’s direction. But he’s not in his hideout and no one has seen him in a while. However, the trip to Central wasn’t uneventful as Chillblaine (The Third) is robbing a bank with his brand-new freeze gun, one far too expensive for someone like him, so powerful it shoots sparks out of the sides when the trigger is pulled. They fight Chillblaine to a standstill so he uses the gun’s secret power: encasing yourself in a ice golem. It still doesn’t take long. Speed picks him up and throws him at Craydl, who turns into a giant mallet, crushing the golem. Chillblaine jumps out  of the rubble looking much more dehydrated than a man who was just in a block of ice has any right to be. He cranks it to max, pulls the trigger, sparks fly and... he crumbles to dust. Oh.

Zippo searches the dust, hoping Chillblaine’s wallet survived. It didn’t but something did: a business card for Bulls-Eye The Clown‘s discount weaponry. Craydl reviews the footage of the machines everybody they’ve fought had used and they all had one thing in common: they all let off sparks when used.  The card says Bulls-Eye is in Florida and, hoping this is breakthrough they’ve been looking for, decide to pay a little visit to Bulls-Eye.

One awkward hitchhike from a semi driven by a woman with white hair bigger than her head and her mom later, (with Speed in his horse disguise running alongside) they arrive to their destination.  Which turns out to be one of a nationwide electronic store chain with the company’s mascot, a clown, as a 20ft tall statue marking the store. Zippo changes into his civvies (he only has two sets of clothes and one of them is the Zippo outfit) and they enter, (Speed stays outside, of course) greeted by a pimply-faced teen greets them to “Bulls-Eye Electronics”.

After loitering around long enough for the teen to threaten to call the cops, Zippo hands him the card and says “We’d like to see your manager” with a lot of nudges and winks. The teen winks back and pushes a button, opening a secret door with a long staircase. At the bottom they find what is almost a maze of guns, vehicles and robots. And in the middle of all this is a checkout station managed by a very bored looking man, who greets them in the most drab, dreary and disinterested voice imaginable saying “Hey kids, it’s me Bulls-Eye. Would you like a balloon animal? Or perhaps It’s your birthday and you want ol’ Bulls-Eye to do a jig for you?” and then he starts what looks like he’s trying  to dance but he’s just shuffling and mumbling under his breath. There is no music. Craydl is getting impatient and starts asking questions like, “Why do you sell weaponry that disintegrates the people that use it” and ”Do you work for anybody’, but instead of answering Bulls-Eye just starts dancing more and singing louder with every question until he’s screaming and dancing so hard it looks like he’s going to break his own bones. Suddenly, he does a backfilps repeatedly until he reaches the emergency button, which he punches. Hard. All of a sudden everything in the room starts to spark and move. Then there’s a rumbling above ground.

Speed looks up to see the giant clown start to move, but before he can do anything, he’s knocked unconscious from a blow from behind.  The clown rips the store’s roof off and it starts striking the ground.

After fighting the living machinery for about three minutes, (Bulls-Eye isn’t touching any of it though, all he has to do is point) part of the roof caves in. Once the dust clears they look up and see that the mascot has joined the fray. Bulls-Eye climbs inside it and, now sounding like a lot like Snagglepuss, yells “If I kill you my boss will give me raise for sure!”  but once he starts joking, he never stops. After getting thrown around for a while, Craydl roots himself in the ground and opens hundreds of eyes everywhere on him to see if there’s any way to win this. He thinks he’s found one; The only thing not sparking in the room is the mascot. Craydl yells at Zippo to start cutting wires, which he barely hears over Bulls-Eye’s jokes and Bulls-Eye doesn’t hear it at all.

Zippo thanks god he has rubber gloves and starts cutting and Craydl starts heckling to distract Bulls-Eye. After  a good chunk of wires are cut, Craydl launches himself in the air, only leaving a small back box behind. He spears the mascot’s camera eye then, still sticking in the eye, stretches and connects to every exposed wire. When asked later, Zippo compared it to a real-life Quickening. Craydl is fried to a crisp and all the machines are broken but Bulls-Eye is still hanging on. It raises a fist to crush Zippo but as it’s fist lowers the mascot is suddenly slammed into the ground. Bulls-Eye climbs out to see what happened but finds himself face to face with the backside of a horse. He is promptly launched across the room.

