#they got mad at me when i was declining calls back when we were fighting right before i left them

[eternalratsuperhell]

i like rereading old messages from my toxic ex friends

like yes!!!! i’m gonna!!!!! read the forgotten scrolls!!!

[niallhorxns]

Niall Horan x Reader: Worth Fighting For

Prompt: The distance while he's on tour is difficult, you and Niall try to make it work.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: none

A/N: Hi all!! So excited to be writing again. Please enjoy this slightly angsty, short fic. And please feel free to send any / all Niall requests my way :)

Niall’s contact photo pops up on your phone. The ringer interrupts the song you were playing through your car speakers, but before you even slide to answer, you already know the sound of his voice is going to be way better than whatever poppy tune had been on.  

“Hey babe,” you smile widely, trying to balance your phone between your ear and shoulder as you drive home from work. The fact that you would be seeing Niall tonight has been the only thing keeping you smiling throughout the day. Not even the heavy traffic can interfere with your good mood.  

Since you’ve been together, you’ve dealt with Niall spending long hours at the studio– and occasionally taking long weekend trips to Ireland or New York. But this tour was so much more difficult than any of that. 

When Niall left for his latest tour, you both were dedicated to making things work. You planned FaceTimes and phone calls and flew in to see him whenever you could. However, the last few months had been harder than you could have ever anticipated, and the distance had definitely taken a toll on your relationship. 

But right now, none of that mattered, because Niall would be home tonight.  

“Hey there,” Niall says back. You can hear chatter in the background and briefly wonder if he’s landed yet.  

“Are you almost home?” You ask, hopeful.

There’s a brief pause, then Niall sighs. “That’s actually what I was calling about—“

“Oh no,” you interrupt. “Was the flight delayed?”

“No…” he clears his throat, “I’m actually still in New York.”

The moment he says the words, your coffee canister slips from your hands, spilling over your lap and car. The heat immediately seeps through your skirt. You’re lucky you don’t crash as you try to wipe it up with the napkins stuffed in your cup holder.  

“Shit,” you gasp, your thighs burning from the hot beverage. “Shit, shit, shit—“  

“Baby?” You hear his worried voice through the line. 

You flip your blinker on and pull over on the side of the road. You wipe up the remainder of the coffee, ignoring Niall asking if everything was okay on the other end of the line.  

Once your legs no longer feel like they’re on fire, you pick your phone back up, and already on the verge of tears resume your conversation.

“Are you serious?” You ask. “I thought you had three nights off.”

“I know– I do, but we got the opportunity to play on Fallon, my agent booked it–“ 

You can tell he’s trying to dodge a fight, which you’ve been doing a lot of lately. Last week you were mad when he canceled your FaceTime date to go out with bandmates instead. The week before that, he was frustrated that you declined his offer to fly you out to Denver with less than a day's notice.

Seeing each other today has been what you were both holding onto. Or at least that’s what you thought.

“Why do you have to play Fallon, Niall? It’s not like you’re desperate to grow your image–”

“I know, but it’s a good opportunity to expand to other listeners–”

You sigh, and without raising your voice say,  “I just… We’ve had these dinner plans for so long— I mean my parents have been talking about this for weeks.“

“I know, I know, I know—“ he says frantically, “I’m so sorry, believe me, I’d much rather be there than here… this place is nuts.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, and close your eyes, listening to the sound of traffic rushing by your parked vehicle.  

“Okay,” you sigh, feeling so defeated and drained all of a sudden. “Okay, well, we’ll miss you.”

“I know, tell everyone I say I’m sorry for not being there.”

“Yeah, alright,” you agree.  

“So we’ll just talk later then?” He asks, the noise in the background getting louder.  

“Okay,” you say before hanging up. 

You can’t help but notice that the “I love you’s” were skipped.  

You drive the rest of the way home with your fingers tightly clutching the steering wheel. Your knuckles are white by the time you pull into the driveway. You drag your bag and coffee-stained self into the house to change and get ready for dinner with your family.  

You try convincing yourself that the night will be fun, regardless of the fact that Niall bailed.  But the moment you sit around the table at the restaurant and count that you are in fact the ninth wheel of the family, you know things are doomed. Plus you can’t shake the achy feeling inside your chest that makes you fear for your relationship with Niall. You’d been holding onto this weekend together with everything you had. It’s kept you grounded, and reminded you that this distance between you and Niall won’t last forever– that this tour will eventually end. 

Except now, you have nothing to hold on to.  

“Where’s Niall?” Your mother immediately asked. Of course she does– because your family loves Niall. 

Without even thinking, you lie, “His flight got delayed. Bad weather. Tornadoes, I think—“  you’re not sure why you don’t tell the truth. Denial, maybe. Embarrassment that his job would always come before you.

“Bad weather?” Your brother asks, “Where is he?”

“New York,“ you say quickly. 

Your brother pulls out his phone. After a moment his brows furrow. “Huh, weird. The weather app says it’s sunny and clear there.”

Instantly you feel your face turning red. “Yeah… weird,” you say. 

Your brother opens his mouth– probably to ask more questions, but his girlfriend elbows him, indicating for him to shut his mouth. You give her a soft smile in appreciation.

You stay quiet for the majority of the meal, and you don’t feel much like eating. You try to listen to your dad talk about golf, but all you can focus on is how Niall might chime into the conversation. You try to listen to your older brother when he complains about his meal, but all you can imagine is how Niall would nudge your leg and offer you a sly smile, knowing how much that annoyed you. 

You can’t be present because all you can do is think about how much you miss him– you miss his laugh, and the smell of his aftershave. You miss how warm hands always are, and how they’re always touching you– every chance he can get. You miss the way he can always lighten the mood, and how safe you feel just knowing he’s around. You miss him with everything inside of you– and his absence tonight only makes you miss him more. 

All-in-all, you’re relieved when everyone is ready to head home.  

“Hey,” your brother’s girlfriend catches up to you before you can head to your car.

“Hi,” you smile.

“Is everything okay? I just— I wanted to make sure, because you do know New York doesn’t really have tornados, right?”

You nod and let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, I know. And Niall’s flight never got delayed,” you take a deep breath, “I guess that just sounded better than the fact that he didn’t even get on his flight. Got caught up at work,” you explain.

She sighs empathetically. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just—“ you feel the tears starting to fill your eyes and you wipe them away, embarrassed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh no,” she says empathetically.

“The distance is just, really, really hard. Way harder than I ever thought—“ Even you can tell how choked up your voice sounds. “And I just don’t see it ending anytime soon. I mean, sure, this tour will end. But he loves his job, so I know there will just be another one. And another. And can’t ask him to give that up. But I can’t compete with it. I just don’t know if I can do it—”

“Maybe you should talk to him about this,” she suggests, as she soothingly rubs your shoulder. “Tell him how much it’s bothering you. Be honest.”

You nod. “Yeah you’re probably right.” You wipe your runny nose on your sleeve.  

“Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

You nod, thanking her and hugging her goodbye. She’s right. You do need to talk to Niall. But that’s a conversation you wish you could just keep on the back burner, ignoring until everything ignited. You dreaded it the whole way home.  

When you did finally arrive home, you puttered around the house– put the dishes away, washed your face, got into your pajamas, all as an effort to stall. Finally, you curled up on the couch. With no more excuses to delay the inevitable, you pulled out your phone and clicked on Niall’s contact. You hated this– everything about it. You hated that you hated it– hated that you were dreading calling your favorite person in the entire world… the only person who made you feel whole. 

The phone rang three times before Niall answered. “Hey baby,” he said cheerfully. “How’re you?”

“Okay,” you said quietly. “How was Fallon?” 

“Not bad– that guy from the TV show you like… the one on HBO? God, I can’t remember the name of it now. But he was there. Made me think of you. The crowd was fun– a few people actually knew the words. How was dinner?” He asks.  

“It was fine—“ you lie, not really wanting to fake small talk. “Everyone missed you.”

“Yeah, I wish I could’ve been there.”

You clear your throat as you anxiously pick at the skin around your thumb.  

“Listen, Niall. We need to talk—“

“Babe,” he protests, like he knows where this is going. “I already apologized for not being there— I wanted to, but I couldn’t say no after they booked the gig–”

You don’t want another fight. You’re too tired, too drained, too sad to fight. You love Niall– so much so that you wanted him around all the time– needed him. And you know Niall loves you too. But Niall also loves music, and touring. One was always going to interfere with the other, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. And suddenly, the realization that this just isn’t going to work hits you like a ton of bricks.

“I know…” you say as non-confrontational as possible, “I know it’s your job, I understand that, but I— I need you here, Niall. And maybe that’s selfish of me, or whatever, but it’s true. I need you here. And I don’t know if I can do this distance thing, I thought I could, but I don’t think I can. It’s… Honestly, it’s killing me.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Niall asks. “I mean, what do you want me to do? Quit? Do you want me to quit the tour?”

You squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation of what’s about to happen.  

“No, I don’t want that,” you say, your voice becoming thick with tears. You could never take performing away from Niall– you wouldn’t be the thing that came between him and his passion. “I hate that this is through the phone, but I don’t think we should do this anymore. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

A long, heavy silence settles over the air. It sends waves of blood pumping to your ears. It’s deafening. 

You begin wondering if you should provide more of an explanation, but then Niall speaks. 

“Baby—“ he pleads, his voice suddenly full of desperation. “Please, I know you’re mad about tonight but I can fix this—“

“I’m not mad,” you tell him honestly, pushing the emotion in your voice down and trying to muscle through. “I understand that you couldn’t say no. I know you wanted to be here but couldn’t. But I come second to your job, Niall. And I always will. And that’s not your fault. But it’s not my fault either. And I– I just think that I need more than that.”

He’s stammering incoherently on the other end, and you imagine what his face looks like right now. Is he crying? Are his eyebrows all scrunched up?

He tries protesting again, but you can’t think about anything other than getting off the phone.  

“I’m really sorry this isn’t in person, you deserve that. But I just can’t keep doing this,” you explain. “When you’re back in LA, shoot me a text and I can get your stuff together.”

“Baby–” he pleads. 

But you cut him off. “Goodbye,” you whisper, hitting the end button before he can convince you to change your mind. As soon as the line goes dead, you break out into uncontrollable sobs.  The weight on your shoulders that you thought would be lifted only felt heavier as you let yourself fall back against the cushions of the couch you bought together.

Your chest aches. Desperately, you clutch your arm around yourself, trying to hold everything together. 

It hurts like fucking hell. 

It’s the kind of pain you know will leave lasting scars– the kind you know you’ll carry with you forever. And the only person you’d ever want to call to help you through it is the one you just broke up with. 

Broke up. 

You and Niall broke up. 

You cry harder. 

You cry and cry and cry– until there’s nothing left inside of you, until you’re pretty sure if you cried anymore, you’d need an IV to replace all the fluids. You cry until finally, you drift off into an uneasy sleep, curled up on the couch with Netflix playing on the TV, the screen lighting up the otherwise dark living room. 

The clock below the TV reads 7 am when you wake to the sound of the front door opening.  

Your first instinct is to scream, but you catch a glimpse of the familiar, dark haired man crossing the room before that can happen.

“Niall?” You say groggily, rubbing your tired eyes. “What are you doing?” You feel like you might still be dreaming.

“I know you probably don’t want me here,” he says, he’s out of breath, panting, even– like he ran across the country overnight to be here. That’s when it hits you that Niall is really here– not across the country in New York, but standing in your shared living room in LA. 

“Just hear me out—” He begs. When you don’t protest, he continues. “I love my job,” he states. “Playing music has always been my dream, and then that dream came true. I love touring– I love performing.I love being able travel around so much—“

You let your eyes wander to the floor, wondering where this all is going.

“But none of that compares to how much I love you,” he says, his shoulders finally deflating.  “And I’ll quit in a heartbeat if that’s what it takes. Please, please don’t be mad– I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work, I swear.”

It had been so long since Niall had told you he loved you, that you feared it might no longer be true. But as soon as he says the words with such honesty and passion, your face scrunches up and the tears start to fall, because you immediately believe him. For a moment, you forget that you’d practically broken up with him over the phone.

All you care about is that he’s here. Niall is here, standing in front of you in real life for the first time in so long. As soon as he sees your face crumple, he’s crossing the room in two quick strides. Before you can protest, he’s kneeling in front of you on the couch. 

Your knees– you think. But then one of Niall’s hands is cradling your cheek softly while the other rests on your thigh, and all you can think about is how grateful you are that he’s home. 

“I’m not mad, I just… I– I miss you–” you sob before leaning forward, arms winding around his neck while you crash into him. “I miss you so much, all the time.” 

His arms wind around you tightly. He smells so familiar, and when he tightens his grip around you, you immediately feel safe and secure and whole again– the way only Niall can make you feel.   

You’re not sure how long you stay like that. But you’re afraid that the minute you let go, things will fall apart again.  

“I miss you too,” he whispers, hand coming up to stroke through your hair. “God, I missed you so much.”

You lean into his touch, try to memorize the feel of it. Then, you sigh into his neck. “I could never ask you to quit your job. You love your job more than anything. You’d be so unhappy and I’d hate myself for making you unhappy.”

Niall pulls you away from himself– holding you out in front of him. “You come before my job, okay? It’s not even close. If I quit music, I’d miss it. Of course I would. But I can write songs here– play my guitar here. Eventually, it’d feel okay. But if I lost you–” Niall shakes his head, like the thought alone is too unbearable. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to be happy again. You come first, okay? Always.” 

You give Niall the best attempt at a smile that you can come up with, enough to show him that you appreciate his gesture. It’s nice actually hearing how much Niall cares for you. He smiles back, it’s weak and doesn’t reach his eyes, but it’s a smile all the same. And it’s Niall’s. 

But then it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a slight frown before he says, “What if you came with me?”

Taken aback, you immediately shake your head. “What? On tour?”

He nods, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Yeah, why not?”  

You open your mouth, presumably to list the reasons why that would be such a bad idea. But your mind is blank. 

“You can bring your laptop– work from the bus, or hotel or whatever. We could travel around, see things. Just be together.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’d get sick of me–”

“Are you kidding? I’m sick of being away from you.”

“Niall– there’s no way. I have work– what about the apartment?”

“It’s an apartment, not a dog. It doesn’t need food or water. Plus, I won’t be touring all the time. Just for a few more months. We’d get through it, then figure out what to do next. But we’d be together.”

The more he talked, the more you realize that maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. Like he said, it’s only a few months. Maybe it really could work. 

And in that moment, on top of admiration and love and endearment, you feel hopeful– hopeful for the first time in a long time. Because even though things between you and Niall are far from perfect, you love him and he loves you. And that’s worth fighting for.  

[simpfordemetri]

I am translating this from Spanish to English so excuse me if it is incoherent. The guards with a partner who evaded the lower guards and sneaked out of the castle for a night out while they are on a mission?

VOLTURI GUARDS X PARTY READER

⟳ & ♥︎

This is a bit dark?It’s not Yandere or anything(cause i don’t write Yandere) but let’s be honest, you are sneaking out from your possesive and brutal vampire mate ,you are in hell to pay.

✧; :🎀: ;✧ ✧; :🎀: ;✧ ✧; :🎀: ;✧ ✧; :🎀: ;✧ ✧; :🎀: ;✧

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

ALEC

He is just mad ,so so mad and the worst part is that he can’t run back to the castle and rapidly following your scent

But don’t think he is telling you he knows everything ,ohh no

He will let you be even with anxiety hunting him down,he will act normal if you call or text him, making you think you succeed

And when he arrived from the mission,he will even welcome you in the sweetest way!

It’s just a little mind game,you will receive hell as a big argument will start cause you hurted him, scaped and went out without him unconscious of the danger

JANE

She knew something was up cause your texts messages were a bit dry and every hours ,you weren’t answering right away

And when she called you and you DECLINED the call, he is right away sending someone to your room to check if you are there

Then expect her to literally break down your phone with calls, even Alec is calling you

She is leaving voice messages where all you can hear is her screaming and ranting ,basically a big tantrum

You can expect her to literally lock you in your share room and not letting you have access to even any window.

You are guarded 24/7 ,if not by her, by Alec.

DEMETRI

Babe, do we really want to do this today?

He is a tracker and will hunt you down… While he is away on missions he already check your scent every now and then to see if you are were you are supposed to.

So i don’t know how to make this long ,one sniff and he is coming for you

No phone anymore, and this is the biggest betrayal ever

Even with him being the most patient one, he lost all the trust for you cause he just don’t understand why you did this

It’s even worst because for some reason his mind is building up the paranoia of how you might have cheated on him

You didn’t,but good luck trying to make him enter reason.

FELIX

His heart is crashed because he just ask himself ,why?

If you wanted nothing but that you could at least told him and he would had manage to take you out some night

He is just sad to be honest,cold shoulder and sobbing for days

He gets really snappy and would only get to your side if you need help with something but that’s all

Thats your punishment, hurting you emotionally in reward

Even when he forgives you,his heart will still feel betrayed

HEIDI

He catched you even before you left the castle

She just wanted to see if your silly little human mind changed in last moment and got yourself back to your share room

So when she saw you still continue with your stupid plan

Even after laid a feet outside the castle,her grip hard on your t-shirt and pushed you back to her

Yelling and…i really hope she doesn’t throw any stuff at your face while fighting with you

At least not something she could really hurt you with

But,you were the one who fucked up

[outcaststars]

I've been streaming on twitch for over 4 years. I've made a great community and a wonderful group of friends but I've also had to deal with a lot of aweful people. Recently I've been feeling particularly upset about it all so I'm going to air all my grievances here. TW this mentions bullying, grooming, self harm and abuse. If anyone mentioned in this post trys to comment im just gonna delete it, i also dont care if your fav streamers is here, this is my authentic experience. Also dont go attacking anyone i mention here, the whole point of this is to be better then them.

Rat_emoji

The first streamer I ever had an issue with was Rat_emoji. It all started when I tuned into one of their DbD streams only to find him streaming another, younger, streamers live content.

He had just died to this kid playing Myers, he had TTV in his name and Rat was so mad about what had happened he streamed this kids twitch live to his viewers, all the while making fun of his appearance and stream quality.

A day later I would go back and screen record this whole interaction so I can share that if you want to see it. It felt so disgusting to watch this happen live, he has 100 viewers in chat and they were all being nasty. The only person who told him to stop was drag streamer Suttonfister (i think, 90% sure) who was in the same game and discord call at he time. the whole scene was aweful to witness, it felt like such an abuse of power. Rat didnt directly say anything mean but they made a lot of mean girl comments and didnt moderate anything cruel their chat said, it was obviously intentional.

After this I blocked Rat, it would have been easy to avoid him if he didn't found the stream team "Aussie pride", he got a lot of attention for that and a lot of praise and all of it made me sick. Funnily enough I heard that Aussie Pride was an aweful team to be in. The creators didn't care about the smaller members, planned no events and then disbanded the team with the release of Hogwarts legacy because they didn't want to take a stance on JK Rowling. Honestly it seems like the whole thing was a vanity project. That's why I don't like Rat_emoji.

Dcypherpup

DCpup was the first streamer I tried to network with. He hired me to make some art for him. He wanted me to work on merch for his channel, I declined, saying that I wasnt comfortable with the idea of someone else selling my art. I counter offered to just make him a profile icon, this way we could see how my style suited him and i could work out how to tackle the idea of eventually doing merch.

When the icon was done I sent him the high res file, he asked for my signature (my artist tag, a very small "outcaststars" in the corner) to be removed. When I asked why, he told me he needed it gone in order to upload it as merch.

Naturally I was upset. I explained that we had already made a deal not to do merch yet and I also explained that I was uncomfortable with the idea of removing my tag. I went on to explain why visibility was so important for artists. At the time I was a much smaller content creator and DCpup platform was much bigger.

He apologized and said he would give me a cut of the sales. I said don't bother and reluctantly let him do what he wanted. At the time I was too scared to make enemies so I fell into people pleasing.

I took more work from DCpup because I needed the money and I hoped it would be good for my channel growth. He would upload my work to his store and wouldn't credit me. I was frustrated.

The tipping point was after the final comm I took from him. An animated ending screen. During this process DCpup would message me everyday asking for updates which was annoying. When I delivered the final product he once again asked for my tiny, half transparent signature to be removed. I was so upset and defeated, I told myself I'd fight it but I didn't. I removed my sign from every layer, reanimated the whole thing and vowed not to take work from him.

After the piece was done he wanted to commission me again. I left him on read, then I found out what he was saying about me to other people. A good friend of mine showed me a message he had sent in his stream, telling him not to bother commission me, because I would be too busy doing work for him. I was furious.

Another week later I got raided by someone and told the new viewers to check out my work, it broke my heart when someone who looked at my insta, told me he had no idea I made all of DCpups stuff. Why would he? Dcypherpup went to ridiculous lengths to hide my credit. He was telling people not to contact me and not tagging any comm work with my name. One day he came into my live stream and I was so mad I banned him on the spot .

I wish I had done more to be assertive, live and learn. Funnily enough I found out he posted a big rant, telling people off for supporting JK Rowling when Hogwarts legacy released. Only to be called out for buying it and playing it on his steam, which he had forgotten to make private. He deleted the tweet. What a cunt.

