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dreamofmysoul-tsc · 3 years

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I'll Stay Here With You Until This Dream Is Gone

A story about Matthew Fairchild and James Herondale

Title from “Burning House” by Cam

I’ve never written fanfiction before, nor am I really a writer, but this idea has been poking at my mind for awhile now so I figured I’d write it down. I probably won't write more fanfic btw, my brain just wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this 😅

Little nods to The Haunting of Hill House and Bly Manor if you squint

This story follows the theory that Matthew becomes a Downworlder; in this story he is a vampire, although it isn't that important. Also, lots of angst. Suffer with me y'all. Enjoy!

CW for talks of death and the afterlife

January, 1963

Watery, gray light filters through the thick, velvet curtains despite their best efforts to keep the sun at bay. The house sits quiet, empty save for its owner and a single butler. A man sits at an antique writing desk, blonde head bent over thick sheets of paper, each embossed with a golden MF. He writes slowly, thoughtful of each word he inks onto the pages. A glass of water sits precariously on the edge of the writing desk, half empty.

A series of swift knocks resounds throughout the home. The man doesn't raise his head, expecting his butler, Mr. Wingrave, to answer it. As expected, he hears the door creak open, followed by a quick, muffled exchange. Whoever decided to darken his doorstep leaves as fast as they came, the door closing shut with a resounding thunk. His butler begins to ascend the stairs, but the man continues to write his letter, a half smile beginning to turn up the corner of his mouth.

His bedroom door swings open. "Mr. Fairchild?" Wingrave stands on the threshold, a folded note held in his hand. It is without an envelope, as though whoever wrote it sent it off in a hurry.

"Yes?" Fairchild says distractedly, mind still occupied by his letter.

"A note for you, sent by a Mr. Owen Herondale, sir."

This causes Fairchild to pause. Why did his godson, whom he had visited just last week, send him a letter so early in the morning? Despite his best efforts, he feels a mix of curiosity and mild concern begin to build.

"From Owen? Whatever for?" Not expecting a response, he accepts the note from Wingrave. He unfolds the thin paper and feels his stomach drop.

Father is dying. Please get to the townhouse as soon as you can. He needs you.

-OH

James. His Jamie. He reads the succinct words over and over, unable to fully understand, or perhaps fully accept, their meaning. Of course he knew James was getting on in years, he isn't that in denial, but he had never fully sat back to think about how he would go on or what he would even do when James was gone. Now reality is crashing down on him, harsh and cold, as he lurches out of his seat and grabs for his coat. He barely gives himself time to put his shoes on before he's running out the door, only to be reminded harshly of his vampirism when the winter sun scalds his face. He can't find it in himself to care, ducking his head and sticking to the shaded walls of buildings as he sprints flat out toward Curzon Street.

Thanks to his vampire speed, he manages to limit his sun exposure and make it to Curzon Street in record time. He bangs on the townhouse door, red tears already welling up in his eyes, unnoticed until they begin to fall, cold, down his cheeks.

Owen opens the door immediately, black eyes wretched and lips pressed into a thin line, clearly trying to prevent himself from falling apart. He looks so like James, who always hated to cry too, that Matthew almost lets out the sob building up in his chest, yet he holds it in for Owen's sake. Matthew wraps him in a fierce hug, tucking his godson's face against his neck like Owen used to do when he was a boy. Owen holds onto his godfather's coat, trembling but still trying his best to keep it together.

Owen pulls back, sniffling and red eyed, voice hoarse as he says "Dad is upstairs in the bedroom. He's been asking for you all morning. I'm sorry I summoned you so early, but I just don't know how much time he has left." His voice cracks as he says it, tears finally falling. Matthew holds his face in his hands and wipes them away, pushing his hair from his forehead. Despite being in his 40s, Matthew will always see him as the chubby faced little boy Owen was so many years ago.

Taking a deep breath, Matthew ascends the stairs up to Jamie's bedroom. Cordelia, having passed a year prior, would've reprimanded him for getting dirt and slush on her lovely rugs. He almost chuckles at the memory.

James' door is already ajar as Matthew gently pushes it open. It takes Matthew yet another valiant effort to hold in a sob. James lays back on the bed, hands folded over each other, white hair fanned out behind his head like a halo. He holds a gold necklace in one hand, a miniature globe attached to the end of it, and a photograph in the other.

Matthew takes a seat in the cushioned chair by the bed and rests his hands on the duvet in an attempt to stop their shaking. "Jamie," he whispers, voice hoarse.

James' eyes crack open, still the same champagne gold as when he was a young man, and miraculously, he smiles. Matthew finally lets out the cries he's been holding in upon seeing that smile, warm and earnest, a smile that can only be described as so perfectly James.

James sets the objects in his hands aside and reaches out a surprisingly steady hand as Matthew meets him in the middle. He holds onto James' hand like it's a life raft, pressing his knuckles to his forehead and doing nothing to quiet his crying.

"If I had known it'd be this soon-" he chokes out, red tears staining James' calloused hands.

James cuts him off gently. "None of that, Matthew. What was I supposed to do, wait around until death came for me? My body is giving up on me, Math. I knew that my time was coming and that's exactly why I need you here. Because despite everything, I'm afraid. And although you no longer have the rune, we are still parabatai. I'm afraid of what comes after, Math, and I...please, just sit with me."

Matthew looks up, bloody tears dripping steadily onto James' poor bedsheets. He squeezes his parabatai's hand and he nods. "Of course I'll stay with you, Jamie bach. Whither thou goest, I shall go, remember? Even if I can't feel you, I won't let you go into the dark alone."

James lets out a soft chuckle as tears form in his eyes and squeezes Matthew's hand in return. "Thank you, Math."

As the day progresses into night, Matthew finds himself laying next to his parabatai, pushing his white hair back from his forehead and listening to his slow, wheezing breath. James sleeps and Matthew watches, afraid that if he so much as looks away from him, his friend won't have a hand to guide him into his afterlife.

Owen visits periodically to check on his father, occasionally clutching onto his hand and looking on with heartbroken eyes. He's even so kind as to offer his godfather blood, blood that they kept refrigerated for his visits, but the thought of stomaching anything causes bile to rise in the back of Matthew's throat.

Earlier, while arranging himself on James's bed, he finally caught a glimpse of the photograph James had held in his hand. It was a photo of them in their teenage years, Matthew's arm draped over James' shoulders, dressed in fashions well out of style, bright smiles on their faces. Matthew remembered that day well. It was a hot day in June and they'd gone to Regent's Park to enjoy the summer weather and catch up on reading. What had started as a peaceful summer day had ended with Matthew dramatically-and loudly- reciting passages from Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest while passersby looked on in faint amusement or unmasked annoyance. James had been mortified, repeatedly begging Matthew to stop through fits of laughter, ending with the boys play wrestling in the grass as James attempted to grab the play's script from Matthew's hands. They had ended up with grass stains all over their shirts, leaves sticking up in their hair, and Matthew was fairly certain he'd almost upended their picnic basket into the pond. It had been one of the best days of Matthew's life.

Matthew laughed through his tears as he gazed down at the photo, holding onto James' hand even tighter and continuing to watch him. He had once called James his heart and now he realizes how true he had been. James was always steady and strong, a presence he could rely on when he oftentimes couldn't even rely on himself. He kept Matthew tethered to the earth while Matthew in turn kept James from getting lost in his head. Matthew the kite, James the line. And without the line, Matthew wasn't sure what he was going to do.

Logically, he knew this would happen. James would die and Matthew would live on, unchanging. And one day he would realize he had lived more days without James than with him. The sense of panic he felt at the thought of forgetting his laugh, his dry wit, the specific way he annotated his books, even the way he made his tea, was so strong it almost knocked the breath out of him.

But as he takes in the face of his parabatai, his best friend, that panic winks out as quick as it came. Matthew's death was uncertain, but it wouldn't evade him forever. And although Matthew never considered himself a spiritual man, he believed that he would see James again. He had to believe that, otherwise he knew that his grief would threaten to eat him alive. Matthew knew that James' grief had threatened to eat him alive, too, after Cordelia's passing. If Matthew can gift his friend a peaceful end, he hopes with everything he has that Cordelia will be there to guide James home.

James dies not in the thick of battle or at the vicious claws of a demon, but in his bed, left hand held in the iron grip of his parabatai. He dies gently, quietly, breath suddenly stopping, hands going limp at his sides. Matthew hears his heart stop beating before James even exhales for that final time, pressing his forehead to his friend's and letting himself cry, guttural and grief stricken, unashamedly weeping into his parabatai's neck. Distantly, he hears his godson enter the room despite the late hour. Distantly, he sees Owen fall to his knees next to his father's bedside and clutch at his arm, joining Matthew in his lamentation.

And so, he holds onto James' hand and he cries. And he hopes with everything he has that he will see him again. He keeps that hope in his chest, a lighthouse on a distant, stormy shore, as he closes his parabatai's eyes and whispers, "Ave atque vale, Jamie bach. Hail and farewell."

#my first fanfic #i made myself sad #tsc #tlh #matthew fairchild #james herondale #i love them so much but they hurt me #tw talk of death and the afterlife #full of angst #sorry y'all #owen herondale #the dates of james and cordelia's deaths are from the v inaccurate family tree btw so take em with a grain of salt besties

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thetorturerwrites · 4 years

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Lamb: Ch 2 - Someone Like You

***This amazing artwork was gifted to me by @elmidol. Please do not re-use or re-post it without permission from them and/or myself. Don’t be a dickbag.

Previous Chapter

Summary: “You need someone in the middle—not dead, not alive.” You arched upwards, trying to get even a bit of slack, just enough to speak. “Someone like me.”

C/N: Look - If you’re new here, this is adult shit. If you’re not new here, you know what my C/Ns are about. Be warned.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Did I ever think I would be writing about Kylo and babies? No. No, I did not. Am I writing about Kylo and babies? Maybe. Its a crazy, crazy world, y'all.

Special thanks to @kylorengarbagedump for helping me edit this asshole of a chapter.

***

“Retribution.”

The word sounded ludicrous on his lips, infantile and irresponsible. Abruptly, you had a clearer picture of what was happening. In this mesmerizing nirvana, his encapsulated kingdom, you were a child, stumbling into an adult’s arena to demand attention.

Your senselessness laid bare, you stared at him, adrift in the gleam of irises that never settled on one color. The pregnant moon overhead framed him, adorning his breathtaking face with a perfect, glowing halo. He was unnaturally beautiful, the kind of king women wept for.

“Father...”

He met your whisper with a sneer, and you recoiled. He, too, thought your trek here was juvenile; you were just a witless woman wrestling with her emotions. Your heart sank at his judgment, disappointed that he thought you naïve.

Ashamed, you fixed your eyes upon a creeping succulent. You traced thick, tear-shaped leaves and winced at inch-long thorns. You could all but feel the phantom pinpricks. The red and pink blooms made for a variegated shroud to decorate the otherwise plain shrine.

It was lovely in its lethality, a fitting summation of this place.

“The Resistance slaughtered my planet, my ENTIRE family.”

You licked your lips and tugged at his sleeve, pulling yourself up to sit. Recognizing what you had just done, you wrung your hands, as though he was a walking electric current. Even so, he was the only bit of warmth in this melancholy vale, and you subconsciously leaned into it.

“You’re a fool.” He rose to an obscene height and moved away. “I care less than a whit for your holy wars. You murder on fantasy, not truth.”

The absence of his body was nearly as painful as his lack of understanding, and the resultant shout erupted before you could stop it.

“IT WAS NOT OUR WAR!”

Your exclamation bounced off shedding trees to die away in spongy, mossy hills. Sniffling, you pressed the heels of your hands into exhausted eyes. Yelling at men was an awful idea; yelling at this specific man was the epitome of lunacy.

How were you going to explain the hole in your soul to a creature who had none? To Ren, your mourning and loss were just specks in eternity, but he didn’t spend his days loving the living only to lose them. If your grandmother's stories were true, he had been this walking void since his creation.

And the brothers made themselves a land with a great vault separating light from dark. In their wisdom, they decreed the living would gather under golden sun, and the dead would gather under silver moon. Grandfather Sky Walker gave his blessing: Let them rule over these lands through all ages. Let there be day and night, and let them usher in The Balance.

He was here. It was true.

That cast his indifference into an unusual shade of acceptance. Like this place, he existed outside of the universe’s organic stream. It wasn’t a lack of feeling; it was one colored by millennia of demise.

You were struck by the understanding that he made everything here in his image, all of it immaculate, alluring, and fatal. Just as he was.

“The Resistance decimated my planet on a rumor—a rumor that we were a First Order cult.” Your voice was steadier than you expected. “But my family, my friends and everybody I knew...We were just ordinary people.”

You lifted your eyes and found him examining you, a curious look playing across his striking features. You huffed a pained breath and looked away again, fearing you would shatter under his scrutiny.

“My grandmother believed in the Balance, not in some notion of wiping the Galaxy clean of Soloists.”

His silence was deliberate, aimed to unnerve, and you crumpled forward, bending as though you could implore his aid into reality. When he moved, it was to stalk a circle around the altar. His head cocked to assess your every angle. Captured prey, you could do nothing but watch, wait, wonder.

“Belief in the Balance will not return your family. Nor will I.”

His glorious voice had bite; but where there should be an echo, there was none. Every lilting tree, every swaying vine, even the very air enveloped him, moved with him, absorbed his energy.

Hugging yourself, you fought down your apprehension.

“No, it won’t.”

You looked past him to fat carmine leaves and marveled at how they turned their faces towards The Ren, their master.

He only understood in terms of the absolute.

“I came to ask you to kill them—the people who murdered my family. The Resistance.”

His circuitous pacing ended at your front, and he speared you with such a look you felt conquered. If he was the next crusade, the holy war renewed, you would fight for him, lay down and die for him.

His long fingers slid you to the altar's precarious edge. So near to him, your comatose heartbeat increased, thudding against ribs his knuckles skimmed.

“All of them?”

You nodded, meek and uncertain. He stepped in, spreading your legs wide just by his body’s substantial design. He was the epitome of domineering, his shape meant to terrorize the weak, to endure immortality.

Uncertain if you were allowed to put your hands on him, you braced against the slab, leaning slightly away.

The scent of this place, misty and piny and richly floral, was powerful, distilled to purity in his body. It seeped from his pores, the sumptuous belladonna curling around you like tainted tendrils. He obscured what scant light there was and blotted out your senses, filling your light head with dread and longing.

With one finger under your chin, he lifted your face and beckoned you into such a trance you didn’t notice how he lazily caressed your outer thigh. One by one, he tugged upon the plum, plump bows keeping the rest of you hidden.

“What price are you willing to pay for genocide, lost lamb?”