Zippo staggers to his feet and walks over to Speed, but before they can do a victory high-five they are flung across the room like ragdolls. Once they land they look at their attacker: The cashier from upstairs, pimply-faced as ever, except now he has purple lightning shooting off him. Zippo and Speed realize that they never had a plan for if they found Rival.

Rival, picking up the black box he presumes is Craydl’s core, starts describing his plan, because it’s not enough to win, they have to know what their failure means so they can die in despair.

Rival explains he’s like an energy vampire, jumping from one body to the next, just to stay in this dimension. And when they’re completely drained they crumble into dust. This sucks for him, so he does some research and finds out about a certain something that will make him invincible and everlasting. (He doesn’t say what it is, just in case) However, he can’t look for the something while he has to keep swapping bodies. So he comes to Bulls-Eye with a proposal: Put these devices that saps the energy of those who use them in every one out of a thousand products, and I will give you a continent. The weapons that drain far more quickly were Bulls-Eye’s idea.

Speed and Zippo try to get up, but they’re way too wounded to. Rival, laughing at the sight, decides he’s had his fun and crushes the core in his hand. The effect is immediate.

Rival feels like he’s being torn to shreds, mostly because he is. Huge shockwaves smoosh Zippo and Speed into the wall and they can’t open their eyes because it’s so bright. They can hear The Rival screaming and it sounds like there’s a hurricane in the room with them. Once they can open their eyes they see that the only thing left of Rival is a scorch mark on the ground.

They stand up, using the wall as leverage and a green portal pops into existence next to them. With nothing else to lose, they enter. They find themselves in a laboratory with a familiar voice on the speaker saying “Sorry guys, I wouldn’t of done that if I’d known Rival was there.” Speed understands but Zippo is pissed that they could have teleported instead of hitchhiking. Craydl explains that he left the box not because it was his core, but because it was a weapon he had designed to kill Rival and he didn’t want the shock to set it off.

With their task complete they part ways, promising to stay in touch if the others need any help.

Speed Centaur returns home, feeling much better about himself after saving the world, goes back to protecting his city.

Zippo gets his book deal and goes on a talk show circuit to promote it. It sells moderately well.

Bulls-Eye gets four dozen consecutive life sentences, no parole.

Craydl spends a day or two editing the footage of Rival’s death, just so he can prove to Bart and Thad that Max has been avenged.

The Rival wakes up in an strange wasteland. A man in a magenta robe offers him a deal.

He accepts.

(GodDAMN that took forever to write)

(I only know about Speed Centaur and Zippo because of the book “The League of Regrettable Superheroes”. It’s really good.)

[twilighteve-writes]

Under the Roof of Marlinspike Hall

Summary: “He supposed he had always known, but amidst the adventures they had, it slipped his mind. Now, though, the fact that Tintin was so very young rammed into him viciously. How old was he, exactly? He couldn’t be older than twenty.” In which Haddock somehow became Tintin’s caretaker before he even realized it.

Something I wrote in order to get in the mood of writing a multichapter Tintin fic. Been a while since I read the comics and watched the movie, so I hope nobody is OOC.

You can also read it in FF.net or AO3.

Long post, read under the cut!

When the captain walked into the room, he was greeted by a sight he never thought he’d see. Well, he’d seen it before, but never in this setting, and never so blatant.

Tintin was asleep.

That by itself wasn’t that much of a deal, Haddock supposed. Perhaps it was how he was sprawled over the three-seat sofa on his side, with blanket covering the lower half of his body. He held a book close to his chest, almost hugging, and his other hand was buried in Snowy’s fur, who snoozed at the sofa’s feet. Molly the cat had found a spot on Tintin’s hip, somehow managing to get comfortable enough to sleep on such a place. There was a cup of cooling tea and a plate of biscuits on the coffee table.

Haddock blinked, once, twice, before he walked ahead and scratched Molly’s ear. The cat was roused immediately and glared at him accusingly. With an apologetic smile, Haddock lifted the cat and held her gingerly in one hand as he pulled the blanket with his free hand to cover Tintin properly. The young reporter gave a sigh and curled into a tighter coil, though he seemed more comfortable. Haddock put Molly down again, and the Siamese immediately snuggled into Tintin’s stomach, curling and yawning.