Undertheredmoon and Greenypika

Redmoon is furry streamer that I use to really like. They were funny, had great energy and I would even go as far to say that they were a friend.

All this came to a grinding hault the day he invited furry artist and accused child groomer Daveoverlord to join us on Monster hunter rise live on stream.

Dave wasn't in voice chat and I wasn't reading Redmoons twitch chat at the time, so although I was aware of who Dave was, I didn't realize it was them. When someone messaged me about it a few days later I was mortified, I assumed Redmoon didn't know and I messaged them immediately.

I asked Red if he knew who Dave was and what he had done and the kind of artists he was friends with (cub artists). Redmoon ghosted me, left me on read for a week. I messaged again asking why he wasn't talking to me. He said he was too stressed to deal with this "drama" and didn't care to get involved. He mentioned that if Dave was guilty cops probably would have gotten involved and said he just wanted to focus on his own work.

When I asked Redmoon where he stood on cub porn, he stopped replying. We haven't spoken since.

The same person who told me about Dave joining stream also pointed out that Greenypika was inviting Dave onto his stream. They dm'd greeny and asked them if they knew and greeny said he had no idea and that he'd look into it. Greeny hadn't responded for a few months so I dm'd him with the same message and got the same copy paste reply. TLDR greeny knew and was just lying about it so I blocked him too.

Daveoverlord

Dudes a fucking groomer and now he streams. Blocked.

Cidermarten

Cider and I got into an argument once, the topic of which is no one's business.

His bf weyland got mad at me for it and vague tweeted about it so I decided to start a group chat with them to sort it out. And we did.

I apologised for what I did and cider took some time away from interacting with me. Everyone in this situation wanted what was best. And weyland is now one of my best friends.

Cider and I aren't as close as we could be but that's my fault. They're honestly a wonderful person and I appreciate their friendship. There inclusion in this list is to prove a point later but they're also the only person here who I think deserves success.

Stripeydragon and Break trail.

This one is complicated because it involves someone who ment a lot to me.

Back when the exclusive stream team Break Trail formed, my good friend Marsh joined the team. Being an artist he did a lot of the teams promo art of all it's members. Marsh had a lot of anxieties about the team because he was one of its smallest members and often told me he felt underappreciated or out of place. This feeling for worse when artist/streamer and fellow team member Stripeydragon decided he was going to do a redraw of all of marsh's promo work.

I didn't see Marsh much at the time but when this began he spent the better part of a week in my mod chat expressing how upset he was about it. It didn't help he was already anxious but he felt stripydragon was replacing him and even mentioned a time when he tried to give feedback on stripys work only for him to disregard it. Marsh was really fucking upset.

After stripeydragon posted the work my moderator, Ibn, who had been listening and consoling marsh for a week, decided to comment on the art publically. He said he didn't think stripyes version of the art was better and criticized him of slimming down the fater characters.

I wanna pause this to say I don't condone what Ibn did. He ment well but it wasn't his fight and he shouldn't have commented a critique on something no one asked him to judge. Don't do this. Anyway...

Stripeydragon fucking hated this. Not only did he respond to every tweet, he went into the break trail discord and rallied everyone to defend him and attack Ibn, a lot of break trail members also rushed to the comments to defend stripey and attack ibn. He also posted ibns comment in his own discord to encourage others to dog pile on. This shit got out of hand super fucking fast. Ibn was crying and marsh was pissed. It was betray of trust on Ibns part, but the way stripey responded was downright scary.

Shit was at its peak by the time I woke up (Australian timezone) and I immediately went into damage control. I gave Ibn a huge lecture, I was mad af and told him to apologize. I dm'd breaktrails stream team manager Mari, and tried my best to defuse the situation so that both parties could stop. Everyone deleted their tweets. Ibn apologised a dozen times and Marsh told everyone that ibn was just an asshole.

So the story everyone believes now is that marsh actually loves stripydragons work and Ibn is just a weird jerk. There where no consequences for stripydragons weaponizing a stream team and their fan base against someone on twitter. They're still a member of break trail but the team has been dead for a long time. I understand that Ibn was in the wrong and marsh should have just talked about his issues with his team. But this is another case of someone with a big platform and bigger ego not hesitating to use that to attack others.

Starkymorph

this one is fucked up.

Starky mods for a bunch of break trail members, so he had an inside look into the whole stripeydragon thing. Keep that in mind.

About a year after the stripey incident, I woke up to a message from starky. I had recently finished a commission for starky but apart from that we didn't know each other well.

He claimed that ibn had harassed him on stream by bringing up controversial topics and that because he was my mod he wasn't going to support me any more. I was pretty angry, Ibn was causing trouble again. I dm'd ibn and told him I didn't want to hear what he had to say and instead I just wanted the timestamp on Starkeys VOD so I could see what he did myself.

I watched the VOD and what I saw didn't line up with anything starky had said. He made the whole thing up.

What really happened was, starky decided to bring up "cancel culture" and went on a rant about how it was inherently bad and that anyone who participates in it only does it for "self-aggrandizing reasons". A lot of the shit he said was very thinly veiled right wing bullshit dog whistles.

Ibn asked him to elaborate and said something to the likes of "what about people who cancel pedos and rapists" and starky banned ibn and ended the convo.

Ibn didn't start the controversial topic and he didn't harass anyone. But starky was mad and wanted to attack him, he knew Ibn had a history of starting shit so he came to me with a bullshit story thinking I'd believe him and Ibn would lose his friends. And it almost worked.

I tried to talk some sense into starky, I pointed out that his original message was dishonest. Starky doubled down and made up more lies. He continued to claim that things happened during the stream that aren't in the VOD. He even bought up weylandshere and claimed he was harassing him too, out of nowhere! which if you watch the VOD is also completely made up. He said some ablist shit about "high functioning autism" aswell, its all really incoherent. Non of this is true and I downloaded the VOD so he couldn't hide the evidence.

Starky tried to use my argument with cider and Ibns argument with stripy as evidence that we were bad people. I found this really sinister, because my initial reaction to Starkys story, was that i believed him, pretty much everyone reacted this way. It upsets me that i was almost convinced to distance myself from my best friend because of a lie.

A ton of people didn't watch the VOD and took Starkeys word. Starky blocked me and started asking all his followers and mutuals to do the same. A whole bunch of people sub tweeted about ibn being an abuser and me being an enabler. It was fucking aweful. It went on for days.

This only stopped when Kyziethewolf stepped in and defended me. Even tho starky was one of his best friends, he had watched the VOD and told everyone he was lying. Starky doesn't talk to kyzie now and it really broke his heart.

A lot of people still believe starky and I lost a bunch of mutual streamers support because of this. It's one of the worst attacks I've suffered on twitter/twitch to date.

I found out a few months later he's added "outcast is racist" to the narrative he tells people and there's nothing I can do about that

This also basically ended my friendship with Marsh. I've known marsh for 7 years and hes a friend of Starkeys too. During this whole ordeal he never spoke up, it was only kyzie. I was really upset about this because i feel that Marsh could have made a significant change to how this played out if he had of just stepped in.

When he dm'd me a few weeks after asking if I'm make some free art for his project I told him no. I told him I was hurt. He said he just didn't want to get involved in drama. i think its really harmful to reduce harassment to just "drama". We've stopped talking.

Jayedskier

I met jayed though my friend weyland. I needed a 3D artists and he needed work.

Jayed had recently lost a lot of friends because during COVID he tweeted that people not social distancing at a furcon where putting disabled, high risk, people's lives in danger. Totally righteous imo.

He however also tweeted that anyone who doesn't where a mask should kill themselves and deservingly got a lot of hate and backlash. Lost a lot of friends. Since then he was pretty unwilling to comment on any political shit. Publically that is.

The first fight I got into with jayed was when Ibn reposted a Tumblr thread about the YouTuber keffals, and some of the problematic things she'd done. Jayed loves keffals so he dm'd Ibn about it and started a huge fight defending his favourite YouTuber. I stepped in to try and resolve the fight but no one was really happy.

This argument made jayed realise that he didn't have the same values as the friend group he was in. He liked keffals, he thought it was ok to say the R slur and he felt people should be allowed to support JK Rowling.

He left my discord and I contacted him trying to smooth things over. We talked for a long time and I settled on agree to dissagree the hopes to change his mind on some of these issues.

That didn't happen. Jayed kept starting fights about woke shit, even though he's a self proclaimed "leftist" and it slowly drove a wedge between us. He stopped talking to everyone in our friend group, unfollowed us all on socials.

Artists/streamer and friend Ixu had drawn a big group shot of all of us together. Weyland (who is in this friend group) was pretty angry about the whole ordeal so he asked Ixu for a version without jayed edited out. When he posted this jayed got super pissed about it.

Jayed tweeted about how unwelcoming my community was. Screen caped some DM's and changed the context. I was so angry, I had spent months continuing to offer my friend ship and trying to change his mind. One of the last fights we got into he said he was mad that "people" expected him to show support for Palestine and thats kind of the end of it.

This one hurt because it felt like a betrayal. Jayed you can get fucked dude.

Socksthewolf

This one is super recent and is basically why I decided to write this.

I can't remember how I met socks. They work in the games industry and they have a LOT of money/connections. He gives away a lot of stuff, Donates to people a lot. He very affectionate and Everyone loves him. I even accepted a bunch of charity/gifts from him and in return drew a bunch of gift art.

Socks success made a few mutuals of mine uncomfortable. He had a lot of money to put into stream so his channel grew insanely fast. I'm also told he made comments to some mutuals, comparing channel growth that made them feel bad. He ran multiple giveaways and got partner almost a year after starting stream.

There was some drama between socks and one of his mods. I tried my hardest not to get involved. Socks employs a lot of parasocial strategies in order to retain an audience so he flirts a lot and also has a persona of "I'm you dad" on stream. Idk if this counts as love bombing, but it feels similar.

I heard that one of his mods developed a crush on him and when rejected, he drank himself into the hospital. He almost died.

I spoke with this ex mod about it. He doesn't blame socks for what happened even tho he feels the rejection was harsh. I still feel that socks takes advantage of people with his gifts and parasocial friendship. This is a result of that going unchecked.

One of our mutuals found out about this and was really upset. They tweeted about it and tried to hold socks accountable. Nothing came of it.

I grew distant from socks when he started hanging out with Redmoon a lot. Because I felt close to them at the time I messaged him a about Redmoon and what happened between us. He never replied.

This story takes a dark turn when jayedskier, friend of socks, decided to make that tweet mentioned in his section. Socks also went in on someone jayed had mentioned.

This is about my good friend Weyland. Weyland had had someone very close to them pass away recently. Socks complied some tweets and chat screen caps, and made up a story of weyland threatening to kill themselves.

Some of the messages were about weylands dead friend. Socks knowingly changed the context and lied to make weyland look bad.

I honestly think this is the worst thing on this post. To use the death of someone and the personal anguish of someone and ammo for you bullshit story about them is fucking horrifying.

I replied to socks tweet about weyland, I told him what he was doing was wrong. He told me that he feels bad I'm surrounded by toxic people and that he hopes they get better.

After seeing the way socks treats his audience and the way he lied about another streamer, I genuinely believe hes some kind of abuser. Idk the vibe is REALLY off with this one. This feels worse then bullying, there's an ego about it. I've blocked socks on everything. Frankly they scare me.

Final notes

Anyway that's been my aweful experience with aweful twitch streamers. The whole thing has left me bitter and sad and I no longer want to interact with anyone. idk where to go from here.

Twitch TOS doesn't care what people say or do on other platforms. And with other streamers/mutuals so unwilling to get involved or show support I just feel alone.

I do feel compelled to speak up when I see or experience something I think isn't right. I think a lot of neurodivegant people, like myself, feel that way. But I think it's been terrible for my career. I hate the feeling that I'd be so much more successful if I'd shut my mouth and looked away. Maybe even be partner by now. I know a lot of this comes across as just "furry drama" but i think its reductive to label it as that. Content creators who engage in these kind of harmful behaviors need to be held accountable if we want to see any positive change. And im not saying that means "CANCEL" them. some (not all) of these content creators can still learn and grow and be better. Negative attitudes and dismissive statements of "its just drama" create a space for bullies to thrive

Finally, please PLEASE do NOT under any circumstances harass anyone involved in this post. This is not an attempt to rally the masses to lynch some people, im just telling my story so that next time you see someone come forward with claims about a content creator you like you'll see the situation differently.

If you made it this far, wow. Thank you. Dunno if I'll post the vids/screencap evidence. I don't know if I care enough.

[presidentbungus]

how the mercs deal with anger (please god get them some group therapy)

scout: gets white-hot over threats, mother-related insults, or stubbing his toe, but stays SO FUCKING MAD for a total of about thirty seconds and then he's fine again. tries to hold grudges but is really, really bad at it, since he usually starts missing whoever he's mad at within two hours, and anything that manages to stick around residually he forgets about the next time he falls asleep. be expected to have to hold him back from fights in public, but if there's an argument he won't stay mad at you for longer than half an hour. averages out into a kind of chill guy. kind of.

soldier: his default state seems to be anger, if you could call it that; maybe something closer to conviction, or blind, self-righteous stupidity. he never really leaves said default state outside of extreme circumstances that would make anyone react twice as much as he does, anyway. fights anyone who looks too long at him but that's just kind of a result of who he is. if he likes you he'll accuse you of being a traitor-communist at every conceivable opportunity but barely seems to believe it, if such a thing were ever possible. if you're friends now you're friends forever. have fun with that.

pyro: exists in a constant state of "fuck it we ball". if you fuck up his shit she'll fuck up your shit but like who give a fuck. chillest guy alive have some fire

demo: fierce-tempered in battle, relatively cool outside of it, with an honor code so esoteric and layered you'd need a spell book and about nine thousand history textbooks to figure any of it out. aside from the routine massive deals he makes out of the regular things like bravery and chivalry, he's mostly pretty chill; a little more aloof than strictly necessary, but thinks most situations a lot of people would get mad at are just pretty funny, but aye if you wanna pick a fight with me I don't mind chopping off a few heads. likes to fight for the sake of fighting; initiates brawls just to punch people, as god intended.

heavy: grudgeholder, to put it simply. burns impossibly slow with the patience of a mountain and the stereotypical stoicism of a large bald man who grew up in a wintry wasteland but, trust me, he remembers everything you have ever done to him. he forgives easily but he does not forget. god forbid you manage to set his temper off; your death will be slow, painful, and if you manage to claw your way out of it you will wish you hadn't. that said, it usually only happens when you commit some deep infraction against something he holds dear, like his trust in you or, god forbid, somebody he cares about. good fucking luck

engineer: is by all accounts a very small, angry man, who will give you a list of everything he doesn't like about you in alphabetical order if you're a little too annoying for a little too long, and who knows about nine-thousand ways to ruin your life forever and is kept away from deploying them by rapidly declining sanity and a seemingly endless supply of straight black coffee. very good at pretending to be calm, that said, and you'll almost never know he's mad at you until you've got seventy guns pointed at you in the middle of the night. cries when he's real mad; gets angrier that he's crying; cries more. seems mature on the surface but has the emotional development of a piece of wet toast. he'll get there someday.

medic: irritable, but it seems difficult to slight him beyond mild annoyance considering his general aloofness in almost every situation. prone to barking his words when he's mad, and gets in murderous fits, but he doesn't like to hold grudges because, frankly, they're stupid and he doesn't have any time for them. just give him an hour or two to cool off and you'll both be fine. don't keep pushing him when he's already reached his breaking point or he'll get dangerous, though, because he doesn't care about killing someone in broad daylight and he certainly won't care about dismembering you right here in the infirmary. whatever he needs to do to get some peace and quiet.

sniper: gets annoyed at people over extremely trivial things, gets mad at them for weeks afterwards, and feels super bad about it. rarely feels anger without some massive tinges of sadness. tends to self-isolate and mope around for a while when she's mad about something, since even the thought of confrontation makes her want to puke. has no idea how to handle any of this

spy: practiced not to feel anger, since anger leads to mistakes, long-held habits slipping on the flip of a dime. still gets mad sometimes, but in private, where he can take it out on a punching bag and then smoke until he falls asleep. very good at not letting situations overtake him. past a very specific point, though, if he does end up getting overwhelmed (which happens despite his best efforts); almost as a defense reflex, he completely shuts down, and often either runs away or finds another way to discreetly escape the conversation as quickly as possible. master emotion bottler in all the world. hasnt cried in 50 years. should probably get that checked out

[lionlena]

We don’t love each other (PedroPascalxreader) angst! Part VI

Summary:  You and Pedro are: friends with benefits, for many years. Your layout is simple and clear. You don’t love each other. You’re friends on a daily basis, you take care of each other… Sometimes you sleep together. You go on dates with other men and Pedro doesn’t mind. Everything is simple until you accidentally hear Oscar say that Pedro loves you. Then you decide to tell him the truth and you ruin everything.

Warnings: angst!!! smut, mentions of sex, friends with benefits, sad, broken hearts, age difference (reader is 15 years younger than Pedro)

*

Part VI

You were holding back tears when you got home. Tyler had no problem noticing that something had happened. Of course, you told him the truth earlier. Or rather, the half-truth that you're going to see Pedro because you have to give him something. You didn't just say that you had to give him your heart because it would be easier for you to live without it.

"What happened?" he asked you, and you couldn't stand the concern in his eyes.

If only he knew the truth.

"You know... I had a fight with him. I think fame went to his head."

Another lie.

Tyler frowned and pulled you into his arms.

"I'm sorry bunny."

You winced at a pet name that didn't suit you. You turned around and tried to find a more comfortable position. Tyler was too tall. In fact, he was only 3 or 4 cm taller than Pedro, and yet it bothered you. And his chest was too hard and his arms didn't hold you the way you liked. It just wasn't Pedro's body. You shook your head and stepped away from him.

"I have a headache. I'll take some painkillers and go to bed."

"Okay. I still have some work to do, but call me if you need anything."

Why were you calling him? It wasn't his shoulder you wanted to cry on.

As soon as you were in bed, you began to analyze the whole situation.

Did Oscar know Pedro had someone? Did that bastard trick you? NO.

Oscar was mean and unfair at times but, you knew him. He was honest. If he knew Pedro had someone, he wouldn't have met with you. He would just leave you alone.

Then you started to think, who was this woman? Have you seen her before? How did Pedro meet her? Where and when? Did he love her?

You groaned in frustration. Why would you spend so much energy thinking about someone who didn't want to love you?

"I really don't want to love you."

Pedro's words echoed in your head. It couldn't have been said more clearly.

You felt your phone vibrate. When you saw the name flashed on the screen, you immediately declined the call. There was no way you'd ever answer a phone call from Oscar again.

*

(Oscar POV )

Oscar glanced uneasily at his phone. He tried to call Pedro and you for days, but of course, neither of you are answering. And he had such a brilliant plan. Sure, he was rough with you, but he knew he had to piss you off for you to go to Pedro. He was sure that as soon as you see him, broken down with tears in his eyes, you will not be able to be mad at him any longer and you will hug him. When you hug him, the old feeling will wake up in you, and then... You will definitely manage on your own and you two will be happy again.

He knew it was rude to ask about Tyler, but he had to check your reaction. Your anger only made him realize that he was right. You didn't want to be with Tyler.

So he had to correct his mistake and get you back together. He didn't even care what arrangement you came up with. He just wanted Pedro to be happy with you again.

For years he thought you were hurting Pedro. He knew you were doing it unconsciously, but he was angry with you. So many times Pedro whined into Oscar's phone. He's seen how much his friend was devastated while you were finding yourself a new boyfriend. And so many times he tried to change it. He was specifically finding girls for Pedro. He wanted you to feel jealous and understand that you love Pedro. Unfortunately, it was his friend who always spoiled his plans. When you were around, instead of seducing the woman Oscar gave him, Pedro focused all his attention on you. This made him furious. He meant well... And it ended in disaster. But it's not his fault that you and Pedro were both idiots in love.

He sighed heavily and again dialed Pedro's phone number.

If he has to, he'll just kidnap you two and lock you in a windowless room together. Yes, it was a good plan.

*

(Pedro pov )

Pedro flinched when he heard the phone ring. It was late afternoon and he had managed to have a nap on the couch. He rubbed his tired eyes with his hand and cursed under his breath. He figured if it is Oscar, he'd pick it up and tell him to fuck off. However, a different name was displayed on the screen.

"Hi Laura," he said, not hiding the tiredness in his voice.

The woman, however, did not care at all and immediately dropped the bomb on him.

"You need to talk to Y/N."

He immediately sat on the couch.

"What? Do you know that I and she had a fight? Big..."

"Tyler is cheating on her! Imagine I saw him in my town making out with some chick and... It wasn't a friendly hug."

He couldn't help but make his heart beat faster.

"That motherfucker..." he hissed.

"I think so too. I'll send you pictures right now so you can show her."

"What?! Wait, no!"

"Pedro, did you hear me? Tyler is cheating on Y/N. Someone needs to tell her."

He sighed heavily and wiped his face with his hand. How he was going to explain to Laura that he was the last person who should talk to you about love and betrayal.

"This is a bad idea. Why don't you just call her?"

He heard a groan of frustration on the other end of the phone.

"It's not something you can say over the phone!"

"So, come here."