It was hypnotic—the timbre of his voice, the delicate dance of his fingertips, the starry shine of his eyes. You blinked at his question, too caught up in the slow drag of his knuckles along your sternum and down between your breasts.

Your lips worked feebly, discarding every suggestion your brain made. What could you offer a being such as this? Prayers? He would condemn them. Offerings? Paltry trinkets. Blood? You’d already given it. Pleasure? You weren’t sure he was capable.

It was a cruel game, and the realization burst over you like icy water, flooding your addled mind and shocking you back from stupidity.

You had nothing. Purposefully divested of everything, you sojourned here a destitute fool.

“There it is.” He brushed a thumb across your lips, smirking. “She understands now that she has nothing, is nothing, of value with which to bargain.”

He collected your silent tears and fed them to you, salt in the wound. Chidingly, he wrapped stiff fingers around your quivering neck and squeezed until you felt your supernaturally sustained pulse drumming in your ears.

“It is as I said. The dying lamb has no value to the shepherd.”

Fear licked at your nape, clamoring into the rational parts of you. Your mind whirred, desperately trying to unearth some kernel that would serve your purpose. There had to be something.

The memory struck you suddenly and at full velocity. Careening, your breath stopped. The lineage of Soloists was a pastime for your brother, who made you sit through innumerable sessions and lectures.

And Solo took himself a wife, making her flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone. Their union was prosperous, and she begat him many sons, the first being...

Your body shot into motion, vacating all self-preservation. You grasped his hand and pulled it to your chest. You were even so bold as to thread your smaller fingers through his. On instinct, both legs wrapped around his hips, heels digging into his legs in a feeble hold.

You were unwilling to renounce your argument without a fight. Hastily, the words spilled out, a wishful wine you weren’t sure he would drink.

“NowaitIcanbeyourvessel!”

A perfectly sculpted black brow rose over his eye. He untangled his fingers from yours, scoffing. Your face burned, impossible beads of sweat forming at your pounding temples. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you pressed them to your flaming cheeks and tried to calm yourself.

“Choose your next words carefully.”

Entertained by the toddler, he was indulging your delusions, but there was a limit to his patience. Sturdy hands slid beneath your thighs, parting and lifting them so he could draw your hips further into his. You couldn’t argue; you were the one who stopped him from leaving.

Was that an erection you felt there? Was this proof to your curiosity? The possibility sent goose flesh tingling to every inch of your skin.

“Your brother... Ah!”

Athame in hand, he gouged the tip into your unblemished thigh, raising a lone drop of blood.

“Your brother has many children; does he not? There are stories about his prolific family.”

Out sized, you spiraled into anxious desire. When he tired of your nonsense, pulverizing your bones would be little more than a snap of his fingers. Yet, here he was, still wedged between your thighs and feeling a lot like a man who could make you forget your name.

“Reminding me of my brother is not the way to make your case, lamb.”

He dragged warm lips over your pulse, lathing it with his tongue. His wide palm wrapped around your generous hip, and every single thought fled on bated breath. He was woefully seductive, a wolf in shepherd's clothing.

You licked your lips and shook your head, trying to agree and clear away cobwebs, but his hands and nipping kisses befuddled you so much you could only sputter half-formed words. Switching your concentration to the blade, you valiantly tried to keep track of it and tied yourself to it's path like a lifeline.

“But you don’t.” You splayed your fingers out wide, palms flat on the altar. "Your seed will kill a living woman, yes? But a woman already crossed over cannot carry a child."

You were about to launch yourself from the proverbial cliff. Regardless of what came next, you would be a splatter at its bottom.

“I- I can.” You begged the endless midnight sky to strengthen your resolve. “You can have me.”

He had been rubbing you up and down his rigid length, your body no more than an instrument to appease his ardor; but at your declaration, he gripped your hips painfully tight and bit your shoulder.

Attuned to his mood, the stars dimmed to a faint radiance. It was the one detail your brain could latch onto, the way even the greatest of them conformed to his will.

“You think that’s a novel gesture? That you’ll be the first person I’ve fucked here?” His voice was low but no less edgy. “How many would you wager have died screaming at the end of my dick?”

A pathetic whimper escaped your open mouth, and hunger set it to watering. The idea of him fucking you here, in this open clearing under his meticulously curated twilight, was salacious, tantalizing.

“Countless.” You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your hips, trying to jump start his back into rhythm. “But I would wager very few of them have been willing to bear your children.”

He growled, a vicious, threatening promise. His soft touch turned angry, coiling into your hair and yanking your head back. Your throat seized, elongated by his grip and fully bared for execution. What had been a grazing scratch of your blade turned again to a harsh point dug into the skin.

You could hardly speak, reduced to gaping at his flashing onyx eyes. They blazed with a fiery hatred, and you knew it was because you were right. It wasn’t easy for him like it was his brother. He had spent eons alone whereas his brother wanted for nothing.

It infuriated him.

“You need someone in the middle—not dead, not alive.” You arched upwards, trying to get even a bit of slack, just enough to speak. “Someone like me.”

He curved around you so tight you could smell the deadly nightshade on his breath, every single part of him designed to snuff out life. You chewed the inside of your cheek, wondering how each part of him tasted.

“Someone like you?” He spat the words, fingernails digging into your scalp. “Impure? Spoiled by how many men in your lifetime? Cowed by a little death and stupid enough to make demands of me?”

He was so close to snapping your neck, and you itched for it. You would gladly die at his hand, reunite with your family. All of these morose colors blended with the sorrow in your heart, and you pictured your bones rotting to dust, anchoring you here forever.

But he held off, glaring down at you in barely-checked contempt.

Caught between wanting to die and wanting to murder, your breathing tilted into erratic, skirting panic so closely a fallen eyelash would detonate the bomb in your chest.

He looked at you in such a way, though, that your apprehension settled. He was angry because he didn’t know how to feel things. He was intended, to his very marrow, to only ever take. Anything else was uncomfortable and worthy of destruction.

You nudged his nose with yours, a mirror to his earlier gesture.

“Someone willing.” It was less than a whisper, barely a breath.

His calculating gaze roamed your face, judging the depth of your commitment. In seconds, the pointed extension of his anger sliced down your supple thigh, cutting open a large gash.

But pain wasn’t his target.

His aim was true. The rogue missile was expertly guided. And when the thing forced into your cunt, you screamed in unmitigated horror.

“I’m no gentle lover, and this is not your marriage bed. Willing or not, the lamb is meant to be slaughtered.”

You splintered into a wrecked and blubbering mess, heaving and howling. You clung to his shoulders, gouging little crescents into his neck. You had expected to die today but not by the blade cleaving apart your pussy. Offering him your womb seemed to make him only want to carve it from your body, a trophy to mark your idiocy.

“You should not offer things that don’t belong to you, lamb.” The vibration tickled your earlobe, drawing you down from your mania. “Your body was mine the moment you crossed into my land.”

You felt it then, the shift and nudge inside your cunt. Where you were certain there had been a sharp edge, there was only an ornately ridged column, handcrafted and safe.

It was the hilt.

The wave of frenzy crested, and you opened puffy, red eyes onto a lucent, luminous moon.

He had buried the knife’s handle into your cunt and was pumping it slowly. He held the traitorous blade without even a single red cell shed.

You wailed a halfhearted objection because this was a profane corruption of a consecrated relic. A particularly long drag of the makeshift phallus countered and shook loose a vulgar moan, and you squeezed tight around it.

It was shameless and sacrilegious.

And it felt so, so good.

You whimpered when he licked your lower lip, barely making contact. Your thighs splayed wide, eager, and an appreciative noise rumbled in his throat. He rewarded your responsiveness with another slow, deep plunge of the weapon, and your head lolled back.

“How is your religion serving you now, lamb?”

He shoved the handle as far into you as the guard would allow and worked it back and forth, rubbing the ridges and pommel against the sensitive spots inside. You moaned sinfully loud, and grasped at him.

He was ruthless, prodding the elusive bumpy patch until you bucked against his hand and watching you float through this immoral delirium.

You wished it was him. His mouth, his fingers, his cock. Anything but this false idol ramming into your pussy.

Your whimpers turned to pleasured cries. Your calves tensed and shook. Looking down on his blasphemous claim, you yelped and pushed at his arms, the torrent of blood splashed over your thighs and sex wrenching you from your high.

In your hysteria, you’d forgotten that he’d sliced open your leg.

“Father, please…”

He dug his thumb firmly into the wound, gripping nearly your entire thigh in the one tremendous hand. For a moment, the throb in your pussy traveled up to swirl around the intrusion, and you writhed to get away.

“If you call me that again,” he bit your jaw, raising a welt, “I will slit you open from cunt to crown.”

He played in the plasma, coating his fingers with it. You whined and grimaced, caught between salvation at your cunt and persecution at your leg. When his tacky thumb connected with your clit, you shouted, wracked with tremors. Like a savage, he masturbated you with your own blood, rubbing fast circles.

Rapture barreled down the length of your spine, working its way through every extremity. You were going to cum for him, at the end of your family's treasured athame, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

It was indecent, and you drowned in it. You collapsed back onto the altar, arching up into a delicious bow. Your knees drew up higher, and your hips worked for him, chasing what he dangled but never quite delivered. Your fingers scrambled against the uneven stone and fisted the velvet garment.

Your insides coiled, churning terror and thirst together until you couldn’t tell one from the other. Inching closer and closer to that crack of lightning, your cries built, a tumultuous, hoarse crescendo. You thought he would make you tow that line forever, so close to bliss but never allowed to feel it.

But finally, mercifully, it came.

A blistering exaltation slid over your every nerve. Your cunt clenched and quaked, gushing a lewd prayer. The knife in his hand was the center of all gravity, and every part of you swiveled around it, rolling and bucking and shaking. You hurled a string of curses no priestess should ever know, earning a derisive chuckle.

“Such filth from that pretty mouth.”

Spent, your back finally met the slab beneath, and you fought for breath, chest stinging and throat crackly. A pained whine escaped when his torture implement departed from your slick center, but he gave you only a brief reprieve.

He climbed above you, dropped his heavy knee onto your sensitive mound, and shoved the sullied hilt into your mouth. Your eyes flew open, but he captured your jaw and kept it in place, ensuring that you held the thing upright.

Copper tang pooled on your tongue and wafted under your nose. On a muffled whinge, your eyes rolled back into your head. Automatically, obediently, you rocked your hips under his trap.

“No less than you deserve.” He was all spite and venom. “Swallow.”

You couldn’t look at him, the stars in his eyes daunting and demonic. Your tongue moved around the hilt, licking away the remnants of your vulgar display. You curled your fingers into the hem of his shirt, exhaled slowly through your nose, and complied, gulping the taste down.

A timid glance found him studying you, but you didn’t know what he was seeking. Obedience? Passion? Reverence? The gravity of the moment was inescapable. He was deciding if you died here and now, and he gagged you from making any further entreaty.

Lithe for his size, he slid from the perch and pulled the athame from your mouth. Silently, he lifted you from the slab and dropped you on the ground. Not knowing if any of the flora was poisonous, you squealed, shot to your feet, and clutched the abused blade to your heart. A second later, you nearly impaled yourself with it when he threw the hefty book at you.

Grateful that he didn’t destroy your remaining link to your family, you sunk to the ground and dug aching fingers into the dirt. It was cool and soothing, and you wanted nothing more than to lie down in it and die.

Instead, you watched, benumbed and mute, as he punched a large hole straight through the center of the altar. It should have been alarming; the crash of rubble should have scared you, but your senses were far past overstimulated.

Silently, he manipulated a chunk of the altar into a slender loop.

It was astonishing. He was literally creating something from stone that should have been unyielding. Crouching beside you, he pushed your chin up to lengthen your neck. It was then you understood what was happening. The thing he was fashioning out of the imbrued marble was for you.

Without a word, he molded it around your neck, cementing it with a pinch of his mighty fingers.

His masquerade as a man fell away. That shrine had stood for a thousand years, likely more, and he demolished it as though it was parchment. He had desecrated the altar to enslave you, spinning an infinite bondage into existence with his very will alone.

The strength, the unfathomable power unleashed a yearning you weren't prepared to address. He was something wholly beyond what you'd been taught. He was profound, unknowable.

You ran your fingertips along the jagged edges and discovered his collar was perfectly measured to your size. His fingers would fit between it and your skin, but nothing more.

Every story you ever heard about this place rang in your ears, a raucous chorus of warnings. The living could not stay here, nor could they take anything from here.

But it was too late.

By your own hand, you now existed between life and death, trapped here by this pillaged, obsidian tether and it's king.

You didn’t know if he would do as you asked or if he would make you bear his children.

You did know that you would never be leaving.

#kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #kylo x reader #lamb

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devourer--of--books · 4 years

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SGE x PJO AU: wiki pages

PART I: Hester

Okay, so hm, before we start.

Warning: some minor cursing, as well as spoilers for all percy jackson and the olympians, heroes of olympus and school for good and evil books. Basic knowledge of the main plot points is heavily recommended.

Now that that’s out of the way, an unnecessary note:

I was unsure on how to structure this au, as I was originally going through the events of the novels book by book, but turns out that made the posts way too long (longer than they already are) and more like a mini-fic than an au post, so, for now, we’re sticking to a character-based wiki-like structure, one at a time.

This is obviously an au, so while we'll follow loosely the events of the riordan-verse, there's many tweaks, so it's easier to follow if you're familiar with the canon material but hopefully, I'll be able to answer any questions y'all might have.

I just might do mini-fic posts or write a one-shot or two, but that takes a while so maybe tell me if you’d be interested in that, because as usual, I am fueled by validation.

This is so goddamn self-indulgent.

Hester Ravenswood

Daughter of Nemesis

Occupation: Head counselor of cabin 19 / High school student.

Early years: Used to live with her father, until he tragically died in a mysterious factory fire when she was 10.

It is unknown how Hester got to camp, aside from the vague explanation she gives to Sophie and Agatha: she ran away from an orphanage and her mother guided her to Camp Half-Blood using dreams. She arrived at camp in the same night as Chaddick Edwards, and witnessed his death at Half-Blood Hill.

Camp years: Hester used to be a year-round camper at cabin 11. Since Nemesis didn’t have an actual cabin at the time, Hester was placed there, as per camp tradition, and while she often flaunted her parentage, she never got officially claimed.

Within her first year, Hester dueled an older, unnamed demigod for a bunk bed at cabin 11. She wins the duel, but ends up with a bad reputation as a “shady back-stabber” around camp, due to her use of a hidden knife to win. The bottom bed of said bunk used to be always empty, despite Hermes’ cabin being very crowded, until Agatha’s arrival a few years later.

Hester is the third member of the quest to retrieve Zeus’ lighting bolt, alongside newcomers Agatha and Sophie.

The following summer, she runs away from camp with Sophie Martin to help on the quest for the golden fleece.