Haddock smiled at the sight. It wasn’t every day he could see Molly and Snowy side by side without snapping at each other, but if anyone was able to make sure of that, it was Tintin.

He studied the reporter’s face; explored the brows, the lashes, the nose, the cheekbones, the lips. It struck him, how young Tintin looked. He supposed he had always known, ever since Tintin rolled into his cabin from outside of his ship (he still found it to be overly reckless), but amidst the adventures they had – the whizzing bullets, the ridiculously difficult contours of the land, the absurd amount of harsh hits to the head meant to knock them unconscious – it slipped his mind, he supposed. Now, though, in a safe environment of Marlinspike Hall, surrounded by domesticated pets, warm drink and treats, and rows of books, the fact that Tintin was young, so very young, rammed into Haddock viciously.

Haddock was disturbed to realize he didn’t even know Tintin’s age. How old was the boy, exactly? He couldn’t be older than twenty. And yet there he was, walking around like a giant shooting target for free practice, all painted and waiting for the bullseye. His drive to dig up mysteries and uncover the truth was commendable, but it put him in constant danger. Even in a supposedly safe environment, he seemed to curl into himself, alone and wary. Did he even have anyone he trusted to keep him safe? Had he been alone for a long time? Was he even eating right?

Haddock lowered himself to the sofa opposite of Tintin’s, still etching the youth’s face into his memory, studying every part of it. It made him wonder about Tintin’s past, his childhood and such. Surely the lad didn’t just pop out into the world already the boy wonder he was now?

Tintin probably wouldn’t tell, though. He kept the information about his past tightly under wraps.

The old sea captain fell asleep like that, drowned by thoughts of his young companion and practical savior.

When Tintin was ready to leave Marlinspike Hall later that week, Haddock stared at the suitcases the young reporter had with him and came to a snap decision.

“Why don’t you just move in here, lad?”

Tintin stumbled at that, nearly falling if he hadn’t grabbed the handrail of the stairs to regain his balance. “Pardon?” he squeaked.

Haddock shrugged, trying to look nonchalant about it and hoping he didn’t fail too horribly. “Well, you’ve spent more time in here than your own apartment, and Mrs. Finch has started to send your mails here. Why bother going back and forth? Not to mention your apartment’s not that well-taken care of, anyway.” Haddock lifted a finger when Tintin opened his mouth to protest. “No, Tintin, don’t argue. I’ve seen your stash of food. How do you survive off those? I’ve been in the sea for months at a time and I always eat better than you!”

Tintin grimaced. “My apartment’s closer to my office, though.”

Haddock rolled his eyes. “The office that you barely even go to? You work home practically all the time, lad. The only reason you want to hold onto that flat of yours is because it gives you more time to procrastinate on your articles because you need to mail it in time otherwise.”

Tintin’s face burned spectacularly. “That’s not… um.”

Haddock grinned, knowing he had hit the nail at the head. He reached into his pocket and fished a key, dangling it to Tintin. “Go on, lad. Just take it. I know you need to think about it, but you’re always welcome in here.”

The reported stepped back, looking nervous all of a sudden. “Captain, that’s awfully nice of you, but I can’t…”

“Bollocks! Of course you can!” Haddock took Tintin’s hand and forced the key into his hand, burying it in Tintin’s slender fingers. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, Tintin. This mansion is as much yours as it is mine. You will always be welcome here.”

Tintin gave him a look that made Haddock want to smother the boy in hugs, but instead he smiled, patted him on the back, and stepped away. He waved goodbye as the reported walked out of the grounds until he was out of sight, then he turned to walk back into the mansion.

“Nestor!” he bellowed. “Do we have another copy of the key to the house? I gave mine to Tintin!”

A couple of suitcases hit the floor of Marlinspike Hall with satisfying thuds, and Haddock grinned. “Is that all of them?”

Tintin matched his grin. “As a matter of fact, yes, it is.”

“Well, what are we waiting for, then?” Haddock picked both suitcases and handed Tintin one of them. “Let’s get these into your room.”

Tintin chuckled, but took the suitcase and followed the enthusiastic captain to the room given to him. Snowy yipped happily at his heel before walking off on his own, undoubtedly trying to get into the kitchen. Tintin called him warningly and the dog whined, but followed him.

“I read your article last week,” Haddock began casually. “Quite interesting, I must say. You never told me there was a gangster living in my old apartment.”