"Uh, the problem is that I broke my leg and I can't move for the next three weeks."

Pedro stopped sitting on the couch a long time ago. He paced restlessly around the living room. He wanted to go to you so much, and at the same time, he was so afraid of confronting you.

"Then you will tell her in a month."

"Pedro! Did you hit your head? I don't know what the two of you were arguing about, but... You always took such good care of her." Her words stung him painfully. "What if Tyler came back to her on purpose? If he only came back to get revenge? He's already deprived her of her apartment..."

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N lives with him, so if he kicks her out, then... Someone has to be there for her. Best if it will be someone strong who can protect her."

Pedro felt a rush of adrenaline. Did Laura just suggest you're in danger? Okay, here she had him.

"Send me those pictures and the address of that dick."

"Okay! Kick his ass!"

*

You were about to leave for the store when you heard the doorbell ring. So it was only natural that you shouted to the living room where Tyler was that you would open. But you soon regretted it. You lost your head when you saw Pedro. You wanted to hug him and punch him at the same time. How did he dare? He was standing in front of you looking like walking sex appeal. He was wearing light blue jeans and a white T-shirt that hugged his perfect body. His hair was a mess and you just wanted to, like in the old days, put your hand in his curls. But you couldn't, and it broke your heart.

"Pedro..."

"We need to talk."

"Ok..."

Just then, Tyler appeared behind you.

"Bunny, are you okay?"

You didn't even turn to him. You couldn't take your eyes off Pedro, who visibly winced upon hearing this pet name.

"Yes, can you..."

Before you could finish your sentence, Pedro walked inside closing the door behind him and saying:

"He stays."

You looked at him in horror. Would he do something like that to you? You've already lost him, and now you'd lose Tyler. Did Pedro really want to tell him the truth?

"Wait... Please don't do this" you whispered.

"Okay, I'd better show you the pictures right away."

God, pictures? Your mind started frantically replaying all the memories. Sure, you've had plenty of photos together, but none intimate. Unless... No. Pedro would never take a picture of you without your knowledge.

"Laura made them, but she can be trusted."

You heard Tyler moan behind you and blinked your eyes. You turned to your boyfriend.

"Y/N, I'm sorry, I..."

"You're cheating on her, dick!" growled Pedro.

"Fuck you, it's none of your business!" Tyler barked back.

Pedro wasn't going to let go.

"Yeah, mine, more than you think!"

"You don't know me and you don't know anything about me! You think that if you're a big Hollywood star you can destroy other people's lives!"

You stood between them in complete shock. You didn't even pay attention to what they were shouting at each other. At some point, you decided to stop it.

"Shut up, both of you!!!"

The men fell silent immediately. You looked at Pedro angrily.

"Enough of this. Go home."

Pedro looked at you, like a kicked puppy.

"But... will you forgive him?"

You looked at Tyler.

"No, but it's between me and him."

"You can't be alone with him."

"Because what will happen?" Tyler growled.

You stopped him from moving towards Pedro with your hand, and he obediently stopped.

"Tyler would never raise a hand on me. He wouldn't even yell at me." You saw that this remark hurt Pedro, but you were so angry. "Go now."

He gave you a sad look and said:

"Call me if you need help."

You silently walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch. Tyler sat next to you.

"So," you began, "can you explain it to me?"

Tyler nodded, took a deep breath, and spoke softly.

"After you turned down my engagement, I was a mess. And then by chance... I swear it was by chance. I met my old love. We went out for drinks. Turns out she was divorced, her husband had left her with two kids ... And I... We got drunk and ended up in bed together. The old feeling revived, but I swear, I was disgusted with myself. I didn't know what to do."

It was weird, but you felt no rage. You looked at Tyler calmly. You even understood him a little. If Laura had told you about this betrayal and you would meet Pedro in a bar...

"These are not photos from that night," you remarked.

Tyler lowered his head.

"No. She went back to her town and I wanted to talk to you. Then I saw how you were and... I didn't want to leave you. But I kept exchanging messages with her. I couldn't forget her. Two days ago I went to her to say goodbye to her, but... I don't know how it happened. I hugged her, kissed her... I don't know what to do next."

You saw that he was suffering and you felt sorry for him. You had to tell him the truth.

"Ty, do you love her? Tell me the truth."

"We were together three years..."

You grabbed his hand and waited for him to look you in the eye.

"Do. You. Love. Her?"

"Yes," he whined.

"Now listen to me carefully. I and Pedro were friends with benefits." Tyler looked at you shocked. "I didn't sleep with him when I was with you," you added quickly. "I never slept with him when I was in a relationship. But... I loved him. I love him," you corrected yourself. "That's what we had a fight about and the day you came back... I'm sorry but I was mourning the loss of my relationship with Pedro, not you"

Tyler was still holding your hand and sighed.

"I'm sorry, but that doesn't change the fact that I betrayed you."

"It doesn't matter. It would never have worked out. A relationship built on lies had no chance of surviving. But you have a chance to be happy. Tell this woman how you feel about her. Don't give up."

"And you?" he asked sadly.

You shrugged.

"I'll manage. I'll pack some of my things now and go to a motel. When I find a new apartment, I'll take the rest of my things."

"You don't have to, I'm to blame. I can..."

You got up from the couch and shook your head.

"Don't be angry, but I don't want to stay here."

After you had packed, Tyler came over to you and gave you a gentle hug.

"I'm sorry about everything. I'll drive you to that motel."

"No need, Pedro will drive me."

Tyler made a surprised face.

"But you told him to come home."

"Knowing life, he still stands on the street." You looked out the window and nodded your head. "Yes, it's still there."

"Wow, you really know him well."

"Not as good as I thought. Take care of yourself, okay."

"You too."

*

When Pedro saw you, he immediately ran over to you and grabbed your bag.

"Did you kick his ass?" You rolled your eyes. "I'm sorry Y/N..."

You showed him on your phone the address of the motel you had chosen earlier.

"Take me there."

He looked at you as if you had just said something insulting.

"You can come to me."

You wanted to laugh and ask about his blonde, but you weren't ready for another confrontation.

"Will you drive me or should I call a taxi?"

He sighed heavily and nodded his head. He opened the door for you and put your bag in the trunk. You were silent the whole way, and when you got there, Pedro followed you like a shadow. At the reception, on the way to the room, and finally in the room itself. He was standing there with those stupid puppy brown eyes of his that you hated and loved so much at the same time.

"Y/N?" He shifted restlessly from foot to foot. "Can we finally talk?"

You glared at him furiously. You suddenly wanted to pour out all your anger on him.

"We have nothing to talk about," you snapped.

You saw his shoulders drop and his hand restlessly rubbing his thigh. A clear indication that he was anxious. Formerly you would have stopped it immediately.

"Are you mad at me? Don't be mad at me, I was just the messenger. He betrayed you."

"Why did you tell me that? What? What the fuck was that for?" you growled.

In the past, you would never do that. You would have stopped at the moment when you saw the sadness in Pedro's eyes, but now... Now all you saw was the damn blonde in the bathrobe.

"I already told you that Laura..."

"You're not a child, Pedro!!! You could have refused her."

"And, what? Would you rather not know that dick is cheating on you?!"

"So what. I kept cheating on him!"

He stepped back slightly and frowned.

"What? But... We..."

"Every time I fucked him, I thought about you. Every fucking time!"

"It's not betrayal... Not real. You're a victim, you need help."

You burst out laughing.

"You show up here like some fucking knight in silver armor and you think you're saving me! You're the one who said you didn't want to love me."

Pedro took a step towards you but, seeing you tense, stopped.

"I know, I screwed up and I'm sorry. Please, let's talk."

You shook your head.

"No... Not today. I don't have the strength to talk to another man who can't choose the woman he loves."

Pedro scanned you for something to grab onto. Finally, he obviously saw that you were really tired and a conversation with you would not end well.

"Okay. But I'll be back here, you can be sure of that."

He leaned slightly towards you.

"Do what you want," you hissed.

You turned your back to him and started to take your stuff out of your bag. You sighed in relief as you heard the door close behind him. You turned the lock on the door and sat on the bed. You curled up into a ball but didn't cry. You had no more tears. You cried all of the tears when you found out Pedro had someone. And today, when he was so close to you, you just wanted to throw yourself into his arms. You wanted to cuddle up to him and tell him to stay because without him you lose the meaning of life. You couldn't do it. You just didn't have the strength.

And then there was Tyler. Part of you was really mad at him, but another part of you knew that your whole relationship was a lie. From the beginning. You would never have been with Tyler that long if Pedro had been around. You actually wanted to laugh. It was such an irony. Tyler loved that woman, but he didn't think he should, so he chose you. It sounded familiar.

*

Pedro couldn't drive away right away. For a long time, he was leaning against the hood of his car and staring at your room. You told him to leave again, but this time he hoped he could make amends. If you reject him again, he will come back again. No matter how many times you hurt him, he won't get you out of his heart. You were his curse and blessing.

*

Counting days, counting days

since my love up and got lost on me

And every breath that I’ve been taking

since you left feels like a waste on me

I’ve been holding on to hope

that you’ll come back when you can find some peace

Cause every word that I’ve heard spoken

since you left feels like an hollow street

 I’ve been told, I’ve been told to get you off my mind

But I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind

Oh my Lord, oh my Lord, I need you by my side

Lewis Capaldi - Bruises

Part V

Part VII - Final

A/N: Okay, so this isn't my best chapter, but I had to get rid of Tyler somehow. And I know some of you will be wondering, why didn't she yell at him? why did she take all her anger out on Pedro? And my answer is simple. Those we love hurt us the most. She had never loved Tyler, so his betrayal was not such a shock to her. On the other hand, she loves Pedro, so she's still mad at him for rejecting her and for finding someone else. And she thinks Pedro just showed up to tell about Tyler's betrayal.

And I promise we'll all get a happy Pedro in the next chapter.

(And did you see how wonderful husband is Tyler Hoechlin in "Superman and Lois". How can I angry at him?)

[ashsostrange]

it’s stand on business o’clock, cz i know y’all sick gw*les & p*nkflower shippers + delulu gwen stans ain’t try to run my girl bree (@breeandhermunches) off her blog… you got me all the way fucked up and ima tag this in ALL the categories. you can’t do anything about it 🤣 if you’re upset, then scroll ho. if you know i’m not talking about you, then have a great day! 🫶 if the shoe fits, then wear it.

i’m getting disrespectful. ima return the energy you hoes dished out n you better take it like some mf champs. y’all wanted to fuck around so now you gotta hear my mouth and find out. read it ‘n weep. clearing you bitches gives me life.

such a shame we’re back here, but y’all are mad, mad miserable. like, i’ve never seen a fandom so chronically online. are you even trying to mask the fact that you rarely step outside anymore…? 😬

let me making it so very clear why i’m making this post in the first place, bc y’all seem to struggle with my main concerns never clicking in your heads.

y’all have the time to sit in somebody’s inbox and complain about their hatred towards fictional ships, meanwhile the people y’all complain about stay on their pages and mind their business? 🤨 those people being US. ion recall none of us going directly to YOUR pages to hate on punkflower and gwiles. if we hate, it’s on our pages. i don’t go looking for a mf fight, that’s mad childish. y’all were riding bree’s dick like crazy. at this point, her hate for gwiles must keep y’all up at night. talk to a therapist about that. it’s not healthy. i’m gna address ALL the bs y’all be on.

so now that you know why i’m posting this, let me set few things straight for y’all.

“don’t use the ship tag to hate! 🤬🤬” the day you copyright and trademark the tag, present me with an official “tumblr etiquette” rule book or, show me proof that you own tumblr is the day i’ll stop. ima do wtv i want whenever i want, please get that thru ya hollow ass heads. y’all aren’t entitled to anything. not respect, not no damn “common courtesy,” ESPECIALLY not over dysfunctional ships/fictional characters 🤣 i don’t owe you SHIT.

some of were y’all tryna go back and forth with me at the grown ass age of TWENTY. over GWILES. a sixteen yr old vs a twenty yr old, see your life 😂😂 it’s truly alarming. go get employed. if you alr are, then call your manager and pick up some more shifts bc you clearly ain’t doing enough. if college graduation rates begin to decline, i know exactly who to come to. everything’s going up and even tho you should be standing on some mf business so you can afford the cost of living, you’re arguing with teenagers online instead. a lot of you have too much free time.

“you posted this publicly under the tag, you can’t expect people not to want to argue” yes i can! block me and scroll. we don’t have to argue. i don’t remember starting an argument? i was never on your pages. i only reblog shit when it appears on my dash. like i said, i’m not searching far n wide for no damn fight. 🤷‍♀️ nobody told y’all to bitch, whine, and reblog mine or bree’s shit. your issue is that you have no self control. you don’t know when to hold yourself tf back, so you feel obligated to reply. god forbid someone has a differing opinion. my post was never even about the flaws in miles and gwen’s relationship. i was talking about how it is disappointing to see miles’ story be reduced to a love story. unfortunately, y’all forgot to put your glasses on beforehand and read “i hate gwiles.” yes, i hate gwiles!!! but that was not the point of my post. y’all are either illiterate or trying to let off some serious steam. i’m not having any of it. maybe y’all are upset i called you delusional, but you’ve effortlessly proven my point.

this is the internet. you have the tools to avoid seeing what me n bree hv to say, so why are you throwing a tantrum like a goddamn child instead of utilizing them?? you’re not special. the world doesn’t revolve around you and what you want. people are dying n you’re worried about a hate post under a ship tag?? mind you, that was the one and only “hate post” i’ve EVER put under that fuckass tag 😭 bree will make one post about gwiles, and y’all are the ones who’ll drag it out, then call her “obsessed.”we’re doomed bc y’all are doomed.

the white mfs complaining ab the term “snow bunny”… jesus 🤦‍♀️ ts didn’t even mean what you think it meant in the first place. it was originally used to refer to female skiers. some of y’all swear up, down, n all around that being “racist” to white people is the same as racism towards black people, and it’s not. let’s use “snow bunny” and the n-word as examples:

snow bunny had an alternative use before it was used to refer to white people. there’s no significant history behind it at all, unless you count tiktok as history. the n word has always been the n word. it’s always been derogatory, and anyone will a brain would know it’s mad history behind the word. it roots in deep hatred. people continue to use this word to belittle those who are black, or use it lightly around their friends nd behind closed doors as if it’s a common cuss word. y’all’s experiences with “racism” are nowhere near comparable to the experiences black people have BEEN facing and will be facing for fucking ever. white people have and always will be seen as the superior race, therefore, you face minimal to no “racism” outside of the internet, and i’d do anything to be able to say that. don’t even @ me talking about “🥹🥹 that doesn’t make racism against white people oka—“ i don’t care. at all. drink some water. you’ll be fine.

“you guys hate women!!!” “y’all hate gwen bc she’s white!!” like, you sound so fkn dumb nd all i can do is sit and stare at you.

me nd bree are black girls. people from EVERY race and EVERY ethnicity hate black people and EVERYONE hates black girls. hell, not even black men like us. why on god’s green mf earth would we ever want sb else to feel that way??

yk what y’all need to do? y’all need to quit whining and accept the fact that bree doesn’t like gwen because of what she did to miles. it’s as simple as that. stop trying to complicate things bc you so desperately want to deem her and other people who hate gwen “racists” or “misogynists.” no. i fw gwen heavy, nd me and bree are able to coexist bc neither of us are fucking delusional and regularly touch grass 🤷‍♀️ same thing with all my other mutuals.

meanwhile, you hoes get your panties in a twist when sb calls gwen a snow bunny as if she’s a sentient being who’s going to cry over ts, like, no. your feelings are hurt? take a fucking walk! nobody has to like her.

and punkflower, oh my god 😐 i’ve never been homophobic and i never will be. i’m literally queer. i’m not about that friendly fire before y’all try and call me homophobic. my thing is, if hobie was originally supposed to be a nineteen year old, n now his age is unconfirmed, why in the hell would we go and age him down to sixteen?? all y’all wna do is ship that man with miles or write smut about him. some of y’all wanna do both!! you change his age when it’s convenient to you. if you don’t see an issue with that, then i can’t help you. you’re weird. until i hear otherwise from one of the directors, he’s 19.

ghostflower or gwiles 🙃 the reason y y’all are sobbing or wtv. i thought y’all were exaggerating when you said gwiles was your religion, but it’s looking like i was very incorrect. real talk, ion like that fuckass ship. i don’t have to and neither does anybody else. just like you lames do with gwen, you dig deep in your ass for every problematic reason possible. “you have a racial bias!!!” “you hate interracial relationships!!” the fuck?? 😭 do you cunts read what you write before you post it?? “they’re more obsessed with gwiles than we are” “they must be in love with ghostflower & gwen”

…huh? covid really set some of y’all back tremendously because it seems a concerning amount of you lack critical thinking skills. in reality, just like hating gwen, the reason we dislike gwen and miles together is SO very simple. it all boils down to the fact that gwen did miles dirt. and i’ve made a separate post, i’ve talked about why they would never work imo. when i present y’all with my logical reasoning, you dgaf! so the only thing you can do now is shut the hell up, unclench, and cope. since you wna get in your feelings bout it, fuck gwiles, n fuck you too.

y’all even got some of your own people agreeing w me, props to y’all btw 👏 it’s never you i’m talking about.

i hate that y’all made it this deep bc it didn’t need to be. this is a fucking movie. none of this is real, yet you continue to harass me and bree like we murdered your immediate + extended family + the family dog that had cancer. i find myself hoping that one day y’all will realize how dumb you sound, but then i remember some of you niggas are already grown, so it’s looking quite improbable.

and also, don’t b up in my reblogs chattin’ it up about shit i’ve explicitly stated that idc about. i won’t repeat myself because you can’t read. if this post hasn’t shown you i don’t give even half of a fuck about you or your feelings regarding ANYTHING at this point in time, then i don’t really know what will 🤷‍♀️

if i made you mad, go ahead nd suck it up fa me. we won’t be going toe to toe and debating on MY blog because you’ll be actively wasting your own time, as i am not willing to hear anyone out. it’s been that way from the start and it won’t change. if you send an anon message or any type of inbox w some bs then it’ll sit there until the end of time or be swiftly deleted. if you reblog this post trying to invalidate anything i just addressed, i won’t even give you the time of day, bc i said everything that needed to said. i was very articulate and extremely clear. know that i can’t and won’t be swayed in the slightest. we’d just go back and forth until you decide to shut your mouth or block me. so block me now. ian the one.

if you don’t get it, then you don’t fucking get it, but what y’all aren’t gna do is treat people the way y’all were treating bree just because she hates two ships + gwen stacy. you complain about how the fandom sucks like you’re not the same people who make being in fandoms in unenjoyable.

you usually have to go to a therapist and pay for reality checks. luckily for y’all, i gave you one for free! you needed to be humbled and i happily did the humbling. lil piece of advice: stop trying to force people to gaf if they clearly do not. block and move on with your life. you gon get tired one day. leave me, bree, n anyone else you bother tf alone. spend your energy trying to change people’s minds on REAL ISSUES that actually matter, not fucking spider-man.

whew, ANYWAY… i hope i never have to speak bout this again. act right in the near future n i won’t have to “invade your tags” with long paragraphs in which i set you fools straight, thank yewww! 🫶

god bless!! 💗

[heliads]

everything is blue • conrisa space au • Chapter Nineteen: Call Up the Cavalry

Risa Ward escaped a shuttle destined for her certain, painful death. Connor Lassiter ran away from home before it was too late. Lev Calder was kidnapped. All of them were supposed to be dissected for parts, used to advance a declining galaxy, but as of right now, all of them are whole. Life will not stay the same way forever.

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Connor fears that this might be the moment at which he finally goes mad.

He’s undergone enough to make the snap happen, at least. How much bending can a mind take before it breaks? How many separations, how much running, how much death and chaos can one teenage boy undergo before he starts to lose himself? Connor wouldn’t be surprised if this is all a hallucination cooked up by a brain that doesn’t want to separate itself from its familiar skull.

However, just why Connor would hallucinate this tithe of all people, he can’t understand. He stands there, blinking at the blond kid, until the figure of Lev Calder sighs, cracks a grin, and says, “Hey, Connor. Long time, no see.”

This, truly, is how Connor knows this has got to be fake. “Since when have you been friendly?” Connor asks doubtfully.

One of the teenagers next to Connor chokes out a laugh. “Lev, I thought you said you were friends with this guy.”

“I am,” Lev says, flashing the stranger a dour glare so severe that Connor is immediately thrust into more than a year of memories. Yes, that’s Lev alright. No one can cast judgment quite like a boy who’s worn tithing whites all his life.

Lev clears his throat pretentiously and motions for Connor to continue into the house. “Surprised to see me?”

“Surprised would be an understatement,” Connor remarks. “Do I have a concussion or something?”

Lev grins again. “I would make a terrible figment of your imagination, but that’s beside the point. No, Connor, you’re not dreaming. I should hope not, it’s taken ages to track you down. Hasn’t anyone told you to stop moving around all the time?”

“Yeah, the Proactive Citizenry,” Connor says wryly. “The two of you can argue over custody claims for me.”

Lev’s face tightens. “Trust me, there’s nothing I’d like to do more than poke a fight with the PC. They’re no friends of ours.”