Later that year, she participates in the mission to retrieve Yara and Willam Thomas from Westover Hall.

During the quest to rescue Artemis, Hester is absent due to being given another quest by oracle/camp director August Sader: scouting the labyrinth.

Next summer she leads the quest to find Daedalus, but after the incident in Hephaestus’ forges, she chooses to remain at camp to prepare for Kronos’ invasion, as well as aiding Dot Nottingham with Anadil Bloodbrook’s recovery after her time wandering by herself in the labyrinth.

A year later, Hester and Agatha blow up the Princess Andromeda cruise together, and she is heavily involved in the events leading to and during the Battle of Manhattan. Hester and Anadil are responsible for convincing a few minor gods, including Hester’s mother, to betray Kronos and help the campers fight off his army once Kronos cuts off connection between himself (alongside Sophie, Agatha and Yara) and his army to get to Olympus.

Post-war, she attends school alongside Dot Nottingham. It’s unknown what she plans to do after graduating, though it’s implied she might have to retake the year, as she often skipped classes to look for Agatha with Sophie. In one of those missions, Nemesis guides Hester to rescue Nicola Saylor, bringing her to Camp Half-Blood.

Currently: Hester is one of the seven demigods of the prophecy, and is abord the Argo II, headed towards Camp Jupiter.

Connections:

Dot Nottingham

While Hester mostly kept to herself during her first years at Camp Half-Blood, she has a secret soft spot for Dot, as she once overheard the girl standing up for her against Beatrix Jolie.

She is the one that teaches Dot how to use a dagger.

Every year, Dot offerers to house Hester for the school year, and every year she refuses, until after the Battle of Manhattan, when she accepts the invitation.

Agatha Schwartz

Hester and Agatha become friends shortly after her arrival, alongside Sophie, at Camp Half-Blood, when Hester claims to be impressed by Agatha’s confrontation with Aric Lesso, which seemed to freak every other camper out.

Through the years, Hester develops a not-so-one-sided crush on her, leading to a, rather messy, undefined romantic relationship between them after Hester kissed Agatha at Mount Saint Helens, but the two decide they are better off as friends after the Battle of Manhattan.

Hester is greatly distraught by Agatha’s disappearance after the war and feels horribly guilty for ignoring Agatha’s attempts to contact her prior to it due to remaining pettiness post-break-up.

Sophie Martin

Off to a bad start upon meeting, the two become tentative friends during the quest to retrieve the lightning bolt, and they even manage to join forces to aid Agatha, Hort Scourie and Aric Lesso on their quest for the golden fleece.

However, Hester quickly grows suspicious that Sophie might be a spy for Rafal at camp. Once she hears that this accusation was proven true, during the quest to rescue Artemis, it causes an irreversible shift in their mostly playful previous dynamic, even though Sophie changes sides again after Rafal betrays her trust at Mount Tamalpais. The peak of their animosity is at their duel after “Agatha’s funeral”, in which Hester nearly strangles Sophie with her whip while blinded by grief, only stopping due to interference from Agatha herself.

Thankfully, things seem to have smoothed over between them after Sophie stabs, and sucessfully kills, Rafal in the Gods’ Throne Room, "ending” the Battle of Manhattan by keeping Kronos from destroying Olympus.

Sophie and Hester grow closer during Agatha’s disappearance, often meeting up for search missions whenever one of them believes to have a lead on their friend’s whereabouts.

Anadil Bloodbrook

Hester first meets Anadil during her first mission an the labyrinth, in which she manages to convince Anadil to help her escape Kronos’ forces, but isn’t able to take her along, feeling horrible guilt, believing Anadil to have been killed.

Once she learns that Anadil managed to escape and is actually alive, having been wandering through the maze on her own for months, Hester vows to save her, stepping down and handing over the quest for Daedalus to Agatha.

Hester manages to find Anadil, whose mind appears fragmented after so long in the labyrinth, and begs Dot to help her find a solution. The daughter of Dionysus eventually does, combining her mild influence over madness with Reena Shazabah’s healing talents as a daughter of Apollo.

Anadil and Hester keep in touch often after that, becoming very close friends and formulating a plan to secretly recruit minor gods and their children back to the olympian side.

The two of them start dating officially a few weeks after the end of the war and are currently still together.

Nemesis

Hester is contacted by her mother more often than most demigods, probably due to Nemesis status as a minor goddess. Nemesis offers to help Hester on occasion, but Hester always stresses that her mother is anything but kind; no help from her ever comes free of charge.

August Sader

Despite making a few jokes about the oracle’s host being past his prime, Hester shows a deep respect for the camp director, even if she doesn’t always agree with his tatics.

Reena Shazabah

Hester’s active dislike for Beatrix during her first few summers at camp lead to her passive dislike of all of the daughter of Aphrodite’s friends and flings, including Reena, but they eventually become friends and, after Reena aids Dot in healing Anadil’s mind, the two of them can often be spotted training together at the arena.

Rafal

While they were in the same cabin and Rafal was one of the few campers that didn’t avoid her, Hester tells Agatha she does not trust him.

Once Rafal reveals himself as Kronos’ son, offering Hester a spot in his army, due to her being a child of a minor goddess, she tells him to “get fucked” and stabs him in the arm with her dagger, establishing their dynamic for the rest of the war.

Nicola Saylor

Hester is initially resentful of Nicola, for her presence reminded Hester of her own failure to find Agatha, but once the roman girl reveals that Agatha was most likely stuck at Camp Jupiter without her memories, Hester starts acting less hostile towards her.

Yara Thomas

Hester is part of the rescue party that retrieves Yara and her brother Willan.

At first the two seemed to get along, but after Yara joins the Hunters their friendship sours, as Hester has a very strong disdain for the group.

However, they start talking again during the Battle of Manhattan and grow closer once Yara offers to try and track down Agatha once she goes missing.

The current status of their friendship is unknown, as Hester will probably be livid once she finds out Yara met amnesiac!Agatha at Camp Jupiter months prior to Nicola’s arrival at Camp Half-Blood.

Hort Scourie

She doesn’t really care much for Hort at all before he is revealed to be one of the seven, but tolerates his presence on occasion, though Hester does state that kicking his ass on the arena is one of her favorite hobbies.

Weapons and Powers: Hester is very skilled with daggers and knifes, though her weapon of choice is usually a whip given to her by her mother on a deal they made when Hester first found out she was a demigod. Whatever Hester had to give her mother to keep her end of the bargain is currently unknown.

The whip is shown to have a mind of its own, moving in fast snake-like motions that Sophie describes as “demonic”, glowing red when “awake”, but its use is rather dangerous for long periods of time, as it draws energy directly from Hester’s life force.

Hester has some sort of control over chance, being able to strike deals to tip the scales of balance in her favor, allowing her to succeed in unlikely situations, but more often than not, the price for doing so is way too high, being a last resort for her.

#school for good and evil #The School for Good and Evil #hester of ravenswood #hester sge #sge au

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backofthebookshelf · 5 years

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Book Recs for Magnus Archives Fans

I was just rambling in tags the other day about how my avatarsona was "the Archivist, but a public librarian: Oh, you like dirt?? Let me tell you all the dirt stories I have!!!!" so, uh, here I am I guess.

I'm gonna spare you all the M.R. James and Algernon Blackwood and House of Leaves and Blindsight; you know all that already. These are my horror backlist recs.

The Bone Key by Sarah Monette Y'all. Y'ALL. Kyle Murchison Booth was absolutely the Archivist before Gertrude. He was poached from the Parrington by the Usher Foundation and the Eye glommed onto him at once, because the Eye loves disaster queers who can't people right (and also Gertrude). This I believe to be true, and so will you.

Kyle Murchison Booth is an archivist at the Parrington Museum, which is somewhere in New England, sometime in the early twentieth century. He also has a lifelong entanglement with the supernatural which is almost entirely not his fault, and he would very much like it to stop, but he also feels responsible and he can't just let evil mirrors and cursed necklaces and possessed dressing gowns randomly eat people who have no idea what's happening. Even if it means he's going to suffer for it.

(This collection doesn't contain all of the Booth stories, so here I am going to link to "White Charles", which happens to be my very favorite Booth story.)

For you if your favorite part is: honestly everything about MAG, from the modern sensibilities about early twentieth-century-horror, truly eerie ghost stories, to suffering eldritch librarians (thanks to whoever tagged my most recent fic with that you're so valid), monsterfucking and soft gay pining. No happy endings here, sorry.

Bedfellow by Jeremy C. Shipp You may or may not have heard that Macmillan-Tor is launching a horror imprint, and I don't know how long it's been since a major publishing house has had a horror imprint, but I am EXCITE. This book is part of the trend that's the reason why: Tor.com has been publishing these kickass novellas for a couple years now, and their horror books are top notch.

One night a stranger knocks on a family's living room window and asks to be invited in. They ask him to stay the night. He's an old friend, after all, he needs a place to stay. You can't kick out your twin brother when he's just gotten divorced, no matter how much Gatorade he spills on your two-year-old hardwood floors.

For you if your favorite part is: the Stranger, this is all Stranger, it's terrifying and good.

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll A graphic novel, some of these were originally posted as webcomics (have you seen His Face All Red, and if not, why not???) and the only disadvantage to having them in book form is they can't blink at you. Probably. Very folktale-ish, with all the death and violence that implies, and also the slightly eerie feeling that you know this story already, and then it turns around and slaps you.

For you if your favorite part is: looking over your shoulder when the foley gets good; Once Upon a Time in Space (I know that's not technically part of the Magnus Archives but shush)

Universal Harvester by John Darnielle I am not usually a fan of artists who jump media. Just because you can write songs doesn't mean you can write novels. Apparently writing good songs doesn't mean you can't write good novels, though, because John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats (pretty sure that's his full name at this point) wrote Universal Harvester and I love him for it.

Jeremy works at a video rental place in Nevada, Iowa (it's pronounced Nah-vey-da, and yes it’s real, I've been there, and yes, it's probably haunted). It's the 1990s, and someone's been returning their VHS tapes with something on them that isn't just the movie. Footage that includes a barn that he recognizes, just outside of town.

Fair warning: this is not the kind of mystery that gets tied up in a nice bow at the end.

For you if your favorite part is: Jon losing it with paranoia in S2, The People's Church of the Divine Host, the Lonely

The Good House by Tananarive Due If this author's name is unfamiliar to you, RUN, do not walk, to your nearest internet bookseller and purchase every single one of her books immediately, you will not regret it. She also just came out with a documentary on black horror, Horror Noire, on the Shudder streaming service. They've got a free month if you aren't a horror movie person, it'd be worth your while. This book summary sounds like it's full of tropes. It is, but Due has the cred to write them well.

Angela Toussaint hopes to salvage her suffering marriage and her troubled relationship with her teenage son with a trip to her grandmother's house, a home so beloved the locals in small-town Washington state call it "The Good House," but tragedy strikes instead. Two years later she returns and finds that the tragedy isn't over, and it's not going to stop on its own.

For you if your favorite part is: the very practical statement-givers who know what's happening to them and Will Not Put Up With This Shit, the Desolation, the Hill Top Road statements

The Library at Mount Char by Scott Hawkins Is this horror disguised as fantasy? Found family disguised as horror? Grown-up Neil Gaiman? Less grimdark George R.R. Martin? Honestly I have no fucking idea, but it's amazing. Fair warning, unlike Magnus Archives, this deserves all kinds of trigger warnings, including but not necessarily limited to: sexual assault, torture, mental manipulation, dysfunctional families, incest(?)

Father is missing, and his twelve children (though extremely talented in their own ways, and not strictly speaking children any more) are at a loss without him. But also, without him, things are starting to seem different. He might be God? They might not be human? (They were probably human once.) He might not be God but maybe one of them might be next? If any of them survive.

For you if your favorite part is: slowly turning into a monster, the relationships between entities and avatars, monsters hot (not kidding about the trigger warnings)

The Loney by Andrew Michael Hurley I have to keep reminding myself that Magnus Archives isn't really folk horror, there are two separate (if related) strains of British horror here and folk horror is not the one we're on, but at the same time I really want a good creepy rural pagan cult to show up in the series, you know? Anyway.

When he was a child, our narrator used to go with his family on an Easter pilgrimage to shrine on a bleak stretch of Lancaster coastline locals called The Loney. His Catholic mother was searching for a cure for his older brother, and she was convinced if they kept going long enough she would be granted her wish. The locals, however, are not huge fans of her annual visits, and even less so when the boys become involved with the goings-on of a pair of glamorous tourists.

For you if your favorite part is: the Lukases, I didn't realize until I was writing this up that I'm picturing Moreland House in the exact place described by this book

Eutopia by David Nickle One thing I love about the historical statements in Magnus Archives is just how truly historical they are. There's almost nothing in "The Piper" that isn't historically accurate - yes, Wilfrid Owen spent several days in a trench underneath the shredded bodies of his fellow soldiers. Like. You can't make up horror worse than that. But then you add monsters and it gets good. And I'm a sucker for early-twentieth-century history, it's such a bonkers time.

It's 1911 and the new Eugenics Record Office is sending agents out to catalog the disabled, infirm, and otherwise undesirable members of society so they can figure out what to do about them. In the utopian town of Eliada, Idaho, Dr. Andrew Waggoner runs from the racism of American society and straight into the influence of Mister Juke, the most troubling patient in his new practice. (Trigger warnings for, obviously, a whole lot of ableism. Treated like the monstrousness it is, but there's a lot of it.)

For you if your favorite part is: learning history through horror, the Flesh

A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay I hate male writers writing about teenage girls, so you are going to have to trust me when I say that I had to check, several times while reading this book, to make sure that Paul Tremblay is actually a dude. He's very good. This book was kind of his breakout, so if you follow horror you've read it already, but if you don't necessarily then please do not miss it. His newer ones, Disappearance at Devil's Rock (Stranger, Spiral) and The Cabin at the End of the World (Slaughter, Extinction), are also good but not as good as this, I think.

Fourteen-year-old Marjorie is having a rough time - outbursts, hallucinations, paranoia. Treatment is difficult (and expensive) and her family ambivalent; they turn to a local Catholic priest, who recommends an exorcism and, to help manage those medical bills, a production company who's interested in filming a reality TV show about the process. Fifteen years later, Marjorie's sister deconstructs the now-famous show and wrestles with her own memories of childhood. Trigger warnings for ableism on the part of many of the characters, but not the narrative.

For you if your favorite part is: the Spiral, metafictional analysis of horror tropes

#the magnus archives #book recs #there's a lot of other things i could tag this as #but i wrote it for this fandom #is this a transparent excuse to get more people to read booth stories??#it is #it really is

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

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Survey #206

“have you ever wished for death and prayed all night for your last breath?”