Tintin shrugged. “I’ve only realized about two weeks ago.”

“You didn’t think to tell me?”

“I considered writing a letter or giving you a call, but I sort of got kidnapped.”

Haddock dropped the suitcase he held. “Blistering barnacles! You got kidnapped?”

Tintin shifted uneasily. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened – “

Haddock’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And how many times have this happened?”

“Um.” Tintin’s eyes darted around. “A lot?”

“Thundering typhoons!” Haddock threw his arms up. “You need to keep yourself safe, lad!”

“I know, I know, I’m trying,” Tintin assured. “Sometimes, things just happen. I’ll try not to get abducted again; it’s not fun for me either.”

Haddock huffed. “Did you get hurt?”

Tintin pursed his lips. “Not much.” He remembered how a bullet almost hit him in the head. The captain didn’t need to know, he was worked out enough as it was.

The captain sighed and shook his head, bending down to pick up the suitcase. “You need someone to keep you safe, lad. A lady friend, maybe.”

The reporter snorted. “You’re one to talk, Captain. How’s Madame Castafiore doing these days?”

Haddock wrinkled his nose and let out an ugly, indignant noise. Tintin laughed.

He was awoken by a loud sound that he couldn’t identify immediately. He was instantly on alert even though his mind was still clouded with sleep.

Glass breaking, his mind finally supplied. That was what the sound was. Glass breaking.

Someone broke into his house.

“Not on my watch,” Haddock growled. He’s had someone taking over his ship and he swore that it wouldn’t happen again. To have someone breaking into his house was just plain insulting.

The captain squinted, casting his gaze about the room, looking for a weapon he could use. A rifle leaned to the wall, and Haddock snatched it. It was perfect for whacking people on the head. Plus, it was unloaded, so he didn’t have to worry about shooting Tintin or Nestor by accident.

Haddock tiptoed around the corridor, relying on muscle memory to guide him across the darkened house. Outside, a storm raged on. He cursed it in his head with his less innocent choice of words. The noise from the rain wouldn’t help him locate whatever had broken in through sound.

Loud thuds, more glass breaking, and a scream sent him rushing to Tintin’s room, where the noises originated. He tightened his grip on the rifle and burst into the room.

He caught sight of two silhouettes on the ground, rolling and grunting as they fought one another, Snowy a clearer figure to the far left, growling and barking. After a moment, the dog shot forward and bit the top figure in the arm.

That was all Haddock needed. He swung the rifle and hit the figure on the head, and crumbled away immediately.

The room lit up all of a sudden, and Haddock, still too wired, whirled and pointed the muzzle of the rifle to the door, remembering a second too late that it was empty. He came face to face with Nestor, who had his hands up. Haddock sighed and pulled the rifle away. “Call the police, Nestor,” he told the butler tiredly as he put the rifle on the floor and kicked it away.

“Right away, Sir,” Nestor nodded and immediately turned and exited the room.

Haddock bent and dragged the trespasser away from Tintin, far enough so the boy would be safe, but close enough to immediately act if the man suddenly regained consciousness. “Snowy, guard this unevolved pithecanthropus for me, will you?”

Snowy glared at him for a moment before reluctantly leaving Tintin’s side. Once the dog sat in front of the trespasser with a murderous look in its eyes, Haddock nodded in satisfaction. He could leave that one to Snowy.

He knelt next to Tintin, who curled on his side and hadn’t moved since the captain dragged the trespasser from his previous position. “Tintin,” he called the reporter, pulled him and propping the boy on his arm. “Tintin, lad.”

Tintin groaned. “My throat hurts,” he said hoarsely, and Haddock noticed for the first time that there were marks on the boy’s neck – forming bruises.

“Did he choke you?” The rumbling storm in Haddock’s voice was unmistakable, easily beating the storm outside the house and rivaling the ferocity of a naval hurricane.

“Yes, he – “ Tintin coughed. “He said something about revenge. This probably has something to do about that gangster article I wrote. His accent seemed to be American.”

Haddock hummed unhappily. “It’s a good thing you’ve moved in, then. We’ll ask Nestor to give you warm drinks when we’ve dealt with this, it might help.”

Tintin gave a breathy, weak laugh as his fingers ghosted over his neck. “Yes, that would be nice.”