Connor arches a disbelieving brow. “Really? Because the last time I saw you, you couldn’t get to a harvest colony fast enough. I seem to remember you arguing with Risa and I in an effort to turn the ship around when we saved your ungrateful ass.”

It’s difficult to keep the bite out of his words. Even though it’s been more than a year, Connor still hasn’t forgiven the kid for the stunt he pulled back in the boundary checkpoint leaving the OH-10 sector. When Lev had sounded the alarm, Connor and Risa had been forced to go on the run again, requiring the help of a sympathetic checkpoint worker for them to escape undetected. Even so, they’d barely made it out alive, and no thanks to Lev.

One of Lev’s friends doesn’t seem to take kindly to Connor’s hostility. He starts to move towards Connor, but Lev waves him off with a small gesture of his hand. Connor watches all this with faint curiosity– since when has the short tithe been able to inspire this kind of loyalty– but doesn’t say a word.

Lev picks up on his lingering irritation. “I wouldn’t blame you for being annoyed with me for how things ended in OH-10. None of us do,” he says smoothly, aiming a pointed glare at his vocal friend before carrying on. “I was a different kid back then. I didn’t know the importance of staying alive. I thought distribution was saving the world. Then I learned otherwise.”

Connor sits forward in his seat, unable to disguise his curiosity. “What changed your mind?”

Lev smiles softly. “Actually, I started having second thoughts the moment I turned you guys in. I couldn’t shake the guilt I felt, thinking that I had sent you guys to your deaths. I slipped away in the chaos when the checkpoint cops were trying to find you, and ended up hitching a ride on a mass transit shuttle. It was going to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, which I figured would be a good way to start clearing my head. Along the way, I met up with these guys. They call themselves the Chancefolk.”

Connor glances at the assembled group. None of them seem to be from the same place, all different heights and builds, different complexions, but the same haunted look in their eyes. Whatever they’ve been through, it’s been just as long and winding a road to walk as Connor’s.

“The Chancefolk?” Connor repeats. “I’ve never heard that name before.”

“I would be surprised if you had,” Lev tells him. “The Chancefolk are the native people of the galaxy. The group you see before you is only a small fraction of their true number.”

Connor turns to face him, startled. “I thought the Collective wiped out all of the native species from the worlds they conquered. People, plants, animals, everything.”

“Think again,” says a woman from the back. “The Collective would love you to believe that they’re the supreme authority on everything, but they couldn’t be more wrong. They miscalculated and mishandled the galaxy, but we’ve been maintaining the worlds all along. There are pockets of us in every system if you know where to look. We may keep our heads low, but that doesn’t mean we can’t look around and see where we need to be.”

Connor nods slowly. “I can’t believe none of us ever knew about you.”

“The Collective’s got a pretty good propaganda blanket across the galaxy, but I have a feeling that times are changing,” Lev tells him. “For one thing, you’ve got a friend who’s pushing that boundary.”

Connor breaks into a grin despite himself. “Don’t tell me you’ve been tuning in to Radio Free Hayden? Even in your outer rim hideaway?”

Lev chuckles. For a moment, he looks younger again, more like the boy Connor remembers meeting, and then promptly abducting, all that time ago at the beginning of it all. “Of course we did. That’s how I knew you and Risa were still alive, actually. I turned to his frequency one day and heard the three of you joking around like you’d never had a care in the world.”

The smile lingers on Lev’s face for a moment longer, but then his expression sobers again. “Speaking of Risa, where is she? From the way you two used to talk on that radio show, I thought you were joined at the hip, but you showed up here by yourself. Did something happen?”

A wave of grief washes over Connor again, even stronger from its absence. “Something bad. We were ambushed by the PC. She sacrificed herself so I could get away.”

Lev closes his eyes momentarily in grief. “I’ll pray for her. In the meantime, what do you say we break her out of there? We were planning a raid anyway. I think it’s time to show the PC that they’re not nearly as strong as they think they are.”

Connor nods excitedly. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do. In the meantime, there are a few things you guys should know about the PC before we draft a plan.”

The Chancefolk draw closer as Connor tells them about Dorian Heartland. He sees the outrage in their expressions, the pain and agony of knowing that their centuries-old foe is still alive. Judging by the steely resolve in their eyes, though, Heartland’s over-extended life may not continue for that much longer. Not if Connor has anything to say about it.

In the end, they walk away from that meeting with a plan. To take on Heartland and the PC, they’ll need an army. However, between the Chancefolk scattered across the galaxy and a fair number of personal friends that Connor and Risa have made along the way, they’re halfway there, and that’s not a bad start. First, though, they’ll need someone capable of uniting the worlds behind their cause, and he’s imprisoned in a harvest colony waiting to die.

“You’re certain this is going to work?” Connor asks for the tenth time. They’re approaching the exterior of the harvest complex now, nearing a service entrance at the back with weapons drawn, but even though they’ve been through the plan many times, all Connor can imagine are possible avenues of error.

“It’ll be fine,” Lev assures him yet again. “Listen, you saved my life when we first met, even if I didn’t appreciate it then. Let me help you out now. I’ve been owing you that favor for a while.”

“Don’t I know it,” Connor mutters under his breath, but he shuts up and lets himself believe in the idea that this might work.

Una Jacali, one of Lev’s closest friends among the Chancefolk, is leading the expedition. She looks as if she might be ready to assassinate Dorian Heartland herself using nothing more than her bare hands and raw anger should they accidentally cross paths. Connor never thought he’d say this, but he actually feels bad for the guy. Having someone as unbreakable as Una on your tail can’t be good.

Una signals to them, counting down from three with a free hand. When she lowers her hand, the explosives they’ve placed on the far side of the harvest complex go up in a fiery rage, drawing the attention of all nearby cops far away from them. The group sneaks through the service entrance and into the shadowy halls. Una and Connor fire at guards when they need to, but their path to the harvest colony is surprisingly clear, likely thanks to the inferno distraction still sending wailing klaxons through the complex.

“They’ll all be in the dorms thanks to the alarm,” Lev tells them. “We should head there now.”

“Remember, Hayden is our first priority,” Connor urges them. “Get everyone out, of course, but we have to make sure he’s safe.”

“Or at least his voice box,” Una supplies. “He can be shot in the leg and be fine.”

Connor shoots her a dour look. “The whole body needs to be fine, Una. He’s our friend.”

Una doesn’t acknowledge this with anything more than a raised eyebrow, which makes Lev clap a hand to his mouth in an attempt to silence his bout of laughter. “We hear you, Connor,” the former tithe says when he manages to get himself under control. “Hayden Upchurch won’t be harmed.”

Connor would appreciate a little more confidence on that front than just the word of Lev, but then again, the boy’s done this well in getting them thus far, he might as well have a little more faith. If anything, the religious upbringing in the younger boy would appreciate some good honest hope.

The group of rescuers breaks into the central portion of the harvest complex when the service corridor ends. Immediately, shots break out as several guards notice them. Evidently not every soldier had been sent to check out the disturbance.

“Go on,” Una urges Connor and Lev. “We’ll hold them off.”

Connor shouts his thanks, then takes off towards the dorms, Lev just behind them. Surprisingly, Lev manages to keep up, even despite his shorter stature. “Since when did you learn to run this quickly?” Connor asks, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Lev chuckles. “A lot happened in the Outer Rim. I’ll have to tell you sometime, but the stories would take a while.”

There’s a dark glint in Lev’s eyes, one Connor doesn’t quite recognize from the short window of time they’d spent together a lifetime ago on the stolen shuttle of a Juvey-cop. Connor makes a mental note to sit Lev down once they get out of here and ask him just what in sunfire happened in the year since they last saw each other.

That is, of course, assuming they do get out of here. It is not lost on Connor that Heartland brought all the AWOLs from the Graveyard here to trap Connor once and for all. Although Connor and Risa already sprung that trap in the synth-park, there’s no telling if Heartland had a backup scheme that could be playing out right now. All Connor can do is keep running, and hope to all the heavenly bodies that this, at last, is something the immortal murderer didn’t see coming.

The two of them reach the door to the dorms. A quick blast from Connor’s gun sears through the lock, and he kicks it open. The door surges forward on its hinges, and hasn’t even opened all the way before Connor sprints through it. Kids are everywhere inside– sitting in the corner, talking in quiet voices, poking their heads out of doors, all of them staring at Connor with these wide eyes. It occurs to him that they might be afraid of him. When did he become something worth their terror?

Then a girl near him stands up with a start. “Connor?”

He recognizes her vaguely from the Graveyard, and although they never personally met, Connor seizes this opportunity to get back control of the situation. “Yes,” he says as loudly as he can, “It’s me, Connor Lassiter. From the Graveyard. I’m here to get you guys to safety. There are some men and women outside, they’ll help you to our shuttle.”

Too afraid to believe their good luck, no one moves at first. Connor takes a few more steps inside. “Come on, hurry. Unless you guys want to wait around and get distributed?”

That does it. The girl who’d spoken to Connor earlier hastens to the door, pokes her head out, then quickly waves to the rest of the distributes to get going. “He’s right, none of the guards can get us. Hurry, everybody.”

The teenagers follow the girl, pouring out of the dorms in a shouting, cheering wave of kids. Connor can’t help a smile as he watches the life spark back into their eyes. They’ve got a shot again, and he helped to give it to them. Maybe, just maybe, he can finally make up for what he’s done. He can reverse the tides. Little by little, Connor Lassiter can get back into the good graces of the universe.

Connor pushes further into the crowd, checking each face as he passes for Hayden or, with pitifully shrinking hope, Risa. He doesn’t really think Risa will be here, if he was in the mood for being honest with himself. She’s too important a prisoner for Heartland to just toss her in here with the rest. Still, it would make his rescue attempt very efficient if he could get both Risa and Hayden out of here in only one shot. He’ll have to suggest to Heartland that he re-organize his method of exterminating teenagers so Connor is best served by it.

The ridiculousness of that thought makes Connor smirk to himself as he wades further inside. It’s a little difficult to get through as everyone inside does their damndest to get out as fast as they can. Painfully, it reminds Connor of the mass stampede inside the doomed Graveyard when they had been found out.

Just like back then, too, Connor looks up across the crowd to find someone lingering on the outskirts, someone blond and tall who makes eye contact with Connor and breaks into this wild, bright grin that Connor hasn’t seen except in his nightmares in a very long time.

Immediately, Connor throws himself against the crowd until he’s in front of the boy. For a moment, he just stares, and then he wraps his arms around his friend, squeezing him until he almost thinks he’s forced the air from the other boy’s lungs.

“Hayden,” he says emphatically.

Hayden Upchurch, because of course it is he, hugs Connor back so hard that he picks Connor off of the ground entirely before letting him back down again. “Connor! Suns, I heard a few of the religious kids talking about how they got guardian angels when they died, but I didn’t think I’d get such a heroic one. I’ve got a poster of you up on my wall, do you want to see it?”

Connor chokes out a laugh, eliciting a proud grin from Hayden when they finally break apart. “Yeah, I totally believe that the PC let you have an Akron AWOL poster in their harvest colony. That’s such a bad joke, man.”

Hayden snorts. “They only allowed me to put it up because I promised I’d get them a signed copy. Do you carry a pen with you, or should I get one of my own? You know I have to honor my promises.”

Connor just grins. “How about you keep your promise to shoot those starspawn in the legs if you ever saw them again?”

“That sounds good to me, too,” Hayden assures him. “Now come on, I want to get out of here. I don't fancy the idea of spending any more time, even in these fine living conditions.”

Connor casts one last glance over Hayden’s shoulder, but the throngs of AWOLs have already started to disperse, and he doesn’t see a particular brunette girl anywhere. “Hayden– you haven’t seen–” 

He can’t quite get the words out, but Hayden, careful as ever, figures out what he’s trying to say. He puts a sympathetic hand on Connor’s shoulder, gently but firmly steering him out of the dorms. “No, Connor. Risa isn’t here. I’ve been looking out for both of you in case either of you turned up, you know that, but she never showed. I’m sorry, man.”

“No problem,” Connor says with a heavy heart. “I didn’t really think she’d end up here, anyway.”

“The two of you split?” Hayden asks, surprised. “I thought you were together forever.”

Connor shoots him a questionable frown. “What in the stars are you talking about?”

Hayden chuckles, even as stray gunfire from the cops rakes towards them. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The two of you were practically joined at the hip. It used to drive me crazy in the Graveyard, actually. Jeevan and I had a bet going on how long it would take the two of you to finally spill your lovesick little guts. Speaking of which, how long did it take?”

Hayden spares one quick glance at Connor’s face as the two of them run towards the exit and winces. “Don’t tell me you never said a thing. Connor, you’ve been leading that poor girl on for months.”

“It’s not that,” Connor protests. “And come on, seriously? A bet? I didn’t even realize I liked her until just recently.”

At the entrance to the service hallway, Lev joins them just early enough to hear the end of the conversation. “You’re talking about Risa, right? How they act like they’re supposed to be together forever?”

“Yes,” Hayden says emphatically. “Thank you.”

Connor sputters. “That’s absurd. Lev, Risa and I were arguing like crazy when you were there. Don’t join Hayden’s side, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You should absolutely join Hayden’s side,” Hayden says. “Hayden is always right.”

“He’s right about this,” Lev says as they race down the corridor. Then, to Hayden, “It’s the way they look at each other, right? They can’t stop staring. At first, I thought he had an eye problem or something.”

“Hey,” Connor complains, but Hayden just throws up his arms in victory.

“Exactly! The staring thing! Suns, they were hopeless. You’d think they got married years ago.”

“Can we please focus on getting out of here without dying?” Connor begs.

Were they anywhere but here, he’s certain he would have been ignored, but the rapid gunfire of Juvey-cops can derail any conversation. “Fine, but we’re definitely talking about this later,” Hayden warns.

“I’ll do my best to miss it,” Connor grumbles under his breath. Maybe he should have insisted that Lev stay back at the house, or told him that he wouldn’t ever get along with Hayden so he shouldn’t bother trying. Anything to avoid whatever surreal hell this is.

It takes a while to get all of the Graveyard AWOLs back to the house Lev’s friends are using as their hideout. The journey isn’t totally smooth, either:  two Chancefolk and three distributes get shot as they’re running. Although the wounds aren’t life-threatening, every person with an injury is out of the final rescue, and Connor needs every single soul he can get so they’re not totally outnumbered.

Once back inside, Connor and Lev sit Hayden down to explain their plan. At the end, Hayden stares at both of them, obviously baffled. “I’m sorry, you want me to do another radio show? And that’s going to save the galaxy?”

Lev nods. “You would be surprised how many people can be saved just by hearing one voice. Or how many already have. You’re well known in the groups of people protecting AWOLs. What you need is to reach everybody else. Sound the alarm so they know it’s time to come out of hiding.”

Hayden shakes his head in disbelief. “This plan makes no sense. If the galaxy can hear me, so can the Proactive Citizenry. They’ll know we’re coming, and they way outnumber us, especially if we tell them when and where we’re attacking.”

“They already know we’re going to attack,” Connor assures him. “They knew that the second they took Risa. The only thing they’re not expecting is how many people are going to show up. If they hear your broadcast, fine. Heartland is assuming that everyone is going to brush it off again like they have all this time.”

“And we’re sure that they won’t just brush it off again?” Hayden asks, clearly dubious.

“I’m sure,” Lev answers. “I’ve been traveling all over the world since Connor convinced me to abandon my tithing. I’ve seen a lot of people in a lot of places, but everywhere, they’re starting to wonder if distribution is really the right way to go. We’ve got a serious chance now of changing their minds.”

Connor nods in agreement. “That’s the problem with Heartland, he’s gotten overconfident. He assumes that things will be the same way they’ve always been, but that’s not the case anymore. Times are changing, even if he hasn’t realized it yet. The time of distribution is over. We get to live again.”

Hayden whistles under his breath. “Damn, nice speech. Are we sure you’re not the one who should be making this broadcast?”

Connor chuckles. “Trust me, man, you’re the one with the star power. It’s your show, we’re all just along for the ride.”

Hayden’s bright spark of a grin shines again. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a better thing. Out of curiosity, how in sunfire is my broadcast reaching the entire galaxy? I mean, my old signal barely made it a few star systems over. There’s no way I can reach everybody on my old tech, plus it was all blown up when the Graveyard went nuclear. Unless the two of you went scavenger hunting around that wreck, we need more comms equipment.”

“Consider that settled,” Lev says. “I’ve got some stuff from an anonymous donor, really nice gear. They’ll be able to hear you from Centerworld all the way to the outer reaches.”

Hayden rubs his hands together excitedly. “In that case, I think it’s time for a show.”

Lev takes the two of them to the room where they’ve been storing the comms gear. He informs them that the Chancefolk have been using this place as a home base for technology and missions operations, hence why so much equipment has been stored up. Hayden’s eyes light up when he sees the new gear, and can’t contain his excitement as he rattles off all the specs of this top-notch equipment. Several times, he has to be reminded that he’s not just here to sightsee, but actually record something.

At last, after some quick tune-ups and test runs, Hayden finds his old frequency and starts to talk. He planned out a loose script with them beforehand, mainly just a few talking points, but they’re more than happy to let Hayden run wild with whatever he comes up with. So long as it gets to the main conclusion in the end, of course.

“I’m not dead,” Hayden announces dramatically to the microphone, “That may come as a surprise to some of you, given the recent lapse in broadcasts, but Radio Free Hayden is still alive, and so am I. So are runaway distributes across the galaxy, or so I hear. Personally, I have Connor Lassiter to thank for my survival. We’re still alive. AWOLs, if you’re listening, I hope you’re still out there, still whole. I’m glad to be back, but I need something from you.”

Hayden takes a deep breath before continuing. “The Collective wants your pieces. All we did was live, and yet total strangers are perfectly willing to tear us apart just because our parents and State Homes gave the say-so. I know this is wrong, and so do you, listeners. However, for once we’ve got a chance to fight back. I need you all to come to Dandrich-IV. Yes, in Centerworld. We’re making a stand against the Collective, and that means we have to go to their home base. I’ll relay the coordinates in time, but I need everyone to show up and be willing to fight. I’m sure all of you remember Risa Ward, a good friend of mine and Connor’s. We need to save her life, listeners, just as she saved your lives by proving that AWOLs could exist out there in the open sky. She’s our friend, and she’s your friend. Let’s get her back.”

Hayden sends a nervous glance Connor’s way, but Connor just responds with a single thumbs up. Hayden’s doing great, now he has to send it home. “We were never meant to survive for long, you know. The Graveyard proved otherwise. Connor and Risa and I, we did our best to show you that we’re real kids, worthy of living even if someone decided otherwise. I know that we deserve to live. We all know it. The Collective is trying to make you think that the fate of the galaxy depends on all of us dying for the cause, but that’s not true.”

“There is nothing any of us can do. We are children. We are kids. As a species, it takes us years to be able to tie our own shoelaces. We’re not even able to drive a hovercar until almost a fifth of our life has gone by. Why, then, is it that the burden of fixing an entire society falls to us? Maybe it’s because we’re the only ones left to care. We’re going to die anyway, listeners. We might as well die doing something worthwhile. Follow me to Dandrich-IV. We’re going to make a stand. We will be heard. And if we lose our lives out there, at least it’s more living than we would have done if we’d been distributed at the start.”

Connor’s heart is pounding in his chest. Surrounded by his equipment, Hayden’s lip curls. “Besides, our enemy won’t understand what it’s like to fear for his life. Did you know that the head of the Proactive Citizenry hasn’t been honoring his promise to only give distributed parts back to the galaxy? The CEO of the PC is a man named Dorian Heartland. If that name sounds familiar, it’s because he’s been around since old-Earth days. He’s been cheating death by swapping out his own rotting parts with fresh ones from kids. To all the adult listeners out there, do you think your children deserve to die so some rich guy out there can have eternal life? To the new generation, do you want your life to go to some man who’s already had more than his fair share of lifetimes?”

“We’re taking back our lives, listeners. We’re winning the war. I want to see you at the gates of the PC. I want you to make a change that generations after us will remember. I’m sending you the coordinates now. If you believe in life, I’ll meet you there. One last time, I’m signing off with everyone’s favorite tune. And remember– the truth will keep you whole.”

With that, Hayden decisively presses the button to end his recording. The grainy beats of some old-Earth song fills the room. Hayden closes his eyes, basking in the sound, his chest rising and falling dramatically. Connor, too, feels as if he’s undergone some great physical exertion, and all he was doing was listening.

When the last bars of the song fade from Connor’s ears, he breathes out unsteadily, not sure what to do in the face of this sudden stillness. “That was incredible,” he says.

Hayden cracks a tired grin. “Thanks. Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.”

Lev shakes his head in awe. “Not a chance. Man, if you hadn’t been slated for distribution– if you could have lived a normal life– you would have made a killing as an actor or something. You’ve got a knack for speeches.”

Hayden’s face twists. “A lot would have happened if we’d had normal lives. You’d still be with your families. I’d be with mine. They had a lot of rich actor friends. Maybe they would have sent me into that life. Who knows.”

Connor’s heart sinks at the grief plainly written on Hayden’s face. “A lot would have changed if we were never supposed to be distributed. We probably never would have met. I’d be a completely different person.”