Do you always read the book before you see a movie based on a book? No. When you’re out with friends, do they ever encourage you to spend money you should be saving? 1.) I don't hang out w/ anyone now, 2.) but even when I did, they all knew I didn't make money. Is there anything you’re trying to save up money for? What? Perpetually tattoos, I want a PS4 super badly to play a novel of games I've been dying to play (SotC and Spyro trilogy remaster, I'm @ing you so hard), I need a car soon as I plan to at least try and get my license in the near future, I'd love to always have enough to immediately go to Sara's in case of an emergency, a trip to South Africa... but those are gonna take a good while to complete. I have my priorities straight for when I get a job. Have you ever watched a movie you didn’t really want to see just because a friend asked you to? Yeah. Did you end up liking the movie, anyway? There's been many cases of the above situation, so I'm sure in some instances I have. Heard any great songs for the first time lately? What songs? Hmmm, quite a number. "Radio" by Rammstein is great, and I love "bury a friend" and "bad guy" by Billie Eilish. What is your favorite urban legend? m o t h m a n and the joysey devil. Probably top two. GAH I love so many though????????????? Like Skinwalkers?????????????? And WENDIGOS????????? Have you seen all the cool shit?????????????? Do you remember the last nightmare you had? What was it? No, thankfully. Have you ever hopped on any bandwagons? HAHA. Freshman year, high school... I "liked" screamo or alternative-type bands I'd barely ever listened to or even enjoyed to fit in with the emos aldkjfalkwejr. Are you an elitist (even a little bit) when it comes to anything? What? Definitely not a complete one, but I can get pretty annoyed if in WoW we're in a heroic dungeon and people don't know the mechanics you should have already learned + read new ones that're right there in the goddamn journal laksdjfaoweir and then some people just totally ignore your advice and alskdjfwleiruwqoeif x2. Then again I've been that confused asshole in a couple raiding situations BUT LOOK they're harder and I had too much to catch up on okay. Still no excuse by WHATEVER. Have elitists on a fansite ever intimidated or talked down to you? I don't believe so. Is there anything you swear you will never do again? A few things with certainty. How late do you usually stay awake? I can literally go to bed as early as 7 to as late as 11 or rarely later. I do NOT have a schedule. Started months ago, and at first it frustrated and stressed me out quite a bit, but by now, I've just accepted it for me. Do you have pets? If so, how did you choose their names? Teddy: sister named him, but I'm sure it was the "cute as a teddy bear" type thing; Bentley: no clue; Roman: it sounded majestic, cats are majestic; Venus: pretty, and her coloration is similar to the planet; Kaiju: totally badass for an iguana that's gonna grow to be a big 'ole scaly boy; and Mitsu: I had a theme of giving my rats cutesy "M" names. Do you ever buy special treats for your pets? Occasionally. Is just being fond of something enough, or does it take more than that to be a ‘real fan’? Did a middle school student write this? If you're pretty fond of something, there you go, you're a fan. Sure, some are more intense, but that doesn't make the more casual ones not "real." What type of fabric is most comfortable for clothing? Idk, I don't pay attention. If you wear one – bras with or without a wire? Christ, without. If you wear one – are you able to find cute bras in your size? HA. No. It is RARE I'll find a cute one, and that's always only online. Make pretty ones for plus-sized women a normal find, jfc. Idk why, but I am very picky with bras. Like good fucking luck seeing me without a shirt, so like,,,, why do I bother????? What length do you like your shorts to be? UM you will NOT see me in SHORTS. Have you ever cut off jeans or other pants and made them into shorts? Perhaps Mom has when I was a kid? But I have no memory of this ever happening. Have you cut the sleeves out of T-shirts to make tank tops? I don't think so. Have you ever modified a piece of clothing and hated how it turned out? ^ What was the last disappointing movie you saw? Ah jeez, what's the last time I even watched one. Idk. What was the last disappointing book you read? And I haven't read a book in even longer. Is there anything you’re really excited about? JOB. OPPORTUNITIES. Do you ever watch compilation videos? Of what? Vines, like shit dude. I can go on massive binges. What was the last thing you rolled your eyes about? I don't recall. What would you consider the greatest song ever recorded? Why? Yeesh, that's a big thing to decide. I recently discovered "A Reason to Fight" by Disturbed though, and it is. Incredible. Just read the lyrics to refresh my mind, and yeah, goosebumps. Do you like Hellboy? If so, do you prefer the old movies or the new one? Never seen any. Favorite Disney character who isn’t royalty? Dory, probably. But man, there's too many to choose from. Last thing you purchased just for fun? *shrugs* Do you even like behind-the-scenes stuff or does it ruin the magic for you? IF I'm real into the product, I love that stuff!! I've seen like every little BTS Silent Hill thing there is, probably, multiple hours' worth. What is your favorite thing about Mac computers? They're small and lightweight. What is your favorite thing about PCs? They generally hold much more memory. What are some errands you need to run soon? I don't have "errands" yet. Have your parents ever tried to convince people there was something wrong with you, when their “diagnosis” wasn’t accurate? No. List 3 of your best memories, times you wish you could go back and repeat. In no order, just as they come to me: 1.) First hug with Sara when we met at the airport; 2.) THE LOOK ON SARA'S FACE when she saw me in her room on her birthday (probably fave memory of all time, actually); 3.) seeing meerkats for the first time at the zoo. Ohhhh or maybe the true realization I was happy without Jason. But idk, that was SUCH a gradual process where I didn't feel ecstasy in like one moment. What color was your high school graduation gown? Ew, it was this obnoxious red. The majority apparently voted for it, while I was on the navy team. Are your parents’ dreams for your life different than your own? Mom's pretty dead-set on me being a vet, but she doesn't try to push me into it or anything. I know she just wants happiness for me. I haven't got a clue about Dad. Have your dreams for your life changed? Of course. What are your dreams now? HAPPY, stable job that I thoroughly enjoy, well-off financially (I don't aim to be rich, just "safe," you could say), healthy marriage, own my own home, travel to a few places, did y'all think I was gonna forget "meet Mark???"... stuff like that. What was your dream as a child? It changed plenty of times, but my earliest goal was to be a paleontologist. Do you feel safe in your country? Sure, I guess. Safer than most places. If applicable, do you feel safe at your school? N/A Would you ever want to learn sign language? It'd be cool, sure, but it's not something I'm interested in pursuing. How many meals do you eat a day? 2-3. Sometimes just one "real" meal. Do you own any succulents? No. What color are your walls? A hideous puke green. Why. What color were the walls in the bedroom you grew up in? I don't remember at all. What was the last song you listened to on repeat? "Love Falls" by HELLYEAH. What is your favorite style (or styles) of dance? Modern. Have you ever performed a solo dance in front of a crowd? No. Have you ever sung a solo? No. Which insects are you afraid of? Most, really. Do you think it’s silly to be afraid of an insect, when it’s so tiny? It depends on the insect, of course. Even if I do know what it is and it's "safe," I'll still typically freak if it surprises me. When was the last time you had a deep conversation with someone? Hmmm. Sara, I believe? What are you waiting for? Jesus FUCKING Christ on a bike a job. What do you usually feel like doing the most at home? Stuff on the laptop. What grade were you in when you had your first crush? I don't remember... For "puppy dog love," I believe maybe the 4th grade, but I may be wrong. I'd say my first *real* crush was on a guy named Sebastian in my freshman year of high school. Shit man, did a lot go down my freshman year. I'm just reminiscing and crushes jumped between like five dudes 'til Jason won. At what age did you start experiencing sexual attraction, if any? Some time in middle school, I think? Like that's when I had my first bisexuality crisis: 6th or 7th grade. Have you ever split open a rock with a hammer, to see the glitter inside? No, but FUCK I WANNA. What type of tree do you see the most of where you live? There's a pine tree outside my window. Oh, and there's a pine tree in my back yard. Oh, what's that across the road? Woods of pine trees. Where do all birds in NC live? In pine trees. What does our air smell like? Pine trees. Where is your favorite place you’ve lived? My previous home as far as location; house itself, where I am now. It's got its issues, but it's cozy and a perfect size for just two people. What states have you lived in? Just 'ole North Carolina. Take me awaaaaaaaaaaaay- Do you wish you were someone else? Sometimes. What is your favorite thing about the month in which it is now? Literally just flowers. That's it. It. Everything else can suck a legion of dicks. Who were your best friends in high school? Hannia, Girt, Jason (if he counts), Alon, Maria... I had a few "best" ones. ^Are they still your best friends now? Girt is my closest thing to a "best friend" if you don't include my girlfriend. Do you live near the mountains? No, they're on the opposite end of the state. ;___; Do you live near a beach? We're like, two-ish hours away. What is your favorite beach that you’ve been to? Idk and idc, beaches aren't my thing. Do you collect seashells? Not seriously, but I'll keep a cool one if I find one. If you were to start a new collection, what would it be? If I was not ashamed of looking like a 23-y/o pre-teen in love with Just Bieber, I'd have more Markiplier merch than you'd fucking believe. (One of my biggest regrets in life was not buying the tasteful nudes calendar; I will eternally smite myself for being too embarrassed to have to explain why I would have that hanging above my bed rip.) If you had to pick one year and describe it as the best year of your life that you want to relive again, which year would it be? 2017 was fuckin litty titty. Is your world view the same as your parents’? In some ways with Mom, and I do know Dad and I differ on a few things. Well, if I learned more about his more political beliefs, I feel I'd probably disagree with most. What color are your glasses, if applicable? Black. Are you the person you thought you’d be when you were younger? No. Are you a confrontational person, or the peacekeeper? I'm a massive peacekeeper. I avoid confrontation like the PLAGUE. Do you like to read? Not nearly as much as I used to. Like all I ever read nowadays are RP posts as I obviously have to reply to them, but if they're long, it is common I procrastinate on reading it... ;_; Do you sleep too much or not enough? Probably too much, especially when I go to bed early. Although, I do wake up throughout the night and sometimes officially pretty early. Then some days I have a 1-2 hour nap, so that just adds to it. Who is your best friend? Sara. <3 How did you two meet? YouTube. How did you meet your current bf/gf? ^ How far away is your closest family member? Well I live with my mom, but she's at work atm. The last time you did something with BOTH of your parents was? BOY OH FUCKING BOY. My mom's the most bitter witch towards him, so even for family events, Dad usually only stops by to avoid creating a goddamn wreck, such as at birthday dinners. I think the last time they were in the same house was for my nephew's birthday half a year ago, I believe. What’s your favorite holiday? Halloween!!! Now that I have a niece and nephew who grasp the concept of Santa, Christmas is also really special to me. I don't want kids, but watching those sweethearts get so excited over their presents is magical. For me personally, the holiday has grown more and more about celebrating family, especially as we continue to branch out/go our own ways. So I guess I like the idea of Halloween better and would enjoy it more if I actually had something to do, but as far as joy goes, Christmas. Do you like pumpkin pie? I hate anything and everything pumpkin-flavored. The last time you went to the doctor, what were you there for? It was the see my psychiatrist. Do you take any medication regularly? Yeah. Is there any particular view you have on insane people? I see "insane" versus "sane" as far more of a gradient shift instead of a direct split; there're levels. I actually do legitimately think I at some juncture in the aftermath of the breakup qualified as slightly insane, yet I wasn't dangerous or entirely out of touch with reality. So if you tell me someone's actually insane, I'm going to fear them being the explosive, entirely unpredictable and loopy kind, but I know the person may be calm and somewhat stable on the outside, too. You gotta consider the severity. Do you believe in any conspiracies? 9/11 was orchestrated by the government and you cannot change my mind. I'm not totally sold on this one and lean more towards "nah" (I think), but the "we live in a simulation by a future civilization" is not that far-fetched at all if you actually look into it. It's very interesting, whether or not you're sold on it. Hell, Neil deGrasse Tyson firmly believes in it. Out of your friends, who is the funniest? Girt makes me laugh at the snap of his fingers, it seems. Anything you need to get rid of? I'm sure somewhere... Do you have any wasted talents? Animal knowledge and compassion, probably... I know I could make a fantastic rehabilitator for animals, among a plethora of other animal-related preservation and protection actions I could actively engage in. Well, I'm going back to school for zoology, but even now, I want to do more. There is a wildlife rehab place I may be able to volunteer at soon, tho! Mom's talking to a guy at work about me helping there. DAMN, livin a dream. Do you let the little things get to you? The issue could be as small as a single cell and it could still bother me. How often do you cry? Maybe once in a week, possibly longer. I don't know if you mean like really cry or just tear up/lightly cry. The latter is pretty common, but the other, not so much. Even if I want to cry, my jaw just entirely locks the hell up and I physically can't get it out. Is there anything you’re trying to prevent? I mean besides the common sense things everyone takes action to avoid, hm. I feel like there's so much, yet nothing is coming to me? Well, actually, it's usually a daily struggle to prevent at least one OCD cycle. When was the last time you were told you were cute? *shrug* When was the last time you were truly, completely happy with your life? It's been quite a while... At least over a year ago, when I began to get antsy with wanting a job and later going back to school. It just all started when I realized I was healed from the breakup and ready to move forward in life, but I wasn't. Do you miss the way things used to be between you and someone else? Multiple people. What colors has your hair been? Dirty blonde, brown, red, and purple. I've had red and purple highlights, and I naturally have blondish ones, too. I'm ready to dye it again, jfc. Most attempts are failures because my hair does NOT take color well whatsoever. It's only ever worked perfectly with the brand Splat, and my hair soaked in the dye for a LONG time before washing it out. Have you ever gotten burnt by a cigarette? No. Do you and your parents like any of the same bands/singers? We share interest in plenty of the same bands, Mom especially. Is there any food in your bedroom? What? No. Do you know anyone who has road rage? Who? MY LITTLE SISTER. Haven't seen the woman in three years, but I can promise you Jason's mom still has it to a legendary degree. How expensive is too expensive for a pair of shoes? I haven't looked for shoes in so long that I don't even know the average price. What kinds of cereal are in the cupboard? Honey Nut Cheerios, normal Cheerios I think, and we have a little bit of the chocolate chunk Special K cereal left over. It's got to be stale by now (it's not even closed fully); I need to remember to toss it. What’s the last thing you spent over $10 on? Ummm I'm not sure. Over $30? I think my tongue piercing was $40? Maybe even lower? Or slightly higher?? I don't remember. Do you know who lives three houses down from you? I think so. The one time I was locked out of my house in the snow with Teddy and I waited like a fucking hour until I broke down, absolutely freezing (I was in my pajamas, dude), and walked down the road to try and get help (I needed to call my mom, obviously, and I didn't have my phone), I believe it was the third neighbor who answered. Turned out being a retired deputy who was super intimidating yet kind at the same time; he let Teddy and me stay in his house (mind you, Teddy is incontinent and didn't have his diaper on, which I warned him about) while Mom was on her way home. He gave me a jacket and some water, even when I said I was fine, but you could tell he wasn't totally sure about trusting this random, sobbing girl at his door because he asked me a thousand questions about my story and quizzed if I really did live in this area. Obviously a good cop, but after a day like that, I was just terrified of an old man who appeared a bit gruff. But thankfully Mom got there to save the day and I am forever grateful for that guy. WOW what a story for a simple question. Is there a bulletin board in your room? No. Is your mom a big health freak or your dad? Or neither? "Health freak" seems a bit extreme for both of them, but Mom is more concerned about health in general. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? No. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards? We just have tortilla chips, I think. I try to keep snacks out of the house to avoid temptation, and who eats plain tortilla chips. Do you have your mom's or dad's hair? Mom's. What’s the first thing you see when you walk into your bedroom? Most would probably notice my Nightmare Before Christmas poster first, being as big as it is and on the wall opposite the entrance. Do you prefer the truth, even if it’s harsh? YES. I NEED to know this kinda stuff, even if the truth is really hard to hear. Do you have any friends who have naturally red hair? I don't think so. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired? I think I did when my very first band teacher did. EVERYONE loved him. Like, the entire school. Does your kitchen look like it was designed in a completely different decade? No? When’s the last time you wore heels? Great question. Probably not since my sister's wedding in '16. Do you have your mom’s or dad’s eyes? My grampa's on Mom's side. What’s the best date movie? Probably a rom com? Have your parents ever been out of the country? No. How many pairs of jeans, all together, are in your house? Zero. Do you swear and yell while playing video games? I'll swear under my breath or seethe in frustration, but I never yell. Is there any alcohol in the fridge? No. Has a best friend ever ditched you for a girlfriend/boyfriend? Pretty much. Whenever she starts dating a guy, she dips, and whenever/if ever we talk, she rambles absolutely endlessly about him. Do you know anyone who has grossly skinny eyebrows? I couldn't possibly care less about how your eyebrows look. Do your pets chase after bugs? Roman and Bentley sure do. Bentley is a Professional Fly Moncher, specifically. When’s the last time you were so excited you couldn’t sleep? Why? Uhhh good question. Probs the night before Sara got here for my b-day. What is your mom’s favorite movie? Hm, good question! I'd ask her, but I don't want her to ask me why I am lmao. What TV family reminds you of your own family? Probably none. Did you ever really believe that the stork brought babies? No. I don't remember what I thought, but I know it wasn't that. Do you have any relatives who really spoil you? No, I think? Well Dad gives my sisters and me way too much money for Christmas and always tells us to ask him if we need anything, but I pretty much never ask him for said things, so I don't know the extent he'd go. Are there any drawers in your house that are just filled with junk? Pretty much. Is the last person you spoke to in love? That's my mom, so I doubt that with all I know. Do you know anyone who has security cameras in their house? I don't believe so. What was the last movie to make you cry? I think the last was Coco. Moana may have made me tear up, but I can't remember... Has anyone you know ever pulled the fire alarm in school, joking around? Not to my memory. What time do you usually go to sleep at sleepovers, if ever? I haven't been to a sleepover in God knows how long. Who was the main character in the last book you read? Alice Liddell. Who are the last people you saw kiss? Via YouTube, Jeffree and his boyfriend. Irl, I don't know. Have you ever posted a fan fiction on a website? No. Do you ever fantasize about your future wedding? Who’s the bride/groom? Not very much. Like I've had brief daydreams about it, sure, but it's not something that's on my mind a lot. Still got a long time before that happens. What was the last unpleasant thing to wake you up? My cat not knowing how to keep his mouth shut. Would you rather look at clouds or stars? Stars. Well, it depends; stars if we're in a completely isolated area where you can see them crystal clear or the clouds are boring, but otherwise, clouds if their design and colors are cool. Do you have any relatives who are expecting a baby really soon? No. Do you ever wonder what the opposite sex do at sleepovers? No. When you get married, who will be the maid of honor/best man? My mom, no questions asked. When’s the last time you broke plans? Why? I wasn't feeling well. I was supposed to see my VR coach that day. Have you ever been in a wedding? What were you? Yes, my sister's. I was a bridesmaid. It was an absolutely awful experience because I was hot as fuck, it was triggering as HELL with me still grieving Jason, and I felt positively hideous in a dress when I was at such a horrible weight. I wish so dearly I could redo that day; I fell like I put a serious damper on my sister's big day. Would you feel safer with an alarm system or security cameras? Hm, depends on the scenario... I guess an alarm system? Like security cameras will show a murderer climbing through my window, but they're not gonna wake me up to save my ass. Does it matter to you what kind of shampoo you use? So long it smells nice, isn't watery, and doesn't only add oil to my hair, I don't care much. Has a stray dog ever tried to bite you? No. When riding a bus, do you prefer to sit in front, in the back, or in the middle? Hm... idk. When I took the bus home with Jason, we always sat in the back, and that's really the only time I took a bus regularly. I think otherwise, I'd prefer the middle, closer to the front? I think I usually did that on occasions like band competitions and such. Have you ever been on a cross-country train ride? No. Are you normally a person to tell people off? No, that's rare. Is there any TV show that ended that you wish hadn’t? Meerkat Manor. Though I would hope they'd lessen down on the false story-telling. Stick to the true KMP events. When you feel stressed, do you take things out on the wrong people? Sometimes. Do you even wear any jeans other than skinny anymore? I don't wear jeans period. What did you talk about at lunch today with your friends? N/A Are you sensitive to caffeine? Definitely not. My system's too used to it, probably. How do you usually get around? Mom drives me. I'm 23. :^) Which languages do you wish you could speak fluently in? German. Have you ever been accused of being too clingy? SURPRISINGLY no, at least to my memory. Do you like Vitamin Water? Never tried, don't want to. What was the last thing you took a picture of? Dad and me on his birthday. Do you know anyone that uses Sprint as their phone carrier? Idk. Well, I think. When you go to McDonalds, what drink do you usually get? Coke. Do you have a Kindle or iPad or neither? Neither. Would you rather read or write? Write. When was the last time someone took a picture of you? Sometime during Bobby's visit literally days ago. I already forgot who took it... and who else was in it lmao. Do you own a pair of slippers? Yeah, two. A meerkat pair and then a far less extra pair that're closer to socks. I think they have cats on them? I got them for Christmas I think and haven't worn or seen them much. Would you rather see Taylor Swift or Carrie Underwood in concert? Not a fan of either, but Carrie Underwood is more tolerable and even has a couple songs I enjoy. Name something negative that you hate about yourself: I'll jump to a conclusion within .02 seconds of something negative happening. Or not even "negative" or something that's purely in my head. Is your house currently hot, cold or just right? The house itself is fine, and my room is just right because I have my fan on. Is there a Dead End road near where you live? I can't think of one off the top of my head, but it's likely, really. There's lots of those here. Growing up, did you see your cousins often? No. We live many states away on both parents' sides. Where was your first job at? GameStop. Who are you tired of seeing in the news a lot? (Celebrities) It's been like two days and I'm over seeing the James Charles/Tati drama everywhere. You can't be interested in the YouTube community without being drowned in that shit right now somehow someway on any YT-coverage page and YouTube itself. Have you ever had to call and complain about a product you bought? I personally haven't. Would you date someone who’s shorter than you? I very openly and severely judge you if fucking height means that much to you. Do you mind being the third wheel? Not really, no. I'd only feel uncomfortable if they were getting pretty intimate. Has a kiss ever made you weak in the knees? Um I didn't know that was actually a thing so no. Do you feel comfortable buying condoms? Never been in that position. Have you ever dated two people at once? No. Have you ever been tested for STDs? No. Well wait, that time I gave blood I probably was just out of safety protocol. Have you ever run into your ex with his/her new sweetie? No. Have you ever felt guilty after doing something sexual? When I was in that "wait does this break the abstinence rule" phase, yeah. God was I technical. Have you ever had a condom break during sex? N/A Do your parents know if you’re having sex? Well considering I'm with a girl and she lives states away, that answer's obvious. Do you eat chips or crackers more? Chips. Would you rather be a singer or a dancer? A dancer. Would you rather be a musician or a painter? A painter, maybe? If I could play the electric guitar, though... idk. What social media sites do you visit the most? Facebook. What did you hair look like in high school? Long, thick as fuck, brown (or dyed black) with some sort of highlight, and it was split to the left with the hair swooped over my right eye. Basically "I want the emo swoop but my hair is too fucking thick to obey hairspray." :^) Which dollar store do you shop at? Depends on what's closest, usually. We rarely ever stop at one unless it's for candy to bring into the movie theater, seriously lol. I think usually Dollar General? Do you prefer candy corn or conversation hearts? WE DON'T KNOW EITHER. Skeletons or scarecrows? s k e l l y b o y s Has anyone ever given you the silent treatment? Yep. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had in your mouth? I learned on that day I hate giving blowjobs. Has anyone ever threatened you with a knife? No, thankfully. (If you’re a girl) Has anyone ever called you ‘shortie’ instead of girl? BOY I would fucking cackle. I hate that word. No. Do you ever watch The Simpsons? No. Have you ever sent an embarrassing moment of yours into a mag to be printed? OH MY GOD I remember that!!! But no. What IS your most embarrassing moment? Too lazy to go through the novel of 'em to pick the worst. Do you think you’re more cute or sexy? You assume I find myself either. Do you own any mini skirts? I don't own any skirts period. Do you draw little hearts and stuff with eyeliner next to your eyes? No. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever lost? Idk. Has your mom ever lied to you? I'm sure she has before. Do you have a deep voice? For a girl, yeah. When’s the last time someone made breakfast for you? *shrugs* Exclusively for me, probably never. Do you do something new with your hair practically every day? No, it's the same everyday. When someone knocks on the door, who do you think it is? Delivery guy. Has anyone ever licked your foot? Ew no. Do you play games with boys/girls, like ‘hard to get’? I'm not 15. Has a guy ever quoted a romantic Shakespeare line to you? No, and I'm glad, as I'd cringe into another realm. Is there a Sonic where you live? Yes, I LIVE- Do you smile with your teeth? Usually. I look less high, at least. What did you eat for lunch today? A pb&j. What do you like on your pizza? Pepperoni, jalapenos, or meat lovers. What is in the back seat of your car right now? I don't own a personal car. Mom has a a load of stuff in the back of hers, at least I think... That's super rare, but she's been so ungodly busy idk if she's had time to clean it out. I haven't paid attention so can't recall. What was the last thing you threw up? Idr. Menthol or regular cigarettes? I don't smoke and never have, so idk. What is your favorite episode of Friends? I don't watch it, and I haven't seen many episodes at all if for whatever reason I was in a room and it was on. Does anyone have any blackmail on you? No. Have you been to a strip club? No. What’s the last sporting event you watched? Hell if I remember. It had to either be my 16th birthday when Jason's family was all together watching the Super Bowl, or a hockey game with my dad. Last person’s house you were in? Besides my own, my sister's. Who is the last person you sent a message to on Facebook? Nicole. Ever go to camp? No. Were you an honor roll student in school? Yeah. Do you have a tan? HA no. How old do you want to be when you have kids? I don't want kids. Are you someone’s best friend? Yeah. Favorite gemstone? Dragon's breath opal. Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive thru, almost always. Does your first memory involve your dad? No. When was the last time you went swimming? Last summer at the beach. Holy fuck the water was so perfect. Has your luggage ever gotten lost? No. Have you ever thought it would be cool to smash a guitar? No. Like... just why. Do you ever get flu shots? No.