They stayed that way for a while, with Tintin pressed to Haddock’s chest and the captain holding him protectively, until the authorities came in, dripping rainwater on the carpet. Not once did the trespasser stir.

It was late autumn when haddock found Tintin lounging in his favorite sofa in the library, an open book unread in his hand as he patted Snowy, who lay by the sofa’s feet blissfully. Molly was curled on the reporter’s stomach, looking content with the warmth the boy generated despite not getting pets.

Haddock couldn’t help the smile that overtook him when he saw Tintin all bundled up. Not that he was any better. It was just their luck that the heater in the mansion was being… difficult, and considering the season, it was more than a little cold. Of course, it still hadn’t snowed yet, but frost had started to kiss the grass and leaves, hugging the glass windows and leaving a layer of fogginess that Tintin sometimes drew on whenever he felt particularly childish.

“Hello, Captain,” Tintin greeted with he caught sight of the captain. “A bit cold, isn’t it?”

“Not as cold as the sea,” Haddock grinned.

Tintin gave a crisp laugh. “I suppose that expedition on Aurora was a lot colder.”

“Cold on a ship and cold in a house is different, though,” Haddock handed Tintin a cup of hot cocoa, which the reporter took gratefully after putting down his book. “I’ve called someone, but he told me that he can’t come here because this is his day off, even after I offered him extra money. Does he want to wait until someone freezes to death before he moves?” He scoffed. “Useless pickled herring.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons, Captain,” Tintin shrugged, wrapping his fingers around the cup to warm his hands. “Besides, it could be worse.”

Haddock hummed unhappily. “Let’s go to town,” he said suddenly, “make use of the heaters the shops have. Might as well do some Christmas shopping.”

“Well, I suppose we could,” Tintin agreed, taking a long sip of his drink. “When do we go?”

“In a few minutes. We’ll all be happier when we’re warm.” Haddock turned away. “I’ll get us our coats, so finish your cocoa in a bit, alright, lad?”

Tintin hummed, drinking his cocoa. He stared out of the window with a faraway look in his eyes. He started with Haddock shoved his coat into his line of sight.

“Are you alright, lad?” Haddock asked, holding the coat still.

“Just fine, Captain,” Tintin smiled and took the coat. He put his cup aside and wore the coat silently.

The captain decided to let it slide. “Who will you buy gifts for, if you don’t mind me asking?” he asked instead.

Tintin hummed again, in thought this time. “Well, there’s you, of course.” He shrugged. “Maybe some treats for Snowy and Molly. Something for Nestor… Thomson and Thompson… I’ll probably send something for Chang and his family, even if Christmas doesn’t have that much significance in China. And Mrs. Finch, too. And a card for Madame Castafiore wouldn’t hurt, considering she sent us one last year.”

Haddock snorted at the mention of Castafiore’s name. Then he blinked when he realized the absence of family in Tintin’s list. “Don’t you want to send your parents something?”

Tintin stilled before he turned to face Haddock with a sad sort of smile on his face. “I’m an orphan, Captain.”

Haddock stared uncomprehendingly before realization crashed. His eyes widened, and he felt weak all of a sudden. “Oh… oh. Blistering blue barnacles, Tintin, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

“It’s alright, Captain,” Tintin assured, “it’s been a long time. Besides, I have Snowy. And I’ve got you now.”

More confusion clouded Haddock’s thought at the words Tintin spoke until the young boy’s earnest gaze met his.

With a jolt, belated realization dawned on the sea captain. Somehow, the role of a guardian had fallen onto his shoulders, and he’d be damned if he failed his young, reckless reporter friend that had somehow become more of a son.

[gabbylight]

Saturday Night Session Post:

Fuuuck guys, idk about anyone else but my god. I understand I was in a LDR and it’s different but having a girl next to you, kissing you and showing some type of affections is soo heart warming. Like I feel like someone actually cares about you and has an ideal of respect to the person they like. But yeaaah... during “Dom this Dom that Period” with my ex I hated her but after the sudden break up, and the random hookup from Connor hahah, I’m really gladtyat happened this turn of events happened.

But at first I didn’t like her at her all because the issue I had with my ex was relevant, since we always argue about her for a year but as time went on I softened up too her and I guess I started to like her.