“So would I,” Lev echoes hollowly.

“So would I,” Hayden repeats, his voice distant and toneless. All of a sudden, his head snaps up, and he makes eye contact with both of them in a row, quick and fierce. “I’m glad we met. I didn’t want to die, obviously, but I’m glad to have you guys. And Risa, and Jeevan, and everybody else. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything, but I do want to end the circumstances that brought us together. It doesn’t mean I like you guys any less, just that–”

His voice breaks off unevenly, but Connor can fill in the gaps. “Just that no one else should have to die even though we lived.”

“Exactly,” Hayden says.

Lev nods slowly. “We’ve got a chance to turn things around. All we have to do is wait and see how many people heard your signal.”

Although he hates to break the tentative peace that’s settled over them, Connor still has to ask:  “What if nobody comes?”

Lev looks at him with grim determination. “Then we go in alone, and save Risa or die trying. We won’t hide in the shadows anymore. And if we die in there, then our blood is on the hands of everyone who didn’t participate. Maybe that’ll move them even more than Hayden’s speech.”

The back of Connor’s throat is raw like acid, but he makes a sound of agreement. Lev is right. Whatever happens from here on out, Connor will still go into Dorian Heartland’s center, and he will find Risa. Maybe he’ll have an army at his back, maybe he’ll only have a couple of friends. But Risa will be found, and for once, Heartland won’t have the last laugh. That, at least, he can guarantee.

They allow themselves a couple of standard hours for everyone to show up. As it turns out, they don’t have to wait that long. Within half an hour, ships are already starting to tune up. Voices are popping up on Hayden’s frequency, different people chartering trips together or announcing that they’ll be meeting Hayden on Dandrich-IV. It occurs to Connor, listening to all of these strangers he’s never met saying that they’ll follow him to death or salvation, that he may have started a revolution, or at least helped build a spark into a blaze.

If this inferno consumes them all, at least Connor’s last hours will have been something bright, something beautiful. He’s had an awful lot of time to run and hide. At some point, he has to turn that restless energy into a fight. Now is the time.

He’s interrupted from his reverie by Lev running into the room. The younger boy can hardly manage a word, too excited by something outside. He gestures for Connor to follow, and Connor doesn’t need any extra encouragement, breaking into a run as the two boys hurry from the room.

Lev leads Connor to the door of the house, then pushes it open. Connor stands for a moment on the threshold, blinking in the light, staring in abject astonishment at all of the faces looking expectantly at him. Some are strangers. There are adults and children, bodies young and old. Some bear the wounds of previous fights. Others wear clothes so nice Connor is certain that they must have come from Centerworld itself. All in all, there are dozens of people scattered around the road leading to their hideout, maybe even hundreds, and more arrive by the minute.

“So many people,” he chokes out in a daze.

Hayden emerges from the house by his side, holding up a hand to wave to the gathered crowds with a dazzling grin. “Turns out a lot more people believe in the cause than you think. Still having trouble believing that we’ll win?”

“Not anymore,” Connor manages. “I mean, I didn’t even know that many strangers knew who I was.”

“They’re not just strangers,” Lev corrects.

And, looking out at the throngs of people, Connor realizes that he’s right. Shading his eyes from the sun, he recognizes Bam, Mai, Diego, and the rest of the group that had saved him when Heartland first tried to get to Connor. He leaves his friends at the doorstep, weaving through the crowds until he’s in front of them.

“You guys came,” he says in a daze.

Bam nods impatiently, although she can’t seem to hide a proud grin. “You kept your promise.”

“Plus, someone wanted to meet her hero,” Mai adds. Bam elbows her in the ribs, but the embarrassment on the girl’s face shows some truth to the statement.

“Go talk to him,” Connor encourages. “Hayden always likes meeting new people.”

He doesn’t stick around to see if Bam goes or not, distracted by another face in the crowds.

At first, he can’t quite place the old woman in the security uniform, but then she sighs deeply at the confusion on his face and the name instantly comes back to him. “Sonia?” Connor asks in astonishment. It’s the woman who rescued him and Risa at the OH-10 boundary checkpoint.

“Don’t look so surprised, boy,” Sonia says irritably. “I saved you once before, I assumed I’d have to do it again. Didn’t expect this sort of support, though.”

For once, the perpetual glower on her face lightens into a half smile. “I’m proud, Connor Lassiter. This change is a long time coming.”

“It is,” Connor agrees. Another figure emerging from the crowd calls his attention yet again, and he heads past Sonia to come to a stop in front of one particular cyborg that Connor never thought he’d see again.

At first, all of Connor’s systems go on high alert. Then, before Connor can even ask what in sunfire he’s doing here, Cam holds up a mechanical hand and answers the unspoken question, “I’m here for Risa, not for you. Trust me. She saved my life by getting me off the planet. I need to return the favor, and for real this time. In all honesty. To be completely genuine.”

Connor chuckles. “I think we’re in agreement there.”

He spins in a slow circle, still surprised by all of these faces smiling at him, ready to go to war so that he and every other teenager there can live. When he stops moving, another person has replaced Cam.

Connor’s heart lurches in his throat. “Grace,” he says. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Grace Skinner taps her fingers together, her expression as practical as ever. “I didn’t know either,” she answers honestly. “I think it’s good, though. That man has to pay for what he did to Argie. He killed my brother. I want to be part of the group that kills him. It’s only fair.”

“That sounds good to me,” Connor admits. “And Grace– I’m sorry. Even still.”

“I know,” she tells him. “Let’s get our revenge, then.”

A careful smile rises to Connor’s lips. This emotion coasting over him in waves isn’t happiness, not exactly, but it feels pretty damn good, too. Looking around at all of these people, the Chancefolk talking to Lev, the crowds of old friends from the Graveyard, the AWOLs and adults who have united under this one banner, Connor realizes that he’s finally got his army. The only thing left, then, is to get his girl.

Dorian Heartland has no idea what’s about to hit him.

unwind tag list: @locke-writes, @reinekes-fox, @sirofreak

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[originrevolving]

i could never smoke in public, or in a group

i'd get too needy too fast

if it was a party and everyone got together to smoke, and i declined even though they always see me talking about smoking so they try and call my bluff i'm very firm about my no

it wouldn’t be long until i find myself surrounded. someone presses his chest into my back and rests his head on my shoulder, another is lighting the blunt

i'm so nervous because i know how ill get, waving my hands in front of me as i tell them they’re being ridiculous. but she presses the blunt to my lips and tells me to inhale. i'm frowning but i do it, i don't like when people are mad at me

?

before long the blunt is finished, and i'm pressing my knees together. the one looking over my shoulder stares at my crotch intently, the one who made me smoke laughs at me. "what kind of weirdo gets horny after smoking?"

i want to leave, to run and hide- i'm cornered though, and the one on my shoulder has my hands pressed beneath his. one hand moves to my crotch, "are you wearing your packer?"

i nod

"it’s probably the type that works as a strap, pervert"

"you want us to fuck you," its an announcement. "you know you get needy when you smoke, so you came here, knowing we were going to. you came prepared, what a slut"

i don't like the word but i do like being put down

-

its a blur of clothes and skin and cock and hole. why am i the centre? i can barely remember what it felt like with someone so deep in my throat

my head is ringing when i'm put on my back, my head’s in someone’s lap. she's playing with my hair, her fingers are on my cheeks. another is straddling me, fingering himself with his eyes on my strap aligned with their hole, teeth holding their shirt up as their other hand is playing with their chest

god i'm so needy, impatient. my hips roll and brush his wetness

why’s he laughing at me?

"you’re going to have to take a hit first," the caressing of my face stops as the one above me lights another blunt for me. i don't try to fight this hit

atta boy, such a good girl

he stops fingering himself, instead wrapping his hands around my strap. he sinks down, a wet sound coming from us, he shivers and sighs and i can see the head pressing their cunt open

i writhe and moan like my cock is real it feels so good-

my head is turned to the side for another hit as he takes me to the hilt, hands on my stomach and a glimpse of hunger before the blunt is to my lips again. she's caressing my neck now as i breathe deep. sounds so dirty

i shut my eyes when the blunt is pulled away- he's fucking himself on my cock oh fuck i need to hold his hips and bury deep-

i don’t notice another lifting my legs to my head, i hear giggling as they change the position. someone’s still riding me but they shifted the strap a bit why am i on display now

"you’re so damn wet, you must love getting ridden"

a finger pushes my hole open and my head snaps back. im looking up at someone smiling at me

"let’s get that head to use,"

the blunt is back to my lips. breathe, higher

their finger begins to match the needy fucker taking my cock. i cough because a moan makes me fuck up the hit

they’re all laughing so endearingly as the finger leaves me and something heavier takes its place. i've never taken real dick before what are you doing

the wet sounds increase and i'm spread apart so easily. my toes are curling, the stimuli of fucking someone and the experience of getting filled- my favourite things. i'm gasping and moaning unabashedly, i couldn’t think straight enough to keep myself quiet

they keep forcing me to take hits while i'm being railed, simply enforcing my programming. when the blunt fizzles out a cock takes its place and fuck it pushes into my throat and takes me

it feels so good

i could be so honest if they didn’t muffle me. i'd tell them i feel so good and that i love them, and that we could keep doing this as long as i was high and dripping

i'm getting lightheaded and she pulls her cock out of my mouth

-

i'm on my hands and knees?

the prince is on his back below me with his legs wrapped around my hips. the puppy is behind me and spreads my cunt lips with their fingers. master is in front of me, kneeling, cock heavy on my face. she's smiling at me

you’re being so good, angel-

i'm filled and i'm filling and fuck i'm filled. i keep dissociating but it feels good, i'm so happy

i can't breathe.

we’re so loud but the party has already dissolved into passion

the thrusting gets rough. the prince is gasping about needing to cum and the puppy is whimpering between growls and erratic thrusts

hands are in my hair and pull tight

swallow and squeeze

the prince arches and his nails dig into me, wetness pooling below him. puppy forces me to the hilt as their cock swells, never felt such a gross feeling inside. master grabs my head and buries her hips into my face as she spills down my throat, the foreign feeling of cum making my head spin

it's too much

i can't think

i love-

[gunilslaugh]

Missed Chances

Han Hyeongjun

Summary: You and Hyeongjun liked each other. Unfortunately you liked each other at different times.

WC:~1.8k

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credits to owner.

A secluded park in the middle of the night. That’s where and when you first met Hyeongjun. Both of you were taking a late night walk in an attempt at clearing your heads a bit. Coincidentally the two of you ended up sitting on the same park bench. Your phone rang disturbing the silence. It was your mom, the reason you went out to clear your head. You and your mom were currently fighting at the moment. Not feeling like getting yelled at over the phone you declined the call and turned your phone off afterwards. You let out a frustrated sigh, throwing your head back.

“Things aren’t going well for you either?” The guy sitting at the other end of the park bench spoke up. You turned your head to look at him and shook your head.

“Nope, and I might have put my own foot in the grave by not answering that call, but I just can’t deal with it right now,” you possibly overshared. However the stranger didn’t seem to mind. 

“I basically nailed my own coffin shut, so I guess we’re in the same place. Literally and figuratively,” he chuckles at the end. You laugh slightly too. I felt nice.

“That’s the first time I laughed in a while,” you revealed. 

“Then at least I made someone happy today,” he looked on the bright side. 

“Thank you for that. I needed it,” you thanked him. 

“I should thank you too. Talking like this is nice. Much better than the other conversation I had today,” he thanks you as well. 

“I could say the same,” you tell him. “You’re actually listening unlike my mother,” maybe you overshared again. However, yet again the stranger doesn’t mind. He nodded before speaking.

“And you’re actually listening unlike my girlfriend…or maybe my soon to be ex,” he states.

“That bad?” you queried, scooting just a bit closer to the man, angling your body to face his.

“Yeah, that bad,” he sighed. He scooted ever so slightly closer to you and also angled his body towards yours. Mirroring your previous actions. “I think moms are scarier than girlfriends though, so you might have me beat,” he continued on more lightheartedly. 

“I am actually scared to go home,” you admitted. “I feel like I can already hear her yelling at me,” you told him. 

“What are you and your mom fighting about? If you don’t mind,” he asked you. 

“She doesn’t support my career path. Says it’s too unstable. The fact that I have to work three part time jobs should tell me that. I need to stop being stubborn, let it go,” you disclosed. 

“That’s pretty much what my girlfriend and I are arguing about too, oddly enough,” he informs. 

“Well don’t we have a lot in common,” you joked. 

“Seems like it. If we go based on that. Then I can safely guess that you told your mom that you wouldn’t give up on your career. She got mad, probably said a lot of harsh words, with your best interest in heart of course. The words hurt and you didn’t want to keep arguing with a wall, so you went to take a walk to clear your head. Even if it’s three o’clock in the morning,” the guy infers. 

“It’s like you were there,” you said. “Which means, you told your girlfriend that you weren’t gonna give up on your career. Resulting in her getting mad and telling you ruthless things. That they claimed to be the hard truth that you needed to stop being in denial about. It’s not like she wants to argue with you, it breaks her heart even, but you need to hear it because it’s what’s best for you. You didn’t want to hear it anymore and walked out, nailing your own coffin shut,” you took your guess. 

“That’s actually scarily accurate,” he leans back a bit. 

“Our situations are scarily similar,” you noted. 

“True, but I don’t have an angry mom to go back to, just a studio apartment. I’ll have to face the angry girlfriend eventually though,” he chimes. 

“Well in theory I have a part time job that starts at five, so I could just not go home. For a few more hours at least,” you quipped. 

“Sounds like putting your other foot in the grave,” he points. 

“Yeah you’re right. It’s just exhausting,” you say.

“Trust me I know it is,” he responds. “How about this? I’ll go back and face my angry girlfriend and you go back to face your angry mom. Not exactly doing it together, but we're not facing our problems alone either y’know?” He suggested. 

“One condition,” you held up your pointer finger. 

“What?” He asks.

“What’s your name?” You question. The guy laughs.

“We did leave out those details didn’t we?” He says. “I’m Hyeongjun,” finally you know the stranger's name.

“I’m y/n,” you told him.

“Then I wish you luck y/n,” him saying your name made you feel more excited than it should have.

“I wish you luck too Hyeongjun,” you put a bit more emphasis on his name. He smiles. Hyeongjun then scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “Can we meet again? Like back here tonight? Let each other know how it goes?” Hyeongjun questions. 

“I’d like that. Same time?” You checked.

“Same time,” he confirmed. The two of you then stood up from the park bench and said your goodbyes. You still dreaded going home, knowing you were about to walk into a war zone, but you felt better knowing that Hyeongjun was too. You weren’t alone. 

Hyeongjun and you continued to meet up even after that night. That park during the late hours of the night/early morning became a solace for you and Hyeongjun. Your guys’ friendship formed from the sense of kinship that you both shared. 

Only your feelings were a bit deeper than just friendship. You liked Hyeongjun. It would be hard for you not to. He listened to you, he understood you, he supported you. You met him when you were in a hard, dark place. He was in the same place as you, yet somehow managed to be a lighthouse. A source of safety and comfort. It was easy whenever you were with him.

The problem: he was still with his girlfriend. They sorted things out that night, like you did with your mother. You should have been happy for him, but when the words left his mouth that he and his girlfriend were working it out all you felt was disappointment. 

Months passed and there was always this part of you that hoped that whenever you would meet up with Hyeongjun at that park, seated on that bench in the dead of night. That he would say the words “I broke up with my girlfriend,”. It was selfish, you knew this. That’s why you tried to move on from your crush on Hyeongjun. No point in liking a guy who is in a relationship anyway. 

You ended up meeting Hyeongjun’s girlfriend at an open mic night where he was playing guitar. 

“Oh my gosh y/n it’s so nice to finally meet you! Hyeongjun talked about you so much,” she excitedly stated.

“He did?” You were a bit surprised to hear this. 

“Of course he did. I have to thank you actually. Hyeongjun said you helped him not give up on music. I wasn’t being a good girlfriend back then. You probably heard about that though,” she said a bit awkwardly. “But I digress, I’m just glad he had someone supporting him through those hard times. Is it ok if I hug you?” She questions.

“Yeah,” you opened your arms. She enclosed you in a hug happily. You felt really awkward about liking Hyeongjun right now.

“I broke up with my girlfriend,” Hyeongjun tells you. The words you had waited for, yearned for, finally left his mouth. After one year and seven months of waiting for them. Hyeongjun even broke up with his girlfriend because he realized that he had fallen in love with you.

The problem: you had a boyfriend. You met him while attending one of Hyeongjun’s sets. Hyeongjun knew this. In fact it was the night you told him about getting together with your boyfriend that he realized he was in love with you. He remembers how you excitedly ran over to the bench, almost tripping on it. 

“B/n and I got together!” You excitedly told him, smiling ear to ear. Instead of being happy for your new relationship he felt disappointed. Like he lost you, yet you were right in front of him. Hyeongjun tried, but he couldn’t keep being with his girlfriend after realizing he was in love with you. He ended things, deciding that he would wait for you. Even if there was a chance that that day wouldn’t come.

“I broke up with my boyfriend,” you told him, sitting on the park bench. The words Hyeongjun had waited for, yearned for, finally left your mouth. After two years of waiting for them.

The problem: well there wasn’t one. Not this time at least. There was finally no reason keeping the two of you from being together, so why are you two just sitting there on the park bench in the middle of the night?

“You know today is the anniversary of the day we met all those years ago? Right here on this park bench” you patted the bench. 

“Of course I remember. It’d be impossible for me to forget that night,” Hyeongjun replies. 

“I used to like you back then,” you revealed, leaning forward on your palm.

“What?” Hyeongjun asks surprised. He knew that he used to like you, but he never knew that you liked him too.

“Back when we first met. I liked you, but you had a girlfriend,” you explained.

“I actually used to like you too,” Hyeongjun confesses. Your eyes widened in shock. You never suspected that Hyeongjun ever liked you. You thought your crush was pointless. “I liked you, but you had a boyfriend,” he further explained. You laughed.

“We’re really just mirrors of each other aren’t we?” You stated. Hyeongjun laughs too.

“Really seems like we are,” he says. Hyeongjun shifted his body resulting in his knee brushing against yours. Were you two always sitting this close? 

“So, I liked you when you had a girlfriend and you liked me when I had a boyfriend,” you reiterated the situation. 

“Yep,” Hyeong said, popping the “p” at the end. “Looks like we missed our chance,” he added. His voice sounded like it had a sad tone to it. 

“We missed it then, but what about now?” You put to question optimistically. Hyeongjun smiles. 

“We both are indeedly single right now,” Hyeongjun declares. 

“Then we shouldn’t miss another chance right?” You stuck out your hand, palm facing upward. Hyeongjun placed his on top of yours, lacing your fingers together. 

“How could we?” He brings your laced hands to his lap. 

A secluded park in the middle of the night. That’s when and where you and Hyeongjun got together.

[fight-the-corn]

sbi x reader part 6

After I talked with Phil and Techno, I went to the living room and grabbed a book. Techno joined me soon after. I was curled up in an armchair by the fire, while he laid along the sofa. The quiet was nice, but also cruel. Part of me just enjoyed being around him, being near him. He had a calming presence. The other part of me was too focused on what was going to happen when they dropped me off.

Techno called me out before I even noticed I had stopped reading. In his monotone voice, which I honestly found relaxing, he suddenly spoke. "Are you okay?"

I almost jumped. But I didnt. " Yeah, why? "

"You look super stressed. Like, super stressed. And you haven't flipped a page in a while."

I had no response. I couldn't explain. Maybe I should apologize? "I'm sorry."

Now he just looks confused. "What're you apologizin' for?"

Shit. Usually I'm not questioned this much. I say sorry and that's that. "Um, I wasn't focusing on what I should have been focusing on?"

He looked skeptical. "Are you asking me or telling me? Either way, it doesn't matter. You don't have to do anything. If you don't wanna read, just don't read. Or choose a new book if that one's boring."

I nod quietly and go to the shelves to get a new book. I choose a bigger one, so hopefully it'll go unnoticed if I don't put for a while again. I glance over at Techno. His nose is in his book, but I wouldn't be surprised if he knew exactly what I was doing the whole time I was in here anyways.I

About fifteen minutes later, Wilbur comes in and flops down onto the rug, groaning dramatically. I immediately sit up. Techno doesn't react at all.

Tentatively, I ask Wilbur, "are you okay?"

He rolls over and looks up at me, pointing and groaning. "How dare you leave so soon! My trust in you has been betrayed, I thought you loved us!"

Fuck. I didn't want to offend them by leaving, not when they had been so kind to me. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you felt disrespected, I thought I should get home-"

I was cut off by Techno. "Olivia, he's not mad. He's just dramatic. Don't stress. I what you want to do. You're welcome to stay longer, but no pressure if you want to go home."

I chew my lip. I really want to stay. Like, really badly. But the longer I stay away, the worse the punishment was going to be. "I can still visit you if you'd like?" Inside I was praying that they'd say yes, they were all so sweet. Who'd have thought the supervillains had a better family dynamic than my family?

"Darling, I thought that was a given. We're going to miss you, of course we want to see you!"