#survey #quiz #questions #random

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shay-iamiam · 6 years

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°Still| Part 2°

Pairings: Boxer!Bucky x poc! reader (If your not a poc you can still fully enjoy this 😌)

Warnings: Fluff and Angst

A/N: I hope y'all enjoy the fluff in this part... Because the next part.. well it's going to go down hill.

Part 1

| WC: 1.6k

You weren’t vain, you personally didn’t care about looks you knew the inside matter the most, but Bucky’s face was wrecked. His eye was swollen shut a busted lip and his body was covered in dark purple bruises.

He fought twice this week and he won both but you didn’t care about that. It was already breaking you knowing he was fighting for your future together; it made it more painful when he would come thru the door barely able to stand up straight.

Tonight was know different. Bucky decided to train even in his condition. He came thru the apartment door barely able to stand up straight.

“Bucky what the hell!” You charged over towards the front door ready to catch Bucky as he limped in. He promised he wouldn’t train today, you woke up late that day to see the other side of the bed empty.

“You should’ve stayed home today.” You squeezed the bridge of your nose, it wasn’t that you were “mad” at him it was the fact that he countied to split himself in two.

“It’s not a big deal sugar.” Every word he spoke slurred due to his busted lip. He always tried to sugar coat things, trying to soften the blow as much as he could for your sake. But nothing could take away the pain you felt when you saw him hurt.

You ran to the kitchen searching thru the freezer for a cold compress. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your face. You felt responsible for his injuries, you knew he only fought to save money; in hopes of being able to leave this shitty small town behind.

You staggered back into the living room pulling off Bucky’s shoes, peeling off his dirty training clothes. The layers you peeled from his beaten form the more bruised and scars were revealed. You couldn’t hold back your sob’s this time, you tried to stop crying but you couldn’t.

“Come on Sugar come relax with me.” He grabbed you and pulled you to the couch between his legs.

Even now when he could barely stand up straight he was worried about you.

“Things are good right now Y/N, we caught up on all the bills, we have a little extra money left over, and hey baby!” He titled your head back so you could see him.

“If ya want we could even go out to Red Lobster or something fancy like Olive Garden.” He managed to make you crack a small smile, Bucky always managed to make your darkest days brighter.

He was right things were going okay for once. You were able to let go of your second job, your savings account wasn’t empty for once and you got a small raise at your first job.

But it didn’t change the fact the he was in pain. Why did life have to be so shitty, it was something you thought about often. Life was fair to people who didn’t deserve it and shitty to the rest.

You nuzzled back into Bucky’s arms, taking in this moment trying to relax.

Bucky breath fanned over your face, he squeezed you tightly absentmindedly rubbing circles into your arms. Bucky was always so calm it was something you always admired about him. Even in the shittest sitautions he was your rock someone you could depend on when the flood of life came crashing in on you.

It was his idea to move into your small but cozy apartment. He needed to get away to have his “own spot” as he put, and he wanted to take you with him. You both didn’t have two pennies to rub together but you took the plunge anyway.

Looking around at your small apartment now and back at the man who was holding you close; you couldn’t help but feel a little glad that not everything in your life was complete shit.