I’ll be picking her up from her PT classes at UOI and she’ll give me a kiss, like everyday. And we’ll spend the whole day at her apartment till I have to work, and then on some days she’ll text me have a nice day with a SFW picture of herself haha, and I’ll return the favor with some text like, “ Morning babe, be safe driving okay! And you better be studying when I get home! But anyways kiss kiss in the lips babe. I’ll be home around 4pm to pick you up. 😊💕🥰 SOMETHING like that you know? And she reply within the next 5 minutes with a reply.

I’m not expecting anything in this relationship, but she is showing me everything a good relationship can offer you. A relationship where you don’t argue every fucking day. Or have someone accuse you of some fictitious bullshit that I never did yet or anything psychotic.

But I can say this, I’m in a better place now. Yeah sure she didn’t graduate yet, doesn’t have her big girl job and she’s 3-4 years younger than me. But I know I’ll have a girl who has a better personality, doesn’t have a “temperament” and won’t be mothering me around. And I know she’s not perfect but at least ik 100% that she won’t let her insecurities dig this relationship to the grave. And won’t hold anything against me for the next 4 years of my life haha. And accuse me of nonsense that I never once dreamed of

But NOO yeah if only my relationship with my ex was like that then things could of been different. So Am I questioning it? Yes I am, I could of moved mid Oct, but how my ex was, there was no hope of the relationship to survive. I warned her, gave her heads up if I move who am I going to go to when we argue? She never woke up from that reality and kept ignoring it.... so yeah we made mistakes. I liked girls pictures and I save them and she got drunk and let a guy fingered her pussy etc. but we can’t keep holding on to the past and let them dictate it. Dwelling into the past will never help you. You need to forgive the mistakes, I forgave her for getting drunk; kinda since now that I type this my ex is a fucking idiot because she’s saying she needed the attention and I’m over here lacking any type of attention for the last two years hahaha. But yeah point is you can’t keep holding on to the past. It’s gonna bring you down. I firmly believed she wasn’t mentally prepared to be in a relationship after Justin/Kip and it proves it when we first dated. Already questioning my whereabouts, disrespecting me in three months of dating etc. and she wasn’t willing to block her ex or the people that threaten the relationship???? Like I had to sacrifice my friends while you still talked to your idiotic morons.

But unlike dom, she’s already putting her commitment to this relationship. Everyday dom is texting me good morning, I didn’t have to have an argument with her for that. She’s kissing me and giving me BJ ( a really fucking good one to be honest). I don’t have to reassure her who I’m with or what I’m doing. (I mean yes I do but not like my ex which leads to random arguments) She knows the set schedule and she knows I’m anal about sudden changes since that’s how my OCD brain works. She knows I’ll be with Connor on Mondays/Sunday’s for LOTR. And she doesn’t attack any girls that I talk to because she trust me I won’t cheat on her or because she’s know I have common sense not too. Sure she has insecurities but she has them in control except when she’s on her period which I understand and have a calendar for hahah.

And the big turn on, she’s letting me follow my dreams. I don’t have anyone telling me I can’t enlist, can’t be a cop or an emt and then lie to me saying you could of done that. Or she gives me the attention/affection that I lacked, she’ll call me during my breaks and ask me how’s work and we’ll talk for a little bit. She’ll stay up till I arrive to her place even though I’ll scold her to sleep because she needs to sleep for school etc. like deadass I’ll be driving at 12am or 1 am and I’ll be at her apartment and she’ll be awake and I’ll scolding her to sleep haha. I don’t care that I’m acting like a dad but a girl needs to sleep goddamn it. Especially when she’s in school. She’s not a fucking slob and eat in her room or have a messy fucking room with clothes that started to smell like feet....

And that’s why I started to like this girl, something my ex couldn’t offer me. Don’t get me wrong here, my ex did do stuff like that but arguments had to happened, or it lasted only a year and she just stopped completely. But for her, Dom is already giving me what I lacked, she’s willingly ready to go back.

And tmi hahaha, sex isn’t boring.... sure I understand I was in a LDR but maaan as time went on nothing exciting happened. Foreplay was boring, sure fucking her was nice but ehhh. For the first time and this is TMI I’m able to fire my load inside lol. And do other stuff not the basic missionary bullshit, and it’s fun. Like don’t get me wrong, fucking my ex raw was nice but with a hairy nest and stangy smell idk. No offense hahaha. But fuckinh in the car, her coach, her kitchen omg just omg and doing other kinks is 🤩.