I smile, relaxing without noticing it. Techno noticed it though. He was pretty sure Wilbur did too. He had told his family that she was abused at home, none of them knew why she was fighting so hard to go back home. However, none of them wanted to force her to stay either. They came to a consensus that they'd keep an eye on her, both as supervillains and the Craft family.

---

Within the next hour, Tommy had woken and learned the news. He wasn't too happy, but he couldn't stop it, so everyone loaded up in the car. The job of DJing was offered to me, but I politely declined. I was worried they wouldn't like my music, so Wilbur, who had gotten shotgun, was the DJ. We listened to music the whole way, it was rather quiet. I was trying to hide my anxiety, but I'm sure they picked up that something was wrong.

Finally, Phil pulled into my driveway. To my surprise and horror, they all went to get out of the car.

"Um, my parents are kind of private people, so I think it would be best if only one person came? If that's okay?"

"I'll go." Phil spoke up. Techno looked like he was going to protest but was shot down by a stern look from Phil.

Phil and I got out and walked up to my door. I knocked, somewhat tentatively. Almost immediately, I heard footsteps approach and the door opened. My dad answered the door. I shrank back at the sight of him. Not too much, I didn't want Phil to notice or worry. (Clearly, I didn't succeed, but there was no need for me to know that.)

Fortunately or unfortunately, he was sober. He reached out to hug me, ignoring as I blanched at the idea of touch, neither of us seeing the disapproving look from Phil. He talked to Phil for a bit, thanking him. Phil told him it was no problem, his family loved me, I was a wonderful guest, etc. I was blushing, not used to being spoken of so highly. After about five minutes of Phil making no move to leave, just talking more, my dad finally made an excuse.

"Well, thank you so much for dropping her off, we'll let you get back to your day now! We'll see you around, I'm sure!"

With that, he pulled me in the house and closed the door, sealing my fate.

[red-riding-wood]

Chapter 2

OC: Aleera

Fandom: Game of Thrones / ASOIAF

Summary: Former protector of the last Targaryens and bastard daughter of the Mad King Aerys, Aleera ventures to Westeros in search of the family she's never known, and finds herself swallowed by a world of cruelty, ambition and lies... She must leave behind her heart to survive, and, like her ancestors, forge her path through fire and blood. Madness and greatness, they say, are two sides of the same coin, and may the world hold its breath to witness how this coin lands.

Warnings: (for entire story) angst, graphic violence, gore, cursing, sexual assault, graphic sexual content, incest, torture... standard GoT stuff. I'm not holding back with this story so if you're not a fan of dark or disturbing content this is not for you. Also future Ramsay x OC and Petyr x OC and those two are their own warnings.

~ Combines content from Game of Thrones TV series and the ASOIAF books. Some canon changes are made to suit the story. ~

The heat was as blistering as the stare Viserys had fixed me with since dawn; I couldn’t be certain if it was caused by our spat the previous day, or the fact that I had called off the dinner I was meant to have with my betrothed. Though it wasn’t exactly in my power to do so, I was the only one between us who was decent with a sword, and Viserys could put no price on his vanity.

Nonetheless, I hadn’t slept well that night, and Dany worse than I; she had come to me when it was scarcely dawn, sneaking into my bedchamber to utter the horrors she had experienced in another one of her dreams. And not long after, Khal Drogo and his khalasar had ridden back to Illyrio’s manor and demanded the wedding be held today when the servants had barely the chance to brush her cheeks with rosy powder and her neck a scented tonic.

I watched her now, as her shoulders grew heavy from the heat and she smiled at the servants but respectfully declined as the last platters of horseflesh and honeyed peppers were passed around, and the feast drew to a close. She was fatigued, and weakening by the hour, but fear and determination must have kept her stomach strong as we had watched the Dothraki spill blood and guts in the desert field outside of Pentos. It had been enough to sour even my stomach, and I had eaten little more than Dany.

The champions of their battles had mounted women like they did their steeds, and the Dothraki continued to fight and fuck and dance like savages even as magisters, peasants and tribesmen alike began to present the bride with wedding gifts. The plains were alive with the sounds of steel and war drums, and the hot air reeked of heady incense and the foul tang of viscera.

“Do you see that one, sister?” Viserys jabbed my shoulder with his elbow; I’d sat far enough apart that I did not have to smell his potent perfume or hear him whispering and gossiping with Illyrio, but I was still safer near the khal and his bride than I was among the Dothraki horde.

My blood boiled at the word sister like it never had before, but the Valyrian steel of my necklace was cool against my burning skin, and I looked to the man and woman he had pointed out to me.

“You’re lucky you didn’t end up like one of them,” he said, as I watched the slave’s spine buckle beneath the weight of the Dothraki who mounted her, his bloodied fingers woven deep in her hair and what I couldn’t discern to be her blood or his dribbling all the way to her bare breasts.

A shudder nearly seized my spine, but I held my chin high and prided myself in maintaining my calm. My eyes shot to Viserys and I replied, tone tight and frigid, “You’re lucky as well. In that tunic, I nearly mistook you for a fine lady.” 

He seemed grievously offended, his lip curling into a sneer and lilac eyes darting down to his ornate cloth that clung to a slender figure, and the scarlet scales of his collar and the two-headed dragon that pinned his capelet to his shoulder. I hated that I still found him enchanting – though equally as repulsive –, especially wearing the powerful colours of House Targaryen. I resisted the urge to paw at the necklace Dany had gifted me beneath the fabric of the simple red tunic I had insisted upon, as an homage to the crimson dragon in my sister’s dream.

I could tell Viserys disapproved of it as well, but for once, his disapproval stirred satisfaction in me rather than melancholy.

My hand tensed each time a stranger approached Daenerys, ready to leap to the weight of the sword that hung on my hip. I was not accustomed to strangers being so friendly, but they bowed their heads and referred to her as “princess” and “khaleesi” as they laid down their offerings of finery and trinkets.

I should not have felt my chest tighten as I heard these names and watched the gifts pile at her feet, should have focused on the coolness of the Targaryen pendant against my skin and the words we had exchanged the night prior. But my unease grew, not only for our safety but for the attention my sister was showered in.

Viserys, it seemed, held the same envy, for he frowned up at Daenerys from where we sat on a wooden step below, and watched with uncertainty as a tall, seasoned man with fair hair and fair skin approached her, a stack of old tomes in his hands.

“A small gift, for the new khaleesi,” he said, as he passed the tomes to her. “Songs and histories from the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dany said, politely, and squinted at him past the bright of the sun and the vicious wind of the sea. “Are you… from my country?” 

“Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island,” he introduced himself, as I took note of the fastens of his grey cloak and the dark of his tunic, the squared pattern of his sleeves and the gold emblazoned on his scabbard. I had seen several travelers in my time, and his attire was indeed of northern Westerosi fashion. House Mormont, he claimed, and I wondered if he had met my mother or her husband. I kept my mouth shut, for it was not my turn to speak, and he scarcely acknowledged my presence.

“I served your father for many years,” Ser Jorah said, and my interest piqued further, but I still could not speak. “Gods be good, I hope to serve the rightful king.” His gaze swept across me and landed on Viserys, who still seemed perturbed but nodded to him silently before the Westerosi knight stepped away. I watched as he took his place at the edge of the Dothraki horde, a standout in his muted northern colours amid the bright war paints of the bare-chested Dothraki and their leather and horsehair armour. His eyes scarcely left Daenerys.

Other than Magister Illyrio, and Ser Willem Darry in his later years, no one knew of my Targaryen blood. I was just another beggar, an exile. I stood out from the people of Essos only by my fair skin and red hair, but to them, I was no daughter of the Mad King. I wished, for a moment, that Ser Jorah had paid me more than a fleeting glance, that I did not have to hide the three-headed dragon round my neck. But discretion, my sister once told me, was a gift of my bastard blood.

Illyrio stood next as his servants carried a bronze chest to Daenerys’ feet, and as the gold clasps came undone and the heavy lid swung open, I was so captivated by its contents that I was almost blessedly pulled from my sordid thoughts.

The sun rippled across iridescent scales; four eggs, roughly the size of unripe melons, glinted in colours of bronze and green, cream and gold, black and silver, and black and crimson. My sister held one to the light, the silver shimmering like moonlight on water, while I couldn’t help but admire the way the crimson of the other black egg seemed to glint like fire despite being burned and blackened with age.

“Dragon’s eggs, Daenerys,” Illyrio said. “From the Shadowlands beyond Asshai. The ages have turned them to stone, but they will always be beautiful.”

“You told me not of this gift to my sister. Each egg must be worth a ship, or an army,” Viserys hissed audibly to Illyrio as he took his seat and Dany placed the silver-black egg back in the chest with the others. I tore my gaze from the crimson scales I had been transfixed by to behold the prince’s fury.

I spoke instead, a smirk pulling only slightly at my lips, “What is wrong, Dragon Prince? Frustrated the future mother of your children looks upon a rock with more affection than she does you?”

Viserys whirled on me, hatred glinting in pale eyes. “I am a king, and you should address me as such, lest you wake the one true dragon. You should be thankful I let you sit by my side this morrow.”

I blinked slowly at him. “I sit beside you because commoners and false kings alike must sit below the khal and his khaleesi.”

I could feel Ser Jorah’s gaze on me now,and Illyrio’s, but the Dothraki still writhed and raged like a virulent tide below. And Khal Drogo and Daenerys were kept too busy by the gifts that continued to be laid at their feet.

I enjoyed watching Viserys seethe as I reminded him that here, in this godless tribe of savages and horse lords, he was as lowly as me.

“When I take my throne back, dear sister, I will demand you are brought all the way from Essos to kneel before me when I sit higher than any man in the Seven Kingdoms.” His gaze then flitted to the chest of eggs. “And I see the way you look at those, as if you will ever be worthy of one, even stone and soot.”

His last remark stirred hellfire in my chest, and I swallowed, my smirk falling from my lips.

“Stone and soot,” I repeated, coolly. “That is all you will rule over, when your people burn your flags and castles while you sleep.”

“Illyrio,” Viserys snapped, his agitation reaching a frantic crescendo. “Get this impudent whore from my sight.”

A few more heads snapped towards us now, and my skin crawled. We were creating quite the spectacle. Even Dany’s violet eyes settled on me, and Khal Drogo’s dark gaze on Viserys.

“I cannot, Your Grace,” Illyrio said, flustered. “It would be an insult to the khal and his bloodriders.”

Distraught, Viserys flashed him a foul glare and turned back to me, his hot breath snaking down my neck as he leaned to growl into my ear,

“For your insolence, I will have you watch as I bed our sister.”

The fire came screaming up my lungs, and I breathed smoke. The throng of the war drums and the shouting and hollering of the Dothraki all blended into a droning ring, and my nails dug into my palms, hard. My heart hammered fast and true against the Valyrian steel of my pendant, and my face burned hot with ire.

My chair trembled beneath me as I rose, and descended the wooden steps; I wove through the Dothraki horde and became one with the drums and the screaming and fighting around me, pushing my shoulder unthinkingly against one of the tribesmen.

I followed Illyrio’s servants, who were bringing the wedding gifts from the harsh sun into a tent, and it swallowed me in its shade and muffled the cacophony of sounds outside. The servants shot me worried looks, but didn’t dare speak. They feared the sword on my hip and the fire in my gaze more than Viserys or even their master.

“Leave me,” I growled, my tone raw and grated by my ire.

Once they had scurried from my sight, I collapsed to the cloth flooring, my spine digging into the shaft of a greataxe and a barrel of wine. I let the first tear fall, but swiped it away as quickly as it shed, and my spine curled in on itself as a leaf furls in the cold. My sobbing was made into the sleeve of my tunic, my whimper barely muffled by the light fabric.

The sound of the tent flap silenced my pitiful crying, and I stiffened, nearly cringed; perhaps it was Viserys, ready to pepper me with another onslaught of insults, to tell me how I was undeserving of him or my sister or any of the fineries he so graciously granted me with Illyrio’s gold.

But when I lifted my head, threads of wet crimson sticking to my tear-stained face, I saw not the silver locks and lilac eyes of the man I still so ashamedly loved, but the wide jaw and tanned skin and wild, black eyes of one of the bloodriders.

I sprung to my feet, startled, my hand reaching for the hilt of my sword. The bloodrider spoke in the foreign tongue of Dothraki, but there was no mistaking the fury in his tone, and the speed at which he drew his arakh – a half-sword, half-scythe – was unmatched by the heavy steel of my own. I had it halfway from its sheathe when the blade of the arakh was at my throat, and stocky fingers grabbed a handful of my hair. My scalp burned, and I gritted my teeth, but I dared not move lest his blade slice my delicate flesh.

The man stank of sweat and manure, and the faint trace of an old perfume he must’ve worn to the city but never washed off. He was easily thrice my size, built like a horse, and his stomach felt as hard against my spine as the sunbaked leather vest he wore. 

More foreign words were hissed into my ear, spittle landing against one painted lash. I dug the toes of my sandals into the floor to keep from flinching.

Suddenly, the arakh was gone from my throat, but blackness coated my vision as my face was shoved against the flooring of the tent, and I breathed sand into my lungs. The bloodrider bent my spine and mounted me, just like I had seen his fellow tribesmen do countless times today. I would have screamed, but it was for naught, for the song of blood and dance roared beyond the thin walls of the tent, and when I struggled, he pulled harder at my hair and grabbed me rougher by my hips. The back of my tunic was torn, the fine fabric no match for the strength of a Dothraki, and I shuddered at the feel of his calloused hand over my scars.

As I lifted my face from the sand and cloth to breathe, I witnessed my pendant pool in front of me, winking in the soft light of the candles. I supposed it didn’t matter; he would kill me long before anyone heard of my Targaryen blood.

“Release her.” A slow, familiar voice spoke with an unusual calm from the opening of the tent, and the bloodrider stilled as his attention turned from my rump to the man speaking.

I shifted my head, cheekbone scraping against the granules of sand and the rough threads of cloth, and in the corner of my teary vision, I glimpsed a tall man with fair hair and northern clothing. The steel of his sword glinted in the candlelight.

“This girl belongs to the khaleesi,” Ser Jorah said, when the bloodrider did not release his hold on me. “She would be displeased to see her harmed, as would your khal.”

Above me, the bloodrider grunted in rage. Ser Jorah repeated his words, this time in Dothraki, and the tent became silent.

I closed my eyes. I thought of how shameful it was to die like this, bent over like some broodmare, like the whore my brother thought me to be. In front of a Westerosi knight, no less; I dishonoured the blood of Old Valyria, the Targaryen sigil hanging from my neck.

And with a shove that sent my palms flying out in front of my face to catch myself, the bloodrider released me, and shouldered past Ser Jorah. I heaved out a breath, my chest wracked by coughs as my sand-filled lungs ached to dispel such foreign matter, and slowly, shakily, I clambered to my feet. My tunic hung off one shoulder, torn and sullied, and my knees stung with blood and bruises. I shoved the Targaryen pendant beneath the fabric of my breast, but Jorah’s eye caught on it for a second before a blue, northern gaze met mine.

“You must have caution, my lady,” the knight said, stepping forward and sheathing his sword. I stepped back, and he hesitated, my hand going to the bare of my shoulder, my teeth still gritted.

“Don’t,” I warned, and I nearly flinched at the fear in my tone. My stomach roiled.

But the knight’s eyes were gentle, and he stopped as soon as I backed away. I eyed the hand that had just held the hilt of his sword, and it fell away, slowly, to show he was not a threat.

I coughed several more times, into my dirtied sleeve, and he said, “You disgraced the khal and his khaleesi by walking away from their sacred ceremony.” But his voice held no scorn, only kindness that I was not accustomed to from strangers. A kindness that reflected only my sister’s.

“I should bring you back to the khaleesi,” Ser Jorah said, and I shook my head fervently. Between coughs, I said,

“I am not her slave. I am – ” Another cough silenced the words before they could tumble from my foolish tongue, and I shook my head again. “I am her protector.”

Ser Jorah studied me, blue gaze seeming to see through my half-lies. And he asked, “Then why do you leave her side?”

My lip curled, and I remembered him bearing witness to the spat between Viserys and I. I wasn’t sure how much he’d heard.

“I needed fresh air,” I said. Even in the suffocating air of the tent, it stank less of blood and rotting meat.

Much to my dismay, pity formed in the blue of his eyes as they swept across me – the dirt on my dress, the tremble of my legs, the way my shoulders hunched inwards to cover myself. And he said,

“Very well. I will watch over the khaleesi in your stead. And I will ensure no more Dothraki near this tent.”

I nodded, and my eyes sought the floor when I said, “Thank you.”

Ser Jorah bowed his head, and left me by my lonesome, just as three servants came in carrying the chest of dragon eggs. I resented their looks as they saw me not as a warrior or even a woman but a girl, with tears drying on the reddened, bloodied cheeks that, hours before, they had painted with powders and creams.

And when they, too, left, I straightened my aching spine, and rolled my shoulders. One made a snapping sound, and I winced; though this wasn’t nearly as taxing as most fights I’d been in, the fact that my pain was a product of my defenseless scored crueler than the deepest of battle scars.  

I felt again like sinking to the floor, but I refused, out of pride or fear I could be certain not.

I needed to get myself and my sister out of this place. Away from these savages. To Westeros. To the North. To my mother. The Dothraki had disrupted my plans of sneaking Daenerys from the manor, and smuggling us onto a ship headed for the western continent. And by dusk, when Khal Drogo presented her with her mount, she would ride with the Dothraki until her wedding night, and I shuddered at the thought of my sister enduring what I nearly had, but undoubtedly worse.

And then my eyes wandered to the golden clasps of the chest, and I remembered the eggs, and Viserys’ words,

“Each egg must be worth a ship…”

Despite the fear that now evidently coursed through my veins and my quivering fingers, I knelt before the chest, and threw back the lid to reveal its contents.

My fingers couldn’t help but travel to the crimson-black egg; it called to me, sang a song sweeter than the bards Illyrio hired for his feasts. Tugged at some part of me, buried deep inside my chest, spoke to something in my dragon blood.

Dany and I would take the eggs, and sell them, and we would never have to beg on the streets again. We could sail to Westeros with white, billowing sails on a massive ship and ride the finest steeds across the land and hire the best sellswords to protect us on our journey.

But something tugged cruelly at the thinning strings of my heart as I thought of selling such beautiful fragments of my ancestors, and my fingers curled firm around the petrified scales as I recalled my brother’s words about my unworthiness.

Stone and soot perhaps they were, but it was not his hands on them. Mine. And to possess one would bring great insult to him.

“Sister. What are you doing?”

Torn from my thoughts, my gaze shot up to Daenerys, who spared a cursory glance at my condition but seemed to concern herself more with the egg in my hands. I lowered it, gently, nestling it beside what, at one time, could’ve been its kin, and I rose to meet her violet gaze.

“Dany,” I breathed, swallowing roughly against the sand in my throat. “Let me rescue you from this awful place. Let us take as much as we can carry, and never look back.”

I stepped towards her, but she took a step back, and trepidation shone in violet eyes. The threads of my heart pulled taut.

“What happened to you?” she asked, breathless.

Shame pierced me, sharp and cruel, and I clenched my jaw. “We don’t have much time, sister. Come with me.”

“No,” she said.

The threads of my heart snapped and my chest was left bleeding, raw. I stumbled, lightheaded, as if struck by a blow.

“What do you mean, ‘no’? You’ve done nothing but cry about how much you wish this marriage to be gone. By sundown, Khal Drogo will rape you and make you his broodmare, and if the desert sun does not eat you alive, the tribe will, slowly. I know what they do to girls like us, Daenerys. I have heard it in stories but I have seen it today, in the slaves they take.”

“I am his khaleesi,” she spoke, and in her voice and those burning arcane eyes I could sense the fire awakening in her, the fire left tempered and hidden from so many but me, but never, ever directed my way until now in mayhaps what was one of my weakest moments.

Desperation clawed at my aching chest, and rage began to pump viciously through my veins.

“You are not his khaleesi. You are his slave,” I told her. “Do not let their gifts and their titles and their false biddings fool you! You are not a queen here, Daenerys. You are meat.” I paused, softening my tone, and my hand fell from my tunic to extend to her, open-palmed and bleeding. “I will take us to my birth mother. She gave me up because she knew it was best for me, because a mother’s love knows no bounds. She will take you in as Rhaella did for me. We can go home, sister.”

Dany shook her head, fear and fury swirling in her arcane eyes. “How do you know that?” she pleaded, tears brimming along her lashes. “She is not my mother, and you don’t even know her. What if she is cruel, like Viserys? What if she is mad, like our father? What of King Robert? He will have me killed for the colour of my hair.”

“She is not Viserys, and she is not our father. She is my mother, and somewhere, in the North, she weeps for her lost daughter. And she will protect you from the king as she protected me, because you are my family.”

Tears streaked Dany’s face, but her eyes still burned with fire, and she cast me an uncertain look. “I heard what you said to Viserys. About bearing his children. Mayhaps I was wrong about you, Aleera. You are envious, of my gifts and my titles and my biddings. You do not wish to rescue me; you wish to sabotage me. Here, I find you, thieving my gifts, scheming behind my back. When were you going to tell me of this escape? Were you even going to? I heard from Ser Jorah, a man I have only met today, that you were in here.”