“Baby are you still crying?” You fell silent as your thoughts over took everything else, you completely forgot about your battered and bruised boyfriend. Hoping off the couch you rushed to the bathroom, you knew if he didn’t take pain meds soon enough he wouldn’t find sleep tonight.

“Y/N will ya please come back and relax for more than five minutes. I thought we both agreed that things weren’t total shit right now.” Bucky knew you to your very core. He honestly hated making you worry like this but it was all for a good reason.

It’s what he told himself after a rough match, it’s what he told himself when his nose was knocked crocked the first time, it’s what he told himself when his lip was busted from a dirty punch. It’s what he told himself when he watched you sleep at night.

He didn’t want to start fighting but he figured it was a quick way to make cash so the two of you could leave this shitty town behind.

Before he meant you he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. At first he considered staying here working at the only factory in town making twelve dollars hour, working forty hours a week. Living the same shitty life as everyone else did.

He didn’t think he would be able to make it “out there“. He figured his mom never left, none of his friends considered leaving after high school so why should he. Bucky didn’t dream, survival was the only thing on his mind. He felt like he was drowning barely treading above water daily.

He had grown used to it, it was all he had ever known he didn’t expect to find a bright light in his dark and grime world, he didn’t expect to start believing that he was capable of doing anything other than what was expected of him. He never thought he would have any ambition or drive, but watching you run down the hall with pain meds and a cold pack he knew he had found his silver lining in such a shitty world.

You tried to take your mind off Bucky's battered and beaten form for his sake, but you couldn’t lay there knowing the man you loved was in pain. “Bucky I’ll be back I’m going to stop by the drug store and get some stuff to wrap you up.” you walked out the door, you couldn’t even glance back at him. It never got easier. And it wasn’t a feeling you wanted to get used to.

You made it back from the store after you finished applying neosporin to his open cuts you massaged his back with muscle rub. You sat with Bucky’s head in your lap rubbing your fingers thru his hair. It was the one thing he wasn't willing to compromise when he started fighting, and you were glad it was the one thing that remained the same. It wasn't that bucky wasn't buff before but ever since he started training he had became straight up beefy.

Bucky had closed his eyes relaxing fully in your touch. You stooped stroking his scalp looking down at him with wonder and love behind your gaze.

“Baby.. Your-you’re sort of making me nervous.” Bucky grappsed your hand tight. His palms began to sweat. You didn’t catch the weariness in his voice until you saw his face. He looked nervous but you couldn’t figure out why.

“Everything is fine baby, I was just thinking about you.” you smiled at him. All the sudden weariness he had felt in the moment evaporated into thin air. You could reassure him with a simple smile, Bucky knew he was in deep but he knew he wouldn’t drown, not with you right there beside him.

Not worrying about bills or the future, just being present in the moment. You walked into the living room only to find Bucky struggling to move into a comfortable position on the couch. You knew he was still sore from training.

You leaned against the wall with your arms folded over your chest. Bucky knew what he need but he was too stubborn to actually get up.

“Come on y/n let’s find a true crime doc or something.” he smiled thru gritted teeth. You weren’t having it though.

“Come on move your ass Barnes you need to ice.” you walked over to the couch grabbing his arms pulling his sore body up.

“No baby come on it’s not that bad honestly.” he whined back at you, he could be such a child sometimes. He was even worse when he was sick.

“Alright if your fine than bend over and touch your toes without groaning than.” You stood there staring at him waiting for him to make a move. He could be so stubborn sometimes.

“Like I said you need to ice.” you led him to the bathroom and told him to strip and hoop in the tub. You ran cold water than filled the rest of the tub up with ice. You saw him physically relax and stretch back. He closed his eyes and laid there.

You were sitting on the toilet lid with a book in hand reading as he sat in the icey tub.

Bucky open his eyes and watched you for a while, he wondered how he got so lucky again for the second time this night.

“Staring is rude Barens.” you peeked up from your book to find him smiling like a dork.

“I’m not staring just admiring baby.” his icy hand skimmed across your leg.

“Hey! Keep your cold ass hands to yourself.” you tried to be mad but you couldn’t not with him smiling like that.

“And what if I don’t want to?” He is such a five year old always trying to bend the rules to his will.

“Then you’ll have some cold showers in front of ya baby.” you got up from the lid and swayed out of the bathroom. Bucky thru his head back, he loved drowning in your deep waters. Even if there was a little frostbite.

Part 3

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Want me to tag you when I post tell me here!

(My Taglist is Wide open... Meaning knowone is on it 😂)

A/N: I really hope y'all are enjoying this! I love this mini series so far 😩! I never really know what to put in my A/N 😂. But I would love to hear y'all comments, thoughts etc so far. I love talking with y'all!

#bucky x poc reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #boxer!bucky x reader #au bucky #bucky au #bucky barnes au

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solign0501 · 6 years

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Shall We Begin

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: As a SHIELD agent your work alongside the Avengers means you and Bucky start to get to know each other but then one day you are ordered to go under cover away from him. When the mission goes wrong, the Avengers are called in for a rescue.

Warnings: Reference to torture

A/N: This is my first time doing this so please go easy on me. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what y'all think! I’ll be throwing in another fan favourite character soon to mix things up a bit - so stay tuned!

Time was dragging in your tiny hospital room. It felt like the days just melted into one long string of days filled with check ups and fluorescent lights and nights of dark dreams that always made you wake with a start, covered in sweat and often roused by the sound of your own screaming.

The one joy you had was when the others came to visit you. You had thanked Steve and Natasha profusely for playing their part in rescuing you and they had humbly waved it off and both said how happy they were just to have you back. Steve joked that the coffee had been awful since you had gone and you laughed, even though it hurt. Fitz had quizzed you about the chair until Simmons had hit him and told him not to be so insensitive. You had smiled, though, and said it was okay. Even the Maximoffs had come to see you and both Coulson and Daisy had promised they would when they got back from whatever it was they were doing.

In fact, the only people who hadn’t been to see you were Fury, Hill and Bucky. The first two you got, they were busy. But Bucky... He had left that first day without a word and hadn’t come back yet. You had dragged out of Steve that it was Bucky who found you when he realised where you had been taken. After that you realised that he was probably keeping his distance because of the memories the whole thing brought up for him. It still hurt you, though.

You sighed as you flicked through the latest puzzle book that Christine had brought you, suggesting that you try to use writing in it as an exercise to get the dexterity back in your left hand. Your right was far more badly damaged - Hydra had assumed you were right handed, you had joked dryly. For that, Christine had given you a small rubber ball that you were to squeeze periodically to build the strength back up. They had only broken your little fingers and dislocated the rest, luckily. You totted up the rest of your injuries mentally as you squeeze the ball softly. Two broken ribs, a further one cracked, two broken fingers, six dislocated, dislocated thumbs, two broken toes, several flesh wounds - some deeper than others, a burn to your upper left thigh and more bruised than clear skin right now. Not to mention your ankles. You hadn’t forgotten the concern that briefly shot across Christine’s face as she had examined them. The pain was almost unbearable, but you refused stronger medication just in case it knocked you out again. You needed to stay awake.

You were so busy doing your mental inventory that you didn’t notice the door open or hear the footsteps moving across the room towards you. You jumped as a throat was cleared a few feet away from you.

“Ow!” you cried as the sudden movement caused pretty much everything to hurt. “Jesus, what the hell are playing at...” you began, but trailed off as your eyes met Bucky’s. “Oh, so you do remember the way here then?” you asked dryly. Bucky flinched a little and hung his head.

“Okay, I deserved that,” he said softly. “I just thought you would be a bit busy with everyone else...”

“It’s fine, really,” you said, recovering yourself enough to be glad of his presence. “I figured you might not want to be around me for a while, with the memories it could bring back.”

“That’s no reason to stay away from you, though,” Bucky mumbled,

“No,” you admitted, “but you’re here now, that’s what counts. Have a seat,” you slowly moved your legs over and made space for him to sit down, grimacing in pain. Bucky perched himself on the edge of the bed gently so as not to jostle you any more than necessary. You sat in companionable silence for a moment until you plucked up the courage to speak. Trouble was, so did Bucky.

“Steve said...”

“How are y...” You both laughed as you paused and like that, the awkwardness was gone.

“You first,” you said, using your elbows to push yourself up a little further in the bed.

“I was going to ask how you’re feeling?” Bucky asked, standing up for a second to help you move. You tried not to dwell on the warmth of his skin, or the pleasant mix of cologne and metal that seemed to drift from him.

“I’ve been better,” you said honestly. You had been telling everybody you were fine, getting better every day, but you couldn’t now. Not with Bucky, he had been through this before, after all. True, he had had the serum to help him heal through it, but the scars were no less there. You sighed and decided to tell him everything.

“I see the way Doctor Palmer looks at me when she examines me, like some sort of wounded dog she feels sorry for. She’s got a great bedside manner and her poker face is pretty decent, but she isn’t a S.H.I.E.L.D Agent. I know something is up, I’m not healing like I should.”

You saw Bucky’s eyes dart to the more visible wounds on your body as he swallowed hard.

“What you’ve gone through, what they did...” he shook his head as if trying to fight the anger and nausea that threatened him at the memory of you sitting in that chair, screaming. “It’s a miracle you’re not dead,” he whispered, almost choking on the words.

You reached out, almost without realising you were doing it, and took his hand in your bandaged one. He ran his thumb gently over an exposed patch of skin, sending a strangely thrilling mix of pain and pleasure shooting through your skin.

“I have you to thank for that,” you breathed. “I know it was you who found me, you who carried me back here.” You took a deep breath as you remembered what Steve had told you. “I also know it was you who stayed with me constantly whilst I was out, talking to me, trying to wake me up.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Bucky said, not unkindly as he shook his head.

“I pretty much begged him to tell me,” you confessed. “I could hear you, you see. I didn’t know it was you, but I could hear you. Talking, singing, reading.”

“Oh god,” he chuckled, running his spare hand over his face. “Don’t ever tell anyone I was singing, especially not Nat.”

“I won’t if you won’t,” you promised, chuckling along with him. Your face became serious for a moment, however, as you remembered the dream. You weren’t sure why, but you wanted to tell Bucky about them, so you did. His face was a mask as you did, right until the end when you described waking up and he nodded.

“I had something similar at first. I didn’t have the other voice though, not really. Not until...”

“Not until Steve?” you finished for him and he nodded. “I’m glad you had someone to pull you back. I dread to think what would have happened if you weren’t around.”

“You won’t ever need to,” Bucky promised and as he flashed you that dazzling smile you started to believe you actually could get better after all.

Bucky came to visit you more frequently after that, spending pretty much all day with you talking about many different things and sneaking you in coffee and muffins from the break room, always quick to hide them when Christine stopped by to check up on you.

One day during her visit, though, you noticed her face fall as she looked you over. You and Bucky had been chatting away about Tony and Fitz’s latest “experiment”.

“And Tony flipped the switch and there was this huge bang,” Bucky said, gesticulating wildly in re-enactment of the moment, “and poor Banner went flying back, knocking a hole in the wall.”

“They’ve only just repaired that wall from last time!” you exclaimed, trying not to laugh as Bucky nodded enthusiastically.

“Right! But honestly I never saw a room clear so quickly, just in case the Big Guy decided to pop up.”

“And did he?” Bucky shook his head.

“Smoke cleared and all you saw was Banner with a cool new hairdo.” You both burst out laughing, but you stopped after a moment. Christine, who usually chuckled along with Bucky’s stories, wasn’t joining in this time. Instead, she was looking at you with an intense frown. Bucky must have sensed the sudden shift in mood too as he sat forward on his chair.

“What’s the matter, Christine?” you asked, fighting valiantly to keep your voice level. She looked up, seeming to notice you both for the first time and gave a strained smile.

“Nothing,” she said, moving the blanket back over your left ankle and busying herself with the chart she kept at the foot of your bed.

“Doctor Palmer,” you said more sternly and she flinched. “You’re not that good of a liar.” She sighed and lifted her head, looking from you to Bucky and back again.

“I’m concerned, Y/N,” she said honestly. You could feel your chest tightening and you almost sensed Bucky tense from across the room. Christine must have sensed it too as she moved to the opposite side of the bed, away from him.

Reaching down, she placed a warm hand on your arm and looked you in the eye.

“I’m concerned because you’re not healing, hardly at all. I mean, the wounds are starting to knit but it’s all happening far too slowly. I think the trauma inflicted on your body has effectively left it unable to heal itself.” You heard the words, but they sounded full of static to your ears.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice sounding strange as though coming from someone else.

“I mean, it’s been nearly a month now and there should be some noticeable improvement but there isn’t. To all appearances, these wounds could have been inflicted last week.”

Bucky slumped back in the chair and cursed, running his hands through his hair. Steeling her courage, Christine turned to address him.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she said, her voice wavering slightly as Bucky locked eyes with her. “I know you went through something similar, albeit much worse,” she hastened to add in fear of belittling his own experience. “Did you face anything like this?” Bucky sighed heavily and nodded.

“I did, at first. When they removed what was left of my arm,” he raised his metal arm slightly as if to indicate the obvious. “I was losing a lot of blood, I was in and out of consciousness so much I don’t really remember and I think I blocked out the rest, but I do remember that I wasn’t healing. That was when...” his voice died as he looked at you, his face going pale as he realised what you needed.

“When what?” you asked, wondering what could get that reaction from him.

“That was when they gave me the serum,” he said. His voice was barely a whisper but you and Christine caught every word and turned to look at each other, a mixture of hope and concern showing in your mirrored expressions.

“No!” Bucky said, standing up as he caught your trains of thought. “Totally, absolutely no.”

“Bucky,” Christine said, using his name for the first time, causing him to stop short. “It might be the only way she’ll ever be able to walk again.”

@hillywooddestiel @imaginecrushes @fandomlover03 @rosep16

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roxaeri · 6 years

Text

Lemme tell you a little known fact about the Black Hills: there ain't much shit to do here.

Unless it's outdoorsy stuff like hiking or camping or swimming. Or going to Mt. Rushmore or Crazy Horse. (Here's a secret, lotta people who live here can go forever without going to any tourist attractions like that.) Wind Cave. Any number of caves, come on there's hills. Cosmos Mystery Area. Deadwood--that's like an old Midwest Gambling Town. Sturgis, just a small town except for like a few weeks in August where it has the biggest population in the US. (Bikers. Bikers everwhere. Just skulls, leather, and motorcycles.)

((I say Middle of Nowhere but even I gotta admit we're a fucking varied Middle of Nowhere))

Allergies and/or Sensitive Skin? Good fucking luck, my dudes. The Force be with you.

What does one do when you can't do any of that because you're eleven, sick, and bored??