But yeah tmi for sure but it’s true, I may not have my degree because I had someone rejecting my dreams cough cough but I’m already fixing my life and getting it situated. Dom is full pledge with my plan and is with it, and after the break up I already knew my mistakes so long ago. Am I perfect? Fuck no, nobody in this goddamn planet is, and that’s what makes us humans.

So i have no fucking clue where the future will bring to us but as of right now. In that picture I posted, using her Fuji TX-100 camera, I have found the person who I can hold hands to and not stress everyday for a possible argument to land. I can safely say this again, I am happy. I have a girl who I can proudly show off and say she’s mine. And not because of her beauty but because I fell in love with a girl with a personality that I can fight for and love for.

Lastly,

And Lia I know you have been reading my post since Janurary, it’s a 100% hunch because I know how you are and I dated you long enough and I’m very good with judging people’s characteristics and I also know how Filipinas are and it also proves it with your sisters since they’re still stalking my IG and twitter. but once you read this, you need to leave me alone now and that includes your two sisters because I am firmed with my decisions for calling you guys out and your sisters a nut case and creeps. I have no clue what the objectives here, and idk what the fuck you guys are smoking but stalking me solves nothing. So yes, my post is my book/recollection, and if you find this offensive then SOL. You have a new life now, and I’m not in the picture anymore. I hadn’t been in your picture since 2017 when you left to NYC when you got drunk and got fingered by a random guy. And that goes for the same with me, I’m with Dom now, I slept with her numerous times now when we were friends/now dating and you can keep thinking with your delusional accusations that I liked dom since NYC but I know the truth and the truth is that I didn’t like dom till now. So as of Friday when I typed this I have officially developed feelings for her now. And also, I can proudly say, I never cheated on my delusional ex after the constant accusations from her text and her round fucking face. Lia literally go fuck yourslef and grow the fuck up, not every fucking guy is like that.

So yeah Lia We are both guilty of our wrong doings, and I’m not saying you’ll change and ik you won’t because you told me this every time people don’t change. But people do change Lia, and that’s how relationships work. It doesn’t take one to do the tango, it takes two too make it work.

It was a fun 4 years, taught me things and it make me realize how controlling you were but at the end. I had fun falling in love with you, you were my first. so I hope things go well with your tinder boy and I hope things go well with my hooter whore. Good luck with your future and don’t forget, make sure you’re not a raging cunt anymore

But I’m glad me and Dom have met, she’s a nice person and down to earth and chill. I’m already planning to move actually but we are planning to take everything slow. I wasted my four years on a girl who promised me nothing so I have to get my life straightened up. Soo right now I’m planning to get myself a Yamaha 600 Ninja R6 I believe, I have been itching to start using a motorcycle since college and now that I’m able to do so I’m going to save up and get it ready before summer. But for the past two months it’s been peaceful and quiet, no headaches no one yelling at me. No bullshit, just myself, work and Dom.

[rhaevnfizzlebang-blog]

The Ruination of R and R

Having been there before Rhaevn knew the area she was teleporting into. Still it had been a risk, an area can change drastically in 5-6 years and there was always wild animals...she’d popped her head through the portal before rolling her bike through just in case. Thankfully it was as nature intended, undisturbed with the faint sound of wildlife all around her...that was until she climbed aboard her bike and started the engine.

She’d been thinking what her father had said, and so she had decided to find a place well away from the Legion. Well away from the fear and uncertainty. Grizzly Hills. Undisturbed, quiet, peaceful. Exactly what a girl needed to refocus and write...but not before she relaxed.

She drove her bike over the old familiar tracks, Awkweird snuggled against her back; the little matching goggles she’d made him, covering his eyes. He purred as she wove around branches, winding deeper into the wilderness. Then they came to it, the perfect spot. Well hidden, near a fish laden stream with heavy trees all around her. She cut the engine, rolled to a stop and kicked the bike stand down before she scrambled from the seat and got to work; the rambunctious kitten blinking around the clearing, chasing leaves. After setting up camp she spent two days fishing, foraging and reading a book. Then, as she finished the book on her second night, Awkweird curled by the fire fast asleep, she planned for the morning to be different. The morning would bring something fresh. Something new. Something she could write about...