Ser Jorah had scarcely been able to keep his eyes from my sister for what I imagined to be the whole wedding, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if he had told her I was plotting against her to win her favour. I should have never trusted his kindness.

“This is not about titles and crowns. This is about survival. I never planned to leave you. I never planned to steal from you. I confess, I do envy you for your titles, and your beauty, and the way our brother looks at you. I have always wished to be you.” I could hear my voice trembling again with fury, and I did my best to rein such a vile emotion in. “But we are family, Daenerys. We are sisters – you said so yourself. And family is more important than any of that.” A tear I hadn’t known had shed pooled on my lower lip, and I tasted salt that seemed to beckon me once more across the Narrow Sea. There, I was growing more certain I belonged. “Please, sister, come with me,” I begged.

I would never forget the look on her face. Never forget the way I watched as two souls tore in the mirrors of her eyes.

“I can’t,” she said, at last.

“Why not? Why do you speak so ill of me? Why do you no longer trust me?”

She closed her eyes, her own tears ruining the rosy powder of her cheeks. “Because it was not Viserys in my dream last night. It was you.”

My heart was crushed in my chest, and the fragments sank with a sickening weight to my gut.

The nightmare she had told me of this morning, sobbing and fearful, had been one of Viserys striking her. She’d told me she was naked, her thighs slick with blood, and the crackling of a fire and a ripping sound had made her whimper and suddenly she had stared into the molten eye of a great dragon.

“Sister, you have gone mad!” I practically cried. “They are only dreams. I would never hurt you.” I reached for her arm, but my fingers merely brushed her soft skin as she backed away.

“I would like to believe not.” Her voice trembled, her eyes slowly rising to meet mine again and her lips parted, breathless as mine. “But at times… I fear you more than Drogo.”

The fragments of my heart pierced my guts as they twisted, and the fire in my blood was quenched with bitter, cold ice. I had no words.

“Take one,” she said. “As my parting gift. You are still my sister, and I do not wish for you to be owned by a magister. You may envy me for my silver hair and my lineage, but I have always envied you for your strength, for being able to stand up to our brother when I never could.” She blinked away more tears, and sniffled. “You do not belong in a captor’s bed. If leaving is what you desire, you will fare better than I ever could in the wilds of Westeros.”

Wordlessly, I backed away. I bent my shaking knees to pick up the crimson-black egg, and shoved it numbly into a decorated horsehide satchel that I slung over my bare shoulder, and as I came to pass her, Daenerys flinched away, as if I would strike her like I had in her dream.

My lip trembled as I attempted to form a goodbye, but the word sister rolled with venom on my tongue and I swallowed it, the pain in my throat nothing in comparison to the emptiness in my chest.

I left the fragments of my heart in that tent, left them behind to cast away.

NEXT CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST / FULL MASTERLIST

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[aitadinnerwex]

Did you get a lawyer op :(

Yes, I have!! Sorry for going so long without any updates, but right now there's a lot of legal stuff going on and tbh? Most of it is kind of boring. My daughter talks to her dad on the phone, but is still mad at FIL and MIL. She's going to therapy in person every week. My ex is being very cooperative about the custody issue. I met K briefly and it was awkward (more on that under the cut)

I got in contact with a lawyer the day after I made my last post. I live in a state that does not recognize common law marriages, and my ex and I were never actually married. Add that to the fact that my home has been my daughter's primary residence for the last 3 years, and the fact that she's almost 12 and that's the age she has a say in who she wants to live with, and my lawyer assured me that in the eyes of the law I am currently my daughter's sole legal guardian. My ex would have a case if he wanted to fight for custody, but he doesn't. He just wants the arrangement we had before: I keep custody of our daughter, but she is free to come see him whenever she wants. He even offered to pay child support and help with my bills until she turns 18, but this I declined. I make more money than him and my own parents, while estranged and on the other side of the country, love their granddaughter and are more than happy to help financially.

We worked most of the legal stuff out on zoom calls, but one day we were meeting in person with both our lawyers to sign some legal stuff and K came with my ex. Some of you thought she must be younger than me and my ex because she sounded so immature, but y'all. She's older. Much, MUCH older. She looked like she was at least in her late 50s, which bleach blonde hair and yellow smoker's teeth. I don't wanna be petty or tear fellow my fellow woman down but... y'all. She looked like Donald Trump doing drag. Poorly.

Anyway, she stays quiet the whole time we discuss things with our lawyers. but she does keep one hand on the back of his neck kind of... grabbing him and massaging him? And the other hand is holding his hand in his lap, or occasionally stroking his thigh. In other words she was all over him. I can only imagine she was trying to show me that he was hers now or something, but I honestly couldn't care less. She can have him.

Before the meeting ended both lawyers asked if there were any questions and I admit, I got a little petty. I asked if I could maybe know even a little about K, because she was, ostensibly, going to be acting like a stepmom to my daughter if/when she decided to reconcile. K just gave me this death glare, but ex asked what I wanted to know and gave me short answers.

How old is she? 52.

How did you two meet? Church. (I doubt this, he hasn't willingly been to church since high school, but I didn't argue)

Why did K move in with ex at MIL and FIL's house after less a year of dating? None of your business. (Fair)

I asked a few other things too, mostly about my daughter and how we could more effectively coparent, and ex was helpful here and K continued to be silent (and handsy).

So, yeah. Court stuff is agonizingly slow, and talking to ex is like talking to a brick wall, but at least he's being a cooperative brick wall for now.

[silverwings22]

Caught in the Crosshairs: Chapter 54: Iridescent: Linkin Park 

Series warnings: Smut, mind control, canon typical violence, childhood trauma, language, chronic illness

Chapter Warnings: Child endangerment, chronic/phantom pain

Translations: ori'mesh'la: very beautiful

Previous chapter:

Next chapter:

Miria loved the Havoc Marauder. She'd fought to keep it, called it her home after the loss of so much… but the durasteel walls were closing in around her. 

He's in trouble. He's in trouble and I need to find him, and no one is listening to me. She was the same padawan begging to be taken seriously, the same Jedi screaming her suspicions to the Council while everyone turned their heads. 

They'd picked up Phee for a mission, as her muscle for a pickup. Hunter and Wrecker were escorting her and Omega into some seedy bar; and as much as she didn't want any of them out of her sight when her nerves were this raw, Hunter had insisted she stay with Tech on the ship. She was pretty sure it was because of her distracted attention, but she couldn't think of anything but that nightmare. The vision, showing Crosshair in danger.

Tech had reasoned that they had no proof he wasn't trying to trap them for the Empire. Hunter had been rightfully concerned about Omega's safety. Wrecker just didn't like when they argued, and they'd all eventually shut Miria down one by one. 

She leaned over the console, hands aching in her lap again. Tech was using Gonky as a table, playing a game against himself since she had declined his offer to play with him. How could she focus? She needed to be looking for Crosshair. 

"Are you alright up there, General?" Tech looked up. He was concerned for her, she hadn't had much to say in days. Once the pleading for a rescue attempt failed, she'd curled into herself. 

"I'm just-" She started, but was cut off by the ship's comm going off. 

"Tech, we need a ride."

"On the way." He hopped up. "You were saying, Miri?"

"Nevermind. Let's get the others." She moved to give him access to the pilot's seat and bit back her internal diatribe as Gonky made a couple noises.

They'd gone after the sweet little defective droid, in the ipsium mine. Why didn't Crosshair get the same consideration?

When they dropped in for a landing, Miria met the guys at the hatch with her rifle, giving cover fire until they were safely in board. She punched the hatch button to close it. 

Phee grinned. "Got it!" She held up a statuette that looked like a tree. 

"Lovely." Miria went back to the hold, Gonky nudging at her until she patted the droid and sat on him. He seemed to like carrying her around. 

Phee looked at Omega, who shrugged. "Miri's been kinda quiet lately." She whispered. 

"Noted." The pirate smiled and went to join Hunter on the bridge.

Omega climbed up Gonky to sit in Miria's lap and tell her about the mission. They'd avoided poison and a kohoun, gotten in a fight, and all around been the squad of badasses she knew them to be. 

She patted the girl's hair. "I'm proud of you."

"You still look mad though." Omega frowned. 

"I'm only frustrated. I'll figure out something to do about it." Miria told her with a hug. 

There was one looming possibility sitting in front of her. A choice she didn't like the idea of making, that she'd been rolling around in her head for over a week, since she'd practically begged the guys to look for their brother. 

If they wouldn't go, she'd never take the choice from them. They deserved to control their lives. But she could make decisions too… like Echo.

She could leave the Bad Batch. 

It was risky, putting her on her own in a way she'd never been before and leaving them without another set of hands. It would hurt them, like Echo leaving had. It wasn't a choice she could make lightly. 

"We are getting a message from Cid…" Tech sounded a little reproachful. 

"Put it through." Miria stood, Omega on her hip despite being nearly her height, and walked over. 

The Trandoshan's flickery holo appeared, eyes narrowed. "Twenty rotations without a peep. You guys better be dead, since I've lost out on a lot of scores in your absence. Don't forget our mutually beneficial relationship, or how well we know each other. You'd better believe I'm doing more than threatening you boys."

Miria's expression could have cracked rock. "I suppose she thinks she frightens me."

"I didn't know you guys cut ties with Cid." Phee raised an eyebrow.

"That mutually beneficial relationship wasn't so beneficial mutually." Hunter sighed. 

"If she tries anything, I'll ask Uncle how good a fertilizer she'd make in his garden." Miria grumbled. 

"Easy, Miss." Phee shook her head. "I've known Cid a long time. She's a good ally, but a dangerous enemy to have." She looked at Hunter. "What's your plan?"

"You're looking at it." He rubbed his face, wishing idly he could go back to the days when Miria didn't swat mosquitoes. This headstrong, hardlined version was concerning. 

"Then you guys are coming with me. Brown Eyes, make for these coordinates." She got up. 

"Where are you taking us?" Miria softened a fraction. Phee had been pleasant and helpful so far, and despite her current annoyance with Cid, she wasn't the kind to burn a bridge that didn't need burning. They needed friends in the galaxy, especially if she might have to leave the guys alone. 

"You'll like it. Trust me." Phee winked.

Omega hugged Miria around the waist. "Please, Miri?"

The woman sighed. "Okay… let's see where we end up."

Phee grinned. "You'll never want to leave."

The planet was warm and tropical, a jutting island standing proud among the blue skies. Phee had them land high, stepping out into a neat city square. Miria hadn't seen civilization so pretty since she called Coruscant home. 

Phee smiled. "The artifacts go in that tower."

"My calculations indicate that the artifact you recovered is worth very little monetary value." Tech sighed. 

"There are different kinds of treasure, Brown Eyes. Many people on Pabu are refugees. These artifacts are parts of their culture, worth preserving." 

Tech thought back to Serreno and nodded thoughtfully. "I see…"

"Auntie Phee!" A little girl about Omega's age came running up with a large man behind her. 

Phee laughed. "This is the mayor of Pabu, Shep. And his daughter Lyana."

Miria was charmed by the girl, who immediately ran over to befriend Omega. Phee led the adults to Shep. "This is Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Miria."

"A pleasure." Shep shook their hands, extra gentle with Miria's when he spotted a faint wince. "Phee has never brought friends before."

"She must really like you guys." Grinned Lyana.

"That's enough out of you." Phee ruffled her hair fondly. 

"Please, join us for dinner." Shep opened his arms, welcoming and kind. Hunter nodded, following him close with the others behind. This place was beautiful and everyone was so nice, waving as they went. It was jarring after a lifetime of suspicion.

"Your people are refugees?" The sergeant asked. 

"Many are. But they're safe here. Many come to start new lives, and as a father there's no better place to raise a child." Shep gave Omega a meaningful look. It was clear who the dad of the Batch was. 

Hunter smiled a little, glancing at the girl. "I see."

They were led up to the top, Shep telling them about the history of the upper and lower parts of the island. Miria listened, hands folded behind her. She was surprised at the massive spread of food laid out when they reached a beautiful mountaintop platform. 

A troop of greenish primates were exploring them as they sat down. Lyana grinned. "They're called moon-yos. The elders say they've been here since before Pabu was inhabited."

Omega let out an adorable laugh as one climbed on her shoulders. 

Tech looked at Miria. "I have not heard her laugh like that for a long time."

Miria nodded. "I know."

They're going to want to stay.

Wrecker was losing his mind with delight as they were served, Tech chatting away with Phee. Hunter even looked happy, watching Omega and Lyana laughing and joking. He expected Miria to enjoy the peace and join in, but found her nibbling at the delicious food with a restrained expression. 

"You have your own boat?" Omega was giggling. 

"Yeah. Let's take it out to watch the sunset." Lyana offered. 

"Hunter, can I go?" Omega turned pleading tooka eyes to him. 

"Have fun." He nodded, shoulders relaxing. The girls ran off, hand in hand and happy. Once they were out of earshot, he looked at Miria again. 

She was turned profile to him with a slice of fruit, taking slow bites and watching the sun starting to dip low. "It's beautiful here." He said cautiously. He was in no hurry to end up in another argument like the screaming match they'd had a week ago over Crosshair. "And safe."

"Yes." She nodded. The dimming light cast a golden sheen on her skin, a monument of something broken and rebuilt stronger than before. 

Tech and Phee were getting up to watch the sunset, the woman grinning. "Come on. You don't want to miss this."

"Hurry, darling. We'll miss it!" She tugged Crosshair by the hand up the steps of the overlook tower in Republica Park. 

"What are we climbing all these stairs for? There's a lift." The sniper huffed. "You're going to be out of breath."

"It takes too long. Just trust me?"

Crosshair scooped her up. "You know I do."

He carried her to the top, the Jedi giggling. "We made it. Here, at the railing. Put me down, love. Just watch."

Her feet touched the ground as the sun started to drop below the horizon, the sky going brilliant gold and dappling into pinks and purples in a glorious light show. "Okay?"

"Just watch, Cross."

As the twilight went indigo, for a split second the stars peeked through the haze of light pollution. Then in the distance, the nighttime city lights came up in flickering waves, casting a cozy glow. Miria made a happy noise, tucking her head against his shoulder. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" She whispered. 

"Yeah." He shifted to put an arm over her shoulders, twisting the white streak in her hair around the black fingertips of his gloves. "Ori'mesh'la."

He wasn't looking at the sky, but at her. 

"We could stay." Hunter said softly. "This is the kind of place you like… you're strong enough to shield yourself from the Empire. And this is bigger than the farm, we'd blend in…" At one point she'd dreamed of going back to the farm, her concern about bringing hell on her family and later the knowledge that Aram had left keeping her away. It was only a matter of time before other members of the family left, to fight in the ways they could. But here…

All she'd ever really wanted was a happy, peaceful life. This could give it to her after so much had been taken away. 

"Is that what you want?" She took another bite of her fruit, still watching the sun dropping into the water. 

"Why not? We could finally rest, build a life…"

What life can I build without my guiding star?

"Then you should." She finally looked at him. "If that's your choice, I want you to make it."

He frowned. "I don't like the way you said that."

"You never got a choice before." She sighed. "None of you did. From the Republic to the GAR. I'll never take that from you."

"You don't want to stay." He reached for her arm. 

"I don't think I can." She got up, just out of his reach, and walked to the railing. Hunter followed, tense again. 

"Miri, we can't drag Omega into a war."

"I know." She nodded. "I'm still making up my mind about myself."

"You can't be serious. You're thinking about leaving?"

"Yes." She took another bite. "I told you what I saw, Hunter."

"It could be a trap."

"The galaxy is a minefield for survivors of the Temple." She nodded agreeably. "But your life is yours to choose now. I will always make the same choice. I will always choose Crosshair."

"Miria, just because you accidentally fell in love with the man who-"

"It was no accident." She cut him off. "Every minute, I choose to love him. Through his mistakes, through this tragedy… I love Crosshair on purpose." She looked at him again. "My only remaining choice is what to do about it."

Before he could try to talk her down, the ground under their feet rumbled. Lanterns and houses wobbled like paper dolls, and the chorus of villagers gasping or crying out in fright was less a song and more a cacophony. Miria straightened up. "What was that?"

"Something's coming." Hunter stiffened. "That wasn't just a tremor."

Miria froze. "Underwater earthquakes cause tidal waves."

Tech turned around. "Correct. I believe this island is in significant danger of a sea surge."

"We haven't had a sea surge in three decades." Shep whispered. 

Miria leaned over the railing as another, harder tremor hit. "The tide is running away from the shore, mayor. I think you're overdue."

"The early warning system-" Shep started, before a piercing siren rang out. 

"The girls." Miria looked at Hunter. "Tech, Wrecker, start evacuating everyone from Lower Pabu up here. Hunter, we have to get the ship and rescue Omega and Lyana. Their boat will be smashed on the rocks."

The group split, the two leaders running full tilt down to the Havoc Marauder. Any argument between them was gone in the familiar dance of protecting what they loved most: the family they shared. Hunter slid into the pilot’s seat, Miria preparing the drop line to launch as soon as they got close enough. 

“Omega, where are you?” The sergeant tried to quell his anxiety as they got into the air. She’d be fine, they’d make sure that the littlest member of the squad was safe and sound. They always had, working together, protected each other. 

“Our boat crashed on the rocks. We’re on foot!” They could both hear her voice straining as she ran, probably pulling Lyana as well. 

Miria leaned into the comm. “Head for the shore, and keep your locator on. We’re coming to get you.” She headed back to the hatch.

“You ever seen a sea surge before?” Hunter frowned. They’d seen a couple as cadets on Kamino, but those buildings were designed to be submersible. It had just been terrifying to watch the water dip low before swelling sharply over the top of them. There was no land for the wave to break over, just the barely anchored city. 

“Not exactly.” They shot up, following the signal from Omega’s locator. “There isn’t much ocean on Coruscant, and I haven't done much else of interest that you weren’t around for.” The Batch had always been by her side for her adventures, there for every moment that scared her. 

“I see the girls.” Hunter pulled the ship to the max of its capabilities, trying to outrun a wall of water to get to them. 

“Hatch open.” Miria fixed the drop line to her belt and took a running leap out of the ship. “Omega!” 

The brave little blonde was pulling Lyana by the hand, desperate to outrun the roaring sea barreling down on her. She threw an arm up, never slowing her pace but with full confidence in Miria to rescue her. 

Miria swung out, catching Omega's hand and pulling her and Lyana to the rope. "Hold on. Hunter!"

He jerked the controls, veering up and out as the wave came close enough they could have reached out and touched it. Salt spray dampened their faces as Miria and the girls clung to the rope, a brief reflection of her own face in the clear water catching Miria's eye.

She didn't look like the Jedi who'd once smoothed her hair and tried to color her pale cheeks in a temple mirror. There was nothing delicate or innocent left in those eyes, only determined grit and a drowning sorrow deeper than the sea trying to swallow them. This was the face of someone who no longer needed to repeat that she could do it to make herself believe. 

I will do it. 

Hunter pulled them up, out of danger, and started back towards the island. The girls and Miria climbed the rope into the ship, and sat in the floor of the hold silently. 

"All of Lower Pabu was destroyed…" Lyana finally whispered. 

"It's only things." Miria put an arm around her. She knew how the girl felt, how she'd felt in the aftermath of losing the Marauder. "As long as the people survive, you can make new memories to replace what was lost."

Perhaps that was why it had been so hard, when the ship had been taken. She didn't have Crosshair to make those new memories with… but that didn't have to be true. Not anymore, even if she had to do the one thing she'd once told Shak Ti she didn't think she was strong enough for. 

Let go. 

They were welcomed back by refugees, gathered in the city square and giving each other what aid they had. Tech was next to Phee, giving small smiles to each other. Wrecker took Omega and Lyana to sit under the big tree in the square, to relax and decompress from another near death experience. They both ended up snuggling with him and falling asleep as the night turned to dawning. 

Shep looked at Hunter. "Thankfully, no one was hurt. Property was destroyed, but my people are resilient. We'll rebuild."

"It could take a while… we could stay and help. If you don't mind us sticking around." Hunter offered.

"You would be most welcome." Shep patted his arm. 

Hunter smiled and glanced over at the rest of the team. They looked safe, content… except for Miria. She was sitting on the wall, looking out at the devastation on Lower Pabu. 

This was a beautiful place, and the Batch wanted to stay. They could build a home, like she'd always hoped for them to have. She knew what was happening behind her. 

She wanted to stay too, really. It would be a nice life, safe beyond the shadow of the Empire. Her love for the men and child begged her to consider it. But another love was calling louder than the sea song, and Miria was a sailor in the face of the siren's lullaby. 

Crosshair. 

Hunter watched her for a long minute, expression unreadable, before she lifted her comm to her lips. Despite the distance and crowd, his hearing picked up the words like she was standing next to him. His chest went cold with dread.

"Aunt Irene, can you spare a little time? I need a pickup."

"You guys lose the ship again?"

"No. This time, I'm going alone."

[alwayzraven]

Kardeşlerim Ep 92

I can’t believe this ridiculous band plot. So the kids are now popular, their video went viral and everyone wants their autograph and to take selfies with them at school. Oglucan said that he is the manager of the band now and he is going to meet with the producer who called them to check whether he is serious about the offer he made to them.