Convince someone to take you on a drive around the hills

Is it the longest drive?? No. Depends on how fast you go, which turns you take, and how many stops you make if any. Longer than an hour tho

Aloy I-Volunteer-As-Tribute taking the chance to drive Deimos' sweet ass rental car. It's nice and newer than 2016, so a lot newer than her '99 Toyota Corolla (ha)

"I can see it anytime I want, you enjoy yourself."

Atreus in the backseat talking to them until he dozes on and off before he's fuckin Out (One of Kratos' solutions to Boy's insomnia is going for a drive around the hills because it's actually really soothing if somewhat simultaneously ominous so they just find it gREAT)

Fenrir wary of drives through the hills and being in cars but his Boy has not done him wrong yet so just keeps an eye out while Atreus sleeps

Y'all wanted Calliope and Kratos to chat after her drunken ranting???

BOOM

Now they're stuck in the truck together, just the two of them.

(And Jörmungandr who wants to soul-stare out the window but he is a pUPPY and tOo ShOrt so he's tucked himself behind Kratos' head because he likes to feel tall and freak out anyone who notices him)

"Calliope, do you remember all you said to me the other night?"

". . . I was hoping you forgot, actually. That was embarrassing."

"Would you have said anything otherwise?"

"I wouldn't have. That part was true."

"I'm sorry I didn't try harder to be your father after what happened. I truly believed you and your mother were better off without me in your lives after what happened."

"As an adult, I get that. I mean, I don't remember much of why mother divorced you. But we all left Greece a mess. Then your life here happened."

"You felt unimportant when you shouldn't have. Your mother and I failed you in that respect. We let our issues affect you to the point you didn't tell Deimos when you moved to France."

"True."

". . . Do you have a good life there?"

"The best. I never doubt that my friends love me. I love my job, my apartment, my roommate. I don't believe I'd have come if she hadn't convinced me to. My best friend."

Shenanigans? In this calm family drive?? It's more likely than you think. Such as:

Aloy, at the last possible second, swerving right to Deadwood instead of left because goddamn, she forgot about the construction of the road through the lakes

"What are they doing there?"

"Widening it. No longer feels like your car is about to go over the edge anymore."

". . . It was like what before?"

Kratos and Calliope struggling to stop Jörmungandr from jumping at the window because of another dog in the car passing them that looked at him wrong

"Pup pup pup--no!"

Kratos just doesn't know what Calliope's even muttering as she has descended into a mess of English, Greek, and French as she plays with and coos at the dachshund puppy in her lap

Atreus walking up from a dead sleep shouting in Faroese as he shoots up like a zombie from a grave and scaring Aloy so bad that Deimos is left scrambling for the wheel as she tries to keep her heart in her chest

Stopping in Deadwood because maybe it's time for Aloy and Deimos to switch but Calliope spots a thing and

"Old time photos?"

"You dress like they did here during the gold rush and take pictures like that."

"I've never actually done that. You?"

"Once with mom, but I was little."

"No time like the present, huh?"

Kratos looking like a bald and bearded Wild Bill Hickok

Oh my god, the fucking fringed smoked leather jackets and feather boas and corsets that Calliope is all too used to while Aloy kinda hates it until bio sibs simultaneously assure that she looks amazing and Atreus wraps a feather boa around himself, too

Atreus looking like a little old west lawman and set between his sisters while his dad and uncle look like they're ready for gun fight in an old west bar somewhere down the street

Calliope amazed by the history of the town because these people sound like characters in a story but it's all too real

"I think it's like that because that's how they treated it. I mean, Buffalo Bill Cody had this entire show that made it all seem like some sort of adventure tale; when really the gold rush broke the treaties with the tribes. Io:nhiòte has a lot more insight on that than I do."

And the rest of the drive is spent in a spotty conference call between cars talking about the American Old West

That night, Calliope follows Atreus because he has a book from Mimir about the history of the Black Hills that he thinks she should read

Calliope noticing the picture of her on her graduation day in France that Deimos took after she contacted him for the first time in years so she could have someone to celebrate her graduation with

"You have this?"

"Uh, yeah . . . Uncle Deimos sent it to me because he wanted me to see you wearing the flower crown I made. I didn't--know what else to do because I didn't know you and didn't have a lot of time. But he said you liked flowers, and my mom and the nurses taught me how to make them so I did and sent it. I, uh--"

Atreus nearly losing his shit because his sister just hugged him and kissed his head and it's the most affection he's gotten from the sister he nearly idolized since he found out about her

Calliope wanting to cry because my god he is too precious, too pure, and she very nearly fucked this up

And she loves that crown and now she gets why Deimos said it was from a fan of hers. She never would have worn it if she knew it was from Atreus because she was so bitter and angry--

"I used that crown on stage during my first professional performance."

"You did?"

"As Princess Cinderella. I still do whenever I'm asked to perform my solo."

"I didn't know you were Cinderella. I wanna see! I've seen Io:nhiòte dance but she says how you dance is different than how she dances."

"She is a traditional and contemporary dancer while I am trained in ballet and ballroom. I will have my roommate send me the performance video so you can see."

Calliope watching as their new family photo joins Atreus' wall of family, between her grad photo and one of him and Aloy dressed as Mario and Luigi

Just, a drive through the hills that makes everyone just a little bit closer each time

@ladymaliwan

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somevirtualnolife · 6 years

Text

Practical Potions Pt. 1

810 words

Rating: G

Summary: Celia and Ehia take up a few odd jobs to raise enough money to buy passes in order to cross the border. The daughter of a local merchant hires Celia to help her with her love life. Little did Ehia expect that he too would get roped into the witch’s plans.

Author’s Note: I decided to do something a little different and write a drabble of original fiction.

After reading City of Brass and playing quite a bit of Witcher 3, I got inspired and wanted to write something that wasn’t fan fiction per say. I guess more of an homage to stuff I’ve been into lately, while still being very tropey lol.

I won’t be like, posting all the chapters and making this epic novel or anything, but I wanted to post a couple of snippets, or short stories. Depending on what y'all think (and how I’m feeling), I might post some more.

Basically, if you’ve liked my Dragon Age stuff, you may like this as well lol. Particularly, if you enjoy my banter writing. (I know I said I wasn’t gonna start anything before finishing my other stuff but OH WELL).

Happy Reading!

“Fairly certain that love potions are banned,” Ehia crossed his arms as he observed the witch carefully.

“Everything is banned under this stupid law,” Celia responded. “Besides, this is not a love potion. Even I know better than to dabble in that disastrous nonsense,”

“What is it then?”

“A Potion of Attraction,”

Ehia attempted to stifle his scoff, but it was still loud enough for Celia to shoot an annoyed glare at him, though that wasn’t uncommon coming from her. He was certain the young woman spent most of their journey shooting daggers at the back of his head.

Get on her good side. For a bit longer.

“Apologies,” he cleared his throat. “What’s the difference?”

“Love potions alter the mind of the person chosen,” she answered, tossing the freshly ground herbs into a small black cauldron above the burner. “It has a lot to do with obsession or lust rather than actual love. That’s why you hear so many horror stories about them,” A romantic poem quickly becomes a stalker’s manifesto. A chance at eloping turns into a kidnapping case. What starts as a night of passion winds of a morning of chaffed nether regions from a little too much ‘loving’. There was good reason for banning it, though that didn’t stop some from trying to get their hands on a bottle.

“A Potion of Attraction however, is far less dangerous, and quite practical if you believe that there’s a spark to be had between you and your potential paramour,” she raised her hand above the cauldron, making circular motions. Purple steam started to rise and twirl around her fingertips, like a snake coiling around a branch.

Ehia had to admit, it was somewhat fascinating watching her brew potions. Celia worked quite differently than any trained enchanter he knew. Enchanters under from the city often had the most up-to-date and precise instruments, with carefully organized ingredients. It was very clinical, specific (and a little pompous, depending on the enchanter if he was being honest).

Yet, the only thing that Celia seemed to need was a flat area with some moderate fire. Her grimoire filled with yellowed pages and faded ink while her ingredients were kept in frayed pouches and clouded glass bottles. She worked much more like an old blacksmith or cook.

But it was the way that her honey-coloured eyes lit up, her careful focus and research; that’s the one similarity that would never go away between a witch and enchanter, no matter what people say.

“Why is that?” he asked, his own eyes continuing to follow the motion of her hand.

“It’s a lot to do with just increasing your luck; your own visibility,” Celia continued. “Tell me, what do you remember about Ariel?”

“The girl you’re making this for?”

If he was being honest, very little. There were quite a few of those women fawning over Celia excitedly when they first arrived. All excited to have their palms read and their fortune told. He furrowed his brows slightly, trying to recall any of her features. Small. Perhaps a brunette?

“Uh…”

“That’s what I thought. Here,” Celia walked up to Ehia, holding up the small vial. Inside was a purple liquid, speckled with sparkling gold and blue flakes.

“It’s not going to hurt you. Just take a whiff of it,”

Ehia tilted his head, looking at her and the vial suspiciously. He still wasn’t quite sure how much he trusted the witch just yet. She still wasn’t enthused about going to the kingdom. There was still had a chance that she could convince Ellery to change their mind about the whole agreement and go back into hiding. Not to mention, it wouldn’t be the first time that she’d manage to mask deadly magic. He still recalled that first encounter. She could keep playing seer in front of everyone else here, but he knew what she was capable of.

“If I was going to trick you into smelling something lethal, I would’ve done so by now,” she insisted.

Ehia took the vial from her hand and brought it up to his nose. The smell of nutmeg mixed with hill-dew flowers, fresh charcoal along a few other alluring scents. He didn’t know much about perfume, but it was the closest thing that he could compare it to. He quite liked it.

“Unique,” he finally said.

“You’re not much for words, are you?” she crossed her arms. “It’s not exactly easy to make it so that you can make each scent equally pronounced while also not being over-powering,”

“It’s very lovely and I’m glad that it hasn’t killed met yet,” he said bluntly. “There. Several words. Now, what is it that you’re going to do with this?”

“Oh, it’s not what I’m going to do. It’s what you’re going to do,” A confident smile appeared on Celia’s face, as she placed her hands on her hips.

“By noontime tomorrow, you, Ehia of the Sea, you’re going to make a young woman’s dreams come true,”

#writing #fantasy writing #fiction #original characters #original fiction

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ts-akhmim · 4 years

Text

Episode 14 (Finale) | “All of this and more, but only in Autumn's World” - Autumn

So I figured out that Amir does have the idol and Jakey originally had it that round... damn I wish I looked a little more but I just didn't think Jakey had it. So that probably means that Autumn is going this round, and then I just need to find a way to win this next challenge over Amir. I know Kendall and I will vote together next round regardless, so worst case scenario next round for me is that I am in some kind of fire-making challenge, but I at least see there being a good chance that me and Kendall could be sitting in FTC together, and I'm just hoping at this point that it's Augusto sitting there with us. P.S. In the event that I make FTC... I really hope I'm not seen as a goat. Like, I don't think I am, but I'm not sure how much respect I'll get for my game. I'm hoping people see how savvy I had to be to continuously work my way back up after a couple blindsides and being pushed to the bottom, but you never know with this jury / cast. P.P.S. Please no pressure cooker next round. I'm not ready to have to beat Amir THAT way.

So I'll count that as half of a success. I was at least able to help convince Amir to play the idol he told me about to flush that, and with Autumn safe, the next option was to do Adam. Knowing that if Autumn did have the merge idol, she probably wasn't playing it on Adam, this was the next best option. I need Kendall and Augusto around because those are the two I'd like to bring to FTC if I can make it there. It makes sense to take them to the end as our games are all very similar, so at least we aren't against a winner at the end. Part of me thinks that bringing Amir may not be the worst thing in the world given he has screwed over a decent bit of that jury, but also, I'd rather not take that risk.

So now that that's done and I'm cute and immune, I can confirm it all. Yes I do have the merge idol, yes I've had it since Final 7 but planned not to play it until Final 5, and yes that makes me the most powerful person here. Deadass everyone wants my head on a stick and I don't give a single fuck. I'm chilling all weekend, letting them think they're doing something if/when I lose win immunity, and then I'm sending a man out on one vote Monday night. You think they hate me now? Wait til they find out they can't take a shot at me until Final 4 lmaaaaoo. Be blessed!

youtube

So Amir blames me for playing his idol... I think that's a win for me then, right?

I'm so glad I was able to take this challenge win! I needed to win this to guarantee I wasn't some kind of contingency plan. But now, it's about how can I guarantee a winner goes home. I've already kind of told Autumn she was in trouble (literally 0 point in lying to her about it) and have explained to both Kendall and Augusto that we should find a way to split the votes / guarantee that Autumn and Amir have no shot of working with one another and sending home one of the two people I want with me at FTC. I feel so close, yet so far away from the title of Sole Tumblr Survivor. I want this win so badly. I can't describe how much I want this win. I didn't come back just to have fun; I didn't come back just for maybe an ounce of redemption from Guyana, I came to win this mother-effer. I have at least a 25% shot at the moment, but I want to increase that number.

Final 5... it's so insane honestly because I never expected this of myself but I've played my ASS off (literally, that's why I'm flatter than a table top) especially these past few rounds. I'm kinda shocked that the clear targets are Autumn/Amir/TJ just given I have been a force in the game (subtly ofc) so its def a gag... but yeah. TJ winning the immunity was WORST case scenario because I wanted to come for that man's neck SO bad but we'll just have to get him next time. Amir having the merge idol isn't a SHOCK but it was interesting to say the least like rip telling me that but both his idol plays are gonna be kinda useless which helps my case! I know that Autumn said me and Kendall have been up Amir's ass but first of all... i'm a bottom so I would never BUT also I feel I've held my own this entire game so it isn't my truth in the slightest but I'll just have to prove her, TJ, and the jurors wrong if I got to. I've gone from flop (16th in Bhutan, 17th in Great Lakes, 12th in Socotra) to the top (6th in Flops, 2nd in Seychelles) but I am trying to WIN and wear my deserved crown, it's time I won something yknow.