 The morning came, with dew laden ground and birds chirping; with the kitten chasing said birds who dared land in the clearing.

The morning came with freshness, with the startling new-ness that all mornings brought.

It also came with something new to write about.

She stepped outside her tent, her small hands rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she flicked a finger towards her campfire. A simple spell to start a fire; she sat down, prepared her coffee, opened a pouch with berries inside and started having breakfast. It was while she was sipping her black, sharp tasting, coffee that she looked up. She squinted, hand shielding her eyes as the sun peaked through the early morning clouds, revealing...it... The cup dropped from her hand as she looked up at the sky, Awkweird blinking to where the cup had fallen and lapping at the coffee. She blinked slowly and stood, staring at the fel spewing planet that had appeared within Azeroth’s orbit.

“Can I not get away from it for one moment!” She shouted, causing birds to erupt from the trees at the sudden outburst.

She turned, picking up the half bottle of wine she had left and stormed back into her tent, firmly closing the flaps leaving the kitten to stare at the sky in wonder for a time before joining her.

She emerged a few hours later, the bottle finished and her mood soured. She glared up at the planetary eyesore occasionally as she tried catching more fish for dinner. Her anger, and fear, derailing the calm patience required. In the end she wound up up firing arcane bolts at the fish as they swam by. When she was done she had no fish. Instead she was cold, damp and her mood worse than before. She clenched her jaw, who needed fish when she had berries and hard travel tack?

Grumbling, her arcane kitten following at her heels, she trudged back into camp and shoved her fishing rod against her bike. Sitting down she flicked a spark to boost the dwindling flames of the camp fire. Then, warming her feet, she pulled out her writing set and, with the kitten tucked at her side, began writing furiously. After a while, her rage simmering, she noticed her communication crystal flickering in the pocket of her backpack. Sighing she stood, dusted off the seat of her pants as her short legs carried her over. She bent down and fished it out as Awkweird let out a squeaking yawn and curled tighter into a ball.

She muttered the access trigger word she had placed into the crystals spell matrix. Keri’s face shimmered into view as she held it level with her face, the woman on the other end smiled. She looked distant, worried. No doubt because of the inconvenience in the sky.  Behind her, in her state room aboard the Kildarton, objects swayed as if they were at sea.

“Rhaevn, good to see you. Are you enjoying your break?”

Rhaven pressed her lips and pointed to the sky.

“Point taken. Look, I know I said take a few days but something has come up.”

“Other than the giant planet of nope that looks like it’s trying to have some kissy time with Azeroth?” She retorted.

Keri laughed; her head tilting back a moment as she shook her head. “Only you could put it like that.” She looked to Rhaevn once more. “But, seriously, other than that. I need you on the ship, ASAP. We’ve already left the harbour.”

“What’s going on?” Rhaevn frowned. Her mind already churning over the complexities of conjuring a portal to a moving ship. The focus of multiple destination locks could, theoretically, help.

“Nothing big, a sudden job is all. One that could be a little risky.”

“Alright.” She said, already packing things up. “How many of ours on the ship?”

“Four not counting the crew.”

Four should be enough, if the ship wasn’t moving. “Alright, give me some time to pack up. Can you slow the ship or rather bring her to a stop so I can get a decent lock onto your position? A moving target is tricky and I’d rather not have my bike at the bottom of the ocean.”

“You took your bike to Grizzly Hills?”

“How else was I meant to get around? You’ve seen how short I am right?”

Keri laughed. “Point taken. We can bring her to a stop for only a few moments. We’ve a distance to go in a short amount of time.”

“Right, let’s get cracking then. Have the boat ready for me in 15 minutes.”

“Thanks Rhaevn. See you soon.” She said, already standing and leaving her quarters.

The image faded just as Keri started shouting orders for the ship to be brought to a halt, leaving Rhaevn to scramble as she packed up her campsite. She glanced at the words she had written on the parchment for a brief moment then shoved the writing set in her bag. Once everything was secured on her bike she glared at the planet once more before conjuring a portal.

‘At least two things in this world stay constant.’ She thought, patting first Awkweird then the handlebars of her bike affectionately. On the other side of the portal the ship flickered, a tenuous connection at best. Taking a deep breath she glanced a moment to the kitten then shoved the bike through, hoping that she didn’t misalign anything in her spell.