Sarp and Omer’s relationship is better but Sarp keeps on acting like he doesn’t like Omer in front of the others 😂 but when they were alone in the bathroom, Sarp told Omer to put some ointment on his lip wound and Omer was like “Are you okay???”. Sarp said that he has a reputation to protect so he can’t be nice to Omer at school and Omer said:”Oh you should’ve said that from the start”. Oglucan saw them and he was confused, he thought they were fighting 😂

I honestly forgot that Orhan was humiliated at Ayla’s house. I was so confused when Berk came to apologize to Aybike at school. Berk said that he only wanted to help him but Aybike said that she only cares about the result: Her dad was humiliated and she was sad. Elif heard their conversation, she told Berk that Aybike was right. Berk told her to mind her business. Berk called her obnoxious and Elif gave him the classic response we all used with a sibling before “No you are, since you said it then you are obnoxious” 😂 and then Berk called her childish 😂

A friend invited Elif to her birthday party but Elif declined and said that she has nothing to wear. Then she saw some clothes on Ayla’s bed and changed her mind. She tried a red jacket and liked it. She took a scarf from Ayla’s closet and kept the jacket. Berk saw her wearing the jacket when she got back home and he argued with her. He bought the jacket for his mom on her birthday. He called Elif a thief and she got mad and threw the jacket on the floor. Ayla didn’t care about Elif taking her clothes without her permission. She was tired of seeing Berk and Elif constantly fight. Later, Ayla heard Elif talking about her mom and how she wished she was with her. Ayla went and bought her new clothes. Elif was so happy, she said that she will be wearing new clothes for the first time and not somebody else’s old clothes 😭

Oglucan and the others went to meet with the producer. The producer said that he wants to record a studio version of their song with them but he told them that they need to pay half of the budget. I have never heard of such thing! Usually, the producer or the record company takes care of these expenses and then they take their share from the profits of the song later. Oglucan went to the restaurant with Omer, he asked Akif if he could work there as a server. Omer told Akif that they needed money and Akif offered them to work as valets for the customers who are coming to the illegal casino at the club. Omer asked if it was illegal but Akif said that it wasn’t, he was just waiting for the permit. Sarp also joined them because he needed money.

Berk was standing by the lockers looking at Aybike. Asiye told her to go talk with him.

Aybike:”What’s wrong? What do you want?”

Berk:”Aybike, I know, you are still angry with me but look, I am saying it again, it was not my intention” 

Aybike:”I know that it wasn’t your intention, I know but what can I do? I am upset, Berk. I am angry with you, I can’t help it... Anything else?”

Berk:”Yes! Again, in the music video you guys shot, you look so cool and great!”

Jshfjkshdfs I really can’t with him 😂 Berko I need you to FOCUS!!

Aybike *trying to hide her smile*: “Thank you”

Berk:”I heard from Doruk that you’re trying to collect money to release a song”

Aybike:”Don’t say that you want to help! I don’t want to hear you mention the words “money” and “help”, no money or help!”

Berk:”Aybike, please, let me help you guys”

Aybike:”No, Berk, no!”

Berk:”Okay, I'll shut up”

Berk:”Okay, when will you exactly forgive me then?”

Aybike:”I don’t know. When I am not angry with you anymore, probably”

Berk:”Okay, I will wait. What can I do? Should we go get coffee?”

I JUST CAN’T 😂😂

Aybike:”No, I am giving you attitude, can you please respect that? I am angry,  I am giving you attitude!”

Berk:”You’re pretty even when you’re giving me attitude.”

Ahmet kicked Seval out of the house after Nebehat told him about how she drugged him and took the pictures with him while he was unconscious and sent them to Suzan. Seval went to see Sarp at the club. Sarp told her to stay at the club for the night and he will ask Akif for a salary advance and will give her money to stay in a hotel. I am really so sick and tired of Seval relying on her children to finance her lifestyle. She can find work but she doesn’t want to. I remember that Ahmet got her an interview with a company and the position was great but she messed up the meeting on purpose. Seval saw the casino and called the police. When the police raided the place, they asked for the owner and Akif gave them a document that shows Omer, Sarp and Oglucan as the owners. The police arrested them. Akif gave the boys this document earlier to sign and they thought it was a work contract and of course they didn’t read the document because they trusted Akif.

Overall, I think it was a good episode. I love that Sarp and Omer’s relationship is improving. Ayber’s scenes were cute even though they were arguing or at least trying to 😂😂

Next episode 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Con Man's Daughter

Posting this because there isn't enough biodad! John Constantine content.

[Masterlist]

(Part 2)

-----

I feel like this should be a Damianette story or just platonic relationship after Jon got aged-up to seventeen and Damian wanted a friend his age but doesn’t want to admit it.

So basically there is this big bad in Gotham using magic that Batman was fighting at the time and enlisted John Constantine to help out.

John realizes that the villain is using a Miraculous.

“Oh. I think I know how he gets his powers. And lucky for you, Bats, I know an expert on this special brand of magic.”

And he did the smart thing and called up Marinette who at the time was already Guardian and was looking for other lost Miraculouses like in the Treasure Hunter AU I wrote.

He calls her at a really bad time. She was in the process of being chased by the guardians of the place. Monsters and evil spirits.

“Hello, Dad. What do you need and can you do it quickly?”

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. How is my little cupcake up to these days?”

“You called at a bad time.” Gunshots.

“WAS THAT A GUN I HEARD? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOUNG LADY?!”

“Somewhere in Japan. Getting a Miraculous. And why can’t you call me to check in on me and not ask me to help you with whatever mess you got yourself into.” More gunshots sounds and it was telling that Marinette was using a gun.

“Where did you get a gun? And don’t you have school?”

“It’s summer break. Don’t worry Maman and Papa know. Well, the fact that I am in Japan anyways.” Marinette sounded a little out of breath. Roaring and horrifying sounds at the other end. “Can we do this later?”

“As it happens, there is a villain going around Gotham with what I think is a Miraculous.”

Swears on the other end.

“Oi. Watch your fucking language, young lady.”

“How about a No and move the fuck back, old man. I am coming over right now.”

“Old man? I am not that old-” as a magic blue portal opens up in the Bat Cave.

And a red Chinese dragon comes out with someone riding it.

Its rider was a black-haired girl. She had a trench coat similar to Constantine's. I imagine her with a fedora. Like Carmen Sandiego style but not red. Sometimes red but only when she has to steal it from a museum or high security places and she leaves a name card with the name Carmen Sandiego. A sword strapped to her back and a dagger to her thigh.

She had a gun in her hand which she used to shoot the monsters as it was halfway through the portal and yelled out the spell to close it.

“Brilliant entrance but you are in lots of trouble, little lady. What were you thinking about going to another country unsupervised? And isn’t there still a butterfly problem in Paris?”

“One, I wasn’t unsupervised. I had Tikki, a billion years old being and a sort of god. Two.Well, it got boring trying to track Hawk-bitch down. And I found this legend about a guy with a Miraculous who disappeared in the temple and thought hey, more miraculous could mean another edge to defeating Moth-man.”

More bickering and John grounding Marinette who was acting very nonchalant about it.

Okay, at this point, I should say that Batman and Robin are in the background trying to make some sense.

Batman is surprised to find out that Constantine has a daughter who is also involved in magic like her Father but an apparently more specialised kind called the Miraculous. He is a little miffed that he didn’t know about John having a daughter. He did consider it weird at first that she had a slight french accent unlike her father’s Liverpool accent although she pronounced some words like he does.

He also connected some dots that she is also the Parisian heroine, Lady Rouge who Wonder Woman introduced to the League a while back and had declined to join the Young Justice or Teen Titans until everything in Paris was resolved.

Damian on the other hand was suspicious of the new arrival and came to the same conclusion as his father about the daughter thing.

Batman after a few minutes, clears his throat.

The Constantines stop arguing.

“Bonjour. Batman. Robin. Pleasure to meet you. I am Mari Constantine and yes, I am this homeless looking man’s brilliant daughter.” “Hey”

“Well, Mari. Your father thinks you can help us with this new criminal turning Gotham upside down. Literally in some cases. He said that you might be able to help us.” Batman said as he pulled up zoomed in picture of the Miraculous.

Mari looks through the Miraculous grimoire and tells them all about it and power-ups, basically the most effective thing to defeat the guy is to get the Miraculous off them. Plus a spell that would make the Miraculous ineffective if casted within a certain radius of it.

“Thank you for the information, Mari. Constantine, let’s go.”

Mari made to follow them.

“You young lady are grounded and staying here.”

“I don’t need another supervillain using the Miraculous which are my responsibility as Guardian to retrieve them for their own misuse and wreaking havoc on the city. And what if there is an akuma in Paris? I can’t go there if I am grounded in the Batcave although it is a cool place to hang out.”

“You can portal back to Paris but you are not going to follow me. Understood?”

“yes. crystal”

“Good. After me and Batsy get the Miraculous, you can do your Guardian duties.”

Damian snickers. Until Batman cut his mood short, “You are staying behind too. Robin.”

“But Father, why? I am much more capable than Constantine.”

“Hey!” Both father and daughter.

Damian is staying behind too because of the Miraculous power or other reasons and keeps an eye on Mari.

Damian stays behind and there were some protests about mari mad about having a babysitter and Damian doesn’t want to be a babysitter. Despite the two of them being around the same age.

“I got an eye on you so no funny business.”

“Okay, Dad, I am not going to have sex with Robin.” Mari said with a shit- eating grin. Robin definitely didn’t blush.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“I love you too, Dad. Go save the world. Byee.”

John eyes her suspiciously because she is not one to give up that easily usually.

He casts a spell to watch her as they leave. and which she totally knew about.

“So...I have one question.”

“Tt, ask and don’t bother me anymore.”

“Is Batman Bruce Wayne?”

Damian looks up, totally caught off guard.

“I am going to take that as a yes.”

Puts sword at her neck. “How did you find out?!”

“Opened up Google Maps and saw that we are under Wayne Manor. Connected the dots. Also I already knew when Dad made a bet with me once to find out Batman’s secret identity but he never did confirm it for me. And can you please not tell your father about this? I don’t feel like being interrogated by the Bat in the future yet.”

“Father must know about this.”

“I saw you looking at Scarlet here. An animal lover then? You can give her some belly rubs. She deserves it after helping me outrun those monsters.”

His silence was brought. To pet a dragon.

One thing after another and he ends up bringing out his pets-Jerry the turkey, Goliath the dragon-bat, Titus- and her introducing him to her other pets like a hellhound, griffin and other mythical creatures who mostly roam free but come to her when she calls for them and also the kwamis, at least the ones who came with her.

After 30 mins have passed, “So Robin how do you feel about disobeying our fathers?”

“I am in.”

“Depends. Are we going after the (villain's name) ?”

“Yes.”

Awesome montage of them getting rid of the spell John casted and flying out of the Batcave on their respective giant flying pets to the villain’s base.

Meanwhile, their fathers are not doing so well and are trapped in a death trap. John can’t say the spell because the villain made him unable to talk.

“At least, the kids are staying put.”

Cut to Damian and Mari jumping off their pets and onto the roof. Taking out the guards posted there and going into the building all sneakily and also taking out the guards that come their way.

They dropped into the room where their fathers and the villain is.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Villain starts an evil monologue about his mastermind plan to which Damian cuts it short by trying to cut him down with his katana. Mari goes to deactivate the death trap.

They are evenly matched with Damian’s training and the Miraculous.

Mari steps in as Damian was about to be killed. Taps on the shoulder of the villain and when he turns around, gives an awesome right hook that knocks him out.

Takes away the Miraculous and curses him. Wiped the dude’s memories of it.

“When I said stay in the Batcave, I meant stay behind at the Batcave. What point of being grounded, don’t you understand?”

“You mean, Oh, Mari, light of my life, my wonderful daughter, thank you for saving my ass. You are the best.’ by that, right?”

-----

Mari and Damian exchanged numbers and email addresses.

As she was about to leave the Batcave, “It’s been nice meeting you, Mr. Wayne.” and leaves with a wink.

John ‘ungrounds’ her for the look on Batman’s face.

-----

After this, Marinette and Damian become friends who bitch and vent to each other about their alter egos and various villains of their respective cities. (In codes, just in case) They also share updates about their pets and love of drawings.

They have that type of friendship where they trade favors. Mari calls Damian to Paris sometimes to help out with the akuma of the day and Damian sometimes calls her in when Bruce doesn’t let him go investigate a case so he can sneak out by magical means or as back up for when his brothers were too annoying to deal with.

It’s summer break so no missing school.

John and Bruce are aware of their friendship and some of the shenanigans the pair gets into behind their back.

-----

-----

Right. how this all started...

John and Sabine first met when the latter was still in college somewhere in France. John was tracking down a demonic entity which was targeting Sabine for some reason and she was the next target.

John saved her life and exorcised the demon. There was a heat of the moment thing and they had a one-night stand. There were a few more flings and hook-ups after that night.

And nine months later, Marinette Cheryl Cheng-Constantine was born.

When Sabine first found out, she called John to come over and he thought that it was a call for another hook-up and was very surprised to find out that it was not and that he was going to be a father.

They both like each other but do not want to be in a relationship together so they both remained as friends and John agreed after some strong-arming at the very least to meet his daughter before he goes to do his job. And pay for child support. And help Sabine during her pregnancy.

Pregnant Sabine was someone you don’t want to mess with. And John has never met a demon or anyone scarier than her.

He was at first not into meeting his child and there was a self-pity party he threw himself with how the child was going to live a bad life because he was the dad and how he destroyed every good thing in his life.

That’s why he is going to meet the baby once and leave maybe a letter and the occasional birthday present and stay out of their life. Forever.

The day Marinette was born and it took one look into her eyes for the HellBlazer to fall under the spell and all of his plans to stay out of her life to burn away.

At first, he tried. He really tried but he couldn’t do it.

Lasted 4 months before he came back, wanting to place protection spells on her and sigils around the house to keep away the forces of Heaven and Hell and other entities so they won’t use her against him as a bargaining chip.

Sabine calls him to babysit. He could have refused and Sabine would have easily found a babysitter. He moans and whines about how he is a great mage and not a bloody babysitter. Sabine retorts that it is actually called parenting since he is Marinette’s father. He grumbles but in the end, agrees.

The great John Constantine is wrapped around the little girl’s finger.

He was around for some of Marinette’s firsts. Her first word was “John”.

It made him cry. He wasn’t a good man and he doesn’t deserve someone this precious. His daughter doesn’t deserve someone like him as a father but fate made it that way and what can you do about it.

After an exhausting week of doing the usual and coming back from Hell, he saw that Sabine had sent him a video. It was Marinette taking her first steps.

Chas swears that in all the years that he has known John Constantine he has never seen the man look so happy.

------

When Tom came into the picture, John was there to take care of a toddler Marinette while Tom and Sabine went on dates.

Insert John threatening a much bigger Tom while holding a baby Marinette with wide eyes and hugging a teddy bear with the same coat as John’s. (It was something Sabine brought on a whim and to tease John when he came around.)

Tom is supportive and treats Marinette like his own flesh and blood.

John resolved to leave for good now that Tom would be there to be a father figure for Marinette.

That plan fell into the drain the moment he was going to leave for what was supposed to be the last time before Sabine pulled him back and knocked some sense into him.

His face was a big giveaway. Sabine knows that despite his claims of being a terrible father for Marinette, he was a good one and damnit she was going to make sure that Marinette would get to know her actual father.

Tom later made an awkward talk with John about how he was not going to replace John’s role as Marinette’s father.

Marinette was the flower girl at Tom and Sabine’s wedding. John was there too.

During bedtime, John would read her stories and use his magic to make it come to life. Although he would feel a little drained afterwards, it was worth it to see her smile.

Sometimes he told stories about his tamer adventures. (After cutting out some of the inappropriate bits)

------

When Marinette was about 5 or 6, Sabine was out on an errand and Tom was at home with Mari and helping her with her homework. There was a crash downstairs at the bakery. Tom went down to check it out to find John lying on the ground.

With a weak cough, he said, “Close the door. Close it.” Before losing consciousness

Tom did before a man with pitch black eyes slammed against it.

Thankfully John had installed heavy wards around the bakery when it first opened.

They held against the demon on John’s tail. Tom brought John inside and unsure of what to do, grabbed a rolling pin on the counter.

The man outside started pounding on the glass door and every time his hands touched the door, light glowed outwards, showing the invisible magic barrier around the bakery. Sparks and steams fizzled with every pound.

Despite the reddening and burns of his hands, the not-human didn’t slow down.

“ʝօɦռ....ʏօʊ ӄռօա ȶɦǟȶ ɨȶ'ֆ օռʟʏ ǟ ʍǟȶȶɛʀ օʄ ȶɨʍɛ ɮɛʄօʀɛ ɨ ɮʀɛǟӄ ȶɦʀօʊɢɦ ȶɦɛֆɛ աǟʀɖֆ. օռƈɛ ɨ ɢɛȶ ʏօʊ,” He laughs, the sound sends chills down the large man’s spine, “ȶɦɛʀɛ ǟʀɛ ֆօ ʍǟռʏ ȶɦɨռɢֆ ɨ ɦǟʋɛ քʟǟռռɛɖ ʄօʀ ʏօʊ.”

Tom knew that Marinette’s father was a con man. Come on, Master and Practitioner of the Dark Arts and Occult. But he was a good father nonetheless despite all his flaws and Sabine liked him enough so that was good enough for him.

Before today, magic was just the sleight of hands and use of fancy tools to sell the illusions. Now, with a could-be-a-demon knocking on his door to get to the father of the girl he sees as his daughter, he’s not so sure.

“Tom? Qu'est-ce qui se passe? (What’s going on?)” A little voice came from the stairs, “Dad!” Marinette padded across the floor to the body of her passed out father.

She shook him awake and there were a few soft slaps to the face.

“Dad, what’s happened?”

John mumbles, “Demon…. possessing some rich guy….. Exorcism…. Doesn’t like me very much…Don’t worry...wards going to hold.”

John manages to stand before falling down and Tom catches him before he hits the floor. He has a concussion. Tom turns to Marinette, “Go, Hide and don’t come out until It’s safe.” which she did

Unfortunately, a while later, Sabine returns from her night out and the demon upon seeing Sabine. “ɛӼƈɛʟʟɛռȶ..”

The demon possessed Sabine and the previously possessed dude hit the sidewalk with a thud.

“ɨռȶɛʀɛֆȶɨռɢ....” The voice coming out of Sabine didn’t sound like her mother which scared Marinette a lot. “օքɛռ ȶɦɨֆ ɖօօʀ օʀ,”the demon pulled a knife out of thin air, ,“ȶɦɨֆ ɮօɖʏ ɢɛȶֆ ɨȶ.”

Tom hesitated until the demon put the knife on Sabine’s neck and put enough force for a thin line of blood to be shown.

He opens the door and the demon knocks him out. Stepping over his unconscious body and looking down on it, “ʄօʀ ȶɦǟȶ, ɨ ǟʍ ɢօɨռɢ ȶօ ʟɛȶ ʏօʊ ʟɨʋɛ ʊռȶɨʟ ɨ ǟʍ ɖօռɛ աɨȶɦ ʝօɦռ, օʄ ƈօʊʀֆɛ.” and cackles. The sound was so wrong and unnerving and little Marinette tried very hard for her sobs not to be heard.

Too bad the demon had super hearing. “Come out, my little blossom. Maman is home. Why don’t you come out and give me a hug?”

It sounded so much like her mother and she nearly believed that it was her mother and not some entity in control of her body.

But she knew better from John’s stories of dealing with demons and how they would use the voice of loved ones to lure them out and into a trap. (Definitely not something one should tell as a bedtime story but Marinette was very different and had an unconventional childhood with John Constantine as her father.)

Wait...she got struck with an idea but she wasn’t sure if it would work.

Before she could do anything, the door of the cabinet she was hiding in was opened and she was dragged out.

The demon lifted her a few feet above the ground by the collar of her dress.

It heard Marinette saying something. “աɦǟȶ ǟʀɛ ʏօʊ ֆǟʏɨռɢ ƈɦɨʟɖ, ֆքɛǟӄ ʟօʊɖɛʀ?”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Marinette was now screaming the words at the top of her lungs. She repeated the spell over and over again with fierce determination.

John, being his paranoid self, taught her the spell for an exorcism, just in case. Demons spared no one, not even a girl.

It screamed “NO….” as Sabine’s body contorted in strange angles before a dark shadow seemed to be dragged down into the ground. It made a desperate attempt to possess John before it was pulled away and disappeared. There was no sign that there was a demon attack.

After John woke up, he managed to piece together that his 5-years-old (Sorry 5 and a half) daughter sent a demon back to hell.

He was a very proud dad. (He was a tad worried about the consequences from this event and demons hold one hell of a grudge. He wanted his daughter to live a very safe and happy life. The bakery’s wards also need an upgrade.)

He also got the job of explaining what he actually did to Tom. And lots of reassuring.

Sabine, on one hand, was not happy that Marinette knew how to do magic. That is until John told her that he did it just in case so she can protect herself and later it was agreed that Marinette can learn some Magic spells and charms to better protect herself and when she is older, she can decide if she wants to continue or not.

----

(Part 2)