Amir and I when my plan worked and NEITHER of us walked into jury yet again https://twitter.com/abridrakegraham/status/1222552252357005313 The kids HURTIN yall and I will 100% respect their privacy at this time. Like they really thought!!! They really thought they finally killed me and were probably singing ding dong the witch is dead all day and now look at em. They done lost the boy they all wanted to go to the end with, got severely played by me, AND still gotta see my face everyday. Someone check on Jordan Pines I wanna make sure he's not still holding his breath waiting for my demise. And I've teamed up with his other least favorite person? HOES MAD. But it's not just him- Kendall ready to fight Amir in PM's, TJ in his feelings on call during tribal, Augusto couldn't even find the words he was that shocked. It's all so glorious and I truly fucking love wrecking everyone's games. Amir was like I've never felt these emotions before/ this is one of the wildest moves I've ever been apart of and tbh I agree with Amir. This was batshit crazy but you know what the gag is? This is literally just another day in the mind of Autumn Hill Jury mad, the mayos mad, Augusto mad, and I'm literally on top on the world right now. Like I love Augusto yes but that move was the definition of powerful. Like it's not just playing an idol correctly. It's the fact that Amir came to me begging that I forgive him and that we work together again, I then agreed and admitted to having the idol to A WHOLE ASS WINNER, convinced Amir to tell the kids he had the idol, got everyone to feel super comfortable around me all night and day cause I knew "I was going," snapped in the tribe chat at 2:00 because I "just wanted people to be honest about voting me," got the kids to essentially then tell on themselves since they listed all the reasons why they were voting me, and then idoled out their king using his once closest ally. Liiiikkkee?? STIFF WHERE?? DEAD WHERE??? Bitch I'm playing to win ok I hope yall enjoying this master class I've put on cause I'm hanging it up after this. Unless yall get serious about having a TS version of Winners at War, then call me. But otherwise, yes I'm going ham because I have every intention of walking into the 2 time winners chat. I WANT TO ASCEND!!! So PSA: if my funeral is public knowledge, that means I ain't dying hahaha. Apparently everyone has nicknames for me and that might actually be my favorite part. Jakey calling the game Autumn's World all merge to the boys and TJ only referring to me as the Godmother?? iconic! You know I'd hate me too if I wasn't me, which is why I'm flattered by it all. They know damn well they're almost out of time to get rid of me and they've spent the entire fucking game hoping and wishing and praying and still can't pull it off. And them not targeting me out the gate like Jordan wanted has gotten soooo many people killed. But most importantly I have successfully played an idol now TWICE at Final 5.. And I sure did win back to back immunities at Final 4 and Final 3 in Crossroads so finding out this season has a final 2? Perfect let me dust off the blueprint real quick

https://twitter.com/rcgersnatalia/status/1168071613763342336

okay im going to work my ass of to win this but autumn and tj have both claimed they can do this really well, so like basically, tj cannot win immunity, i need to win or i may be absolutely screwed https://66.media.tumblr.com/583667e85060a36a2cccb8551baa27d5/tumblr_inline_oh5slaYgdO1tr4u58_500.jpg but as of rn, i was going no matter what if i didnt win immunity, i tried to make a story to autumn and we called for like 3 hours and i did my damnest to sell that tj is the problem with everything that happened last round and that i was down to vote augusto for real until tj really sold the plan out to augusto and i didnt want to go to rocks, but i played the idol out of fear that augusto-kendall-tj would 3-2-1 me so she believed there is a true rift in the beauties right now and has more of a reason to hate tj she is so fucking smart so she may have sussed it out and went along with it, but im hoping it worked??? idek but she said if she wins immunity she'll idol me she did admit she has the idol to me but maybe because she knew i already knew

I just... do I even have words anymore? Like, time and time again, I'm getting screwed over and I just... it's a good underdog story now. I just have to win this next challenge. I guess regardless I had to win this next challenge, but also, I was really hoping to not have to have as much concern as I do right now.

What was that?? oh cause I thought the yts who can't successfully kill me had said something https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Wux4HnZRY0 Another day, another body bag. THEY WERE SO SURE THEY HAD ME AHHHH I really have to laugh. Kendall was certain this was my funeral and I'm like nah baby it's yours. I'm still screaming that TJ would keep immunity for himself and let Kendall go to firemaking where she would 100% lose that's wild. Only for me to find out after that sis really was THE RAT??? Y'all set her up lmaaaooo. Now I really don't feel bad cause she ran from her karma long enough and if Amir had told me that shit before firemaking I really would've smoked her in the comp. Kendall had no business snitching to Jordan about an airtight unanimous vote and blowing up all her allies' games just to do right by an egom aniac. Then Jordan still died and she falls in love with his bestie boo TJ (he's playing you sis!!) who sensed she could die this round but didn't give a single fuck?? Absolute mess. She really got Devon, TJ, Amir, and Augusto to lie about it the whole game and they agreed because they knew if I ever find out the truth, I'd kill her on sight. Bitch I killed her anyway!!! So was it even worth it? Cause she still walked into jury but she got a better placement and a noble death, which miss Devon and Augusto cannot say. Too busy being lying https://media3.giphy.com/media/6DMfLQEhixGdW/source.gif I feel so affirmed though- every person who has come for me is either sitting in jury or is about to walk in. That's power- that's RANGE! Also I just wanna say to Devon while I'm here: you really gave me all that grief for considering you could be the rat when you, Amir, and Augusto were in on it and protecting Kendall the whole time??? Fuck outta here. Like whose fault is it really that you died Devon? I wanna know. You mad at me and Amir when you need to be mad at yourself for picking the wrong girl, which is on brand for straight white men but y'all not ready to have that conversation. Anyway! Kendall trying to undermine me the ENTIRE merge and using all these men to do it only to still get killed by me in the end?? Fucking love that shit. All of this and more, but only in Autumn's World

https://66.media.tumblr.com/143402720bb2766ebe14eb1d657e2ca6/tumblr_inline_o8662rxDt11tr4u58_250.gifv

Me before the challenge https://peopletalk.ru/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/tumblr_n49eidw5Zk1rsrbdko1_500.gif

Me after I went beast mode and embarrassed the men https://twitter.com/intoragnarok/status/1233477557565173762

I'm screaming at Amir asking me after if kept him strategically or out of loyalty and I'm like sis what do you think. I was not about to let the white knights get their way and give TJ the win all because he's a good car salesman. Like y'all should've seen that 1 hr plus discussion of TJ and Amir going back and forth on camera about who I have a better chance of beating and I'm just sitting there IMMUNE taking notes, knowing neither of them wanted this. The power that that has, the intelligence that that has, the clearance that that has, the access that that has. Amir and TJ planning to kill me and then being thwarted once again is arguably my two favorite storylines. TJ wanted to do this the ENTIRE MERGE and I never let him succeed. And Amir wanted to be the one to say he killed me cause he's Mr. Smith when I'm Mrs. Smith and my ass spared him and helped him several times. Now look at em, getting third and second. I made a joke at Final 5 that Amir and I are the movie Mr. and Mrs. Smith and it's so true. I adore him as a person and I know he loves me too but we're not above killing each other. Hell we genuinely want to kill each other but time and time again we chose to kill everyone else instead lmao.

So please enjoy this visual walkthrough of our wild ass partnership

(when we met at merge) https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3f/48/5e/3f485e53a56fb43c62c22c0790e8afd7.gif

(when we voted together at Final 11 and Final 10) https://media1.giphy.com/media/l3Ucho9gtq4b7SLok/source.gif

(when I caught Amir in a lie and killed Devon as retaliation but still wanted to work with Amir) https://media0.giphy.com/media/l3UcotueAJQAW0zjW/source.gif

(when Amir killed Ali and Adam to piss me off) https://66.media.tumblr.com/eebc1dc0a509a652ea543aba82bcb1c5/tumblr_ojjk22iVXM1uhcmrao1_250.gifv

(when Amir tried to get back in my good graces at Final 5) https://66.media.tumblr.com/3b157a36601820370897ace6673af493/tumblr_n17egq7Hdq1r7fawxo4_r3_250.gifv

(when I agreed to the winners pact and got him to kill Augusto and Kendall with me) https://thumbs.gfycat.com/DefiniteVapidDogwoodtwigborer-size_restricted.gif

(when he kept trying me at Final 4 and Final 3/ saying he'd kill me) https://i.gifer.com/3lie.gif

(when I snapped and took Amir to Final 2, like I said I would, and we both knew he'd lose beside me) https://66.media.tumblr.com/d1f3506fc873a7d2393d705a7f58065d/tumblr_mgooqovRHw1qkdoj2o1_500.gif

mood after everything that's happened and me making FTC again- we out here. Coming out of retirement has been good to me https://twitter.com/emrific/status/1235072497055227907

(final 4) oh dear me this one is a tuffyyyy wuffyyy.... okay okay. so its f4, tj thinks im voting with him and kendall to vote autumn. Autumn thinks im voting with her against kendall to make it firemaking. basically, i was originally gonna vote autumn, and i told autumn and she was like fk no so i told her im convinced but i am STILL UNSURE So if I vote kendall: autumn has to win fire making which like statistically i do not see kendall beating autumn, but then tj takes me to final 2 over autumn, and autumn will take me to final 2 over tj, she also threatened to make jury hate me if I cut her now which doesn’t really scare me tbh if I’m next to kendall anyway, but regardless of that threat, me going with tj and autumn gives me a 66% chance of winning this game. If me or Tj win final immunity, I think I win this game. If Autumn wins, then uhhhhggg she will probs take me but like we will thee i just hope she doesnt win final immunity If I vote autumn: me or kendall have to win final immunity, because if tj wins, then I’m getting third place, and kendall would probably take tj as well, so like, yeah i would beat them both at the end but i would be putting myself in a position where i have to win immunity but idk . i think voting kendall is better as i type dis

final 3 oh my gooooodddd, the fact that i am here is so surreal 2 me, and idk idk this immunity is gonna be the deciding factor of my game and im so nervous but also happy and proud of myself however this game turns out. hoyoyoyooyoy

SO MISSS AUTUMN JUST UHHHHHHHH wooped me arse in immunity and me and Tj had to PLEAD for ourlives but she ended up TAKING MEEEEEEEEE so partyyy Honslee tho, while this is gonna make winning 90x times harder, I am pretty happy to be sitting next to Autumn cuz our end game mr. and mrs. smith alliance is highkey iconic af ewnfewkjfnewkjnf like we killed each others allies and somehow have been aligned since early merge and I lied to her and somehow we always came back and protected each other and if i don't win im happy she will <3 but with that said, i gotta take her DOOOWNNN

AUTUMN WINS 8-1

#BackWithVengeance

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fireandgloryrpg · 7 years

Photo

Congratulations Kcat and welcome! We’re so happy to accept your application to play Adriana Caninii with the faceclaim of Phoebe Tonkin in Fire & Glory RPG! We can’t wait to begin roleplaying with you so please remember to look over our checklist!

OOC INFO:

Name: Kcat Age: 21 – April 04 Timezone: EST

Activity: I am both a senior year undergraduate student and an officer for my university’s ambassadors, so as I’m sure you’ll understand, I’m very busy. However, roleplay is my go-to stress reliever. I can typically manage to get on two to four nights a week and drill through replies. If things get extra crazy in real life, I’ll be sure to let you lovely admins know and request a hiatus if need be. Anything Else?: I HAVE MISSED ALL YOU LOVELY FUCKERS WHAT’S UP GUYS!!! MAN IT FEELS GOOD TO BE BACK ;D

OC APPLICATION:

Name: Adriana Caninii Age and Birthday: 24 years, 31 March 1993 Faceclaim: Phoebe Tonkin, Tay Jardine Heritage: Daughter of Mars, Legacy of Invidia Affiliation: Centurion of the Fourth Cohort, Cult of Romulus

Abilities: (omg pls erase my ramblings if/when you post because I just wanted to be super clear with each of these so that nothing came of as godmoddy because I would NEVER make that the intention :3 just throw your questions and stuff at me. y'all know i’m a real chill pill)

From Mars

telumkinesis: natural mastery of all weapons; ability to curse the weapons of opponents

odikinesis: can enhance or induce rage, hate, fear, and intimidation; can dispel “battle jitters” from others

From Invidia

Invidia is said to be the Roman name for Nemesis. In the PJO canon, Nemesis claims that she is known by the same name by both the Greeks and the Romans because revenge and justice is universal – which isn’t wrong. However, in much of Roman mythology, while Invidia is still associated with Nemesis, she is also seen as an independent goddess, one who differs than the Greek version of Nemesis in that she is primarily the goddess of envy and vengeance, along with the standard Nemesis’ qualities of revenge and justice. Invidia itself was a power that the Romans feared. Literally their term for envy, after winning a great battle, Roman soldiers would use talismans to protect themselves from Invidia, and for good reason. Envy was a sickness that could lead soldiers to craving more battles, more victories, and in their desirable wake, cause great harm in their pursuit of excessive glory. It could also turn the best of men into animals, friends turned enemies in conflict over a lover, a treasure, recognition. Invidia is also a goddess associated with the evil eye – like Nemesis’ ability to speak of one’s fate, only Invidia typically embodies the darker side of fate, bringing about her justice through curses, indirect manipulation, and supposedly even a little bit of “black magic.” (but far less on the magic bit, obviously)

Adriana’s mother is a daughter of Invidia, and as such, some of her powers have transferred down to Adriana, albeit at a lesser strength, variety, and level than in the case of her parent.

fascinare: ability to bewitch a person into an envious state with the express purpose of inducing conflict between that individual and others (this ability would take a bit of a toll on Adriana. Historically, it’s an actual power that the Romans feared, like invidia. It’s the sort of curse that plants a little seed of envy in someone’s heart. The caster, again, has no say over what results from this. They’re just drawing out what envious emotions a person might have deep down in the hopes that coaxing those emotions out will allow them to fester into a full-blown conflict by the affected’s hands. It’s not a quick process, but a slow one, and the results vary widely depending on the person. If they’re truly good at heart and generous, for example, this ability really wouldn’t affect them. It’s just stirring up what’s already there and what happens depends entirely on the individual and their pre-existing personal issues)

poison tongue: venom can cast fascinare or cause mild nausea and dizziness (rarely unconsciousness) via a kiss (okay literally this amused me so much and I was dying to test it out as an ability. In a lot of lore, Invidia is said to have a tongue that’s actually poisonous – likely due to the fact that her symbolic animal is a snake – but obviously, that’s a little extreme for demigods and especially for legacies so I’ve watered it down to this – for one, Adriana would obviously have to engage in mouth to mouth contact to make this work (how awkward and uncomfortable for her lmao), and thus she realllly isn’t too fond of it. She’d have to use this in order cast any sort of fascinare power, but additionally, it could be used to disorient someone – as if a sudden unexpected kiss from a daughter of Mars isn’t disorienting enough – it’s not likely to cause someone to pass out unless Adri has to commit for some reason because it’s absolutely necessary. We’re basically talking a delirious effect, not so different from the dizziness and disorientation of being significantly drunk, and it doesn’t last very long. Maybe five minutes, ten if she’s lucky. If she can get along without having to use this ability, she will. It’s more of a dire need for escape sort of trick)

The Influence of Luna

Both Adriana and her cousin, Fergus Fitzgerald, share the same traces of blood from the goddess Luna via their great-grandfather, Aulus Caninii, a son of Luna. Of the two of them, it’s Fergus that is most affected if only due to his heritage as a son of Oceanus, as the sea and moon have always been closely aligned in the ebb and flow of the tides. For Adriana, this heritage brings little more than a slight influence of mood and preference for time of day. She is, by nature, more of a night person than a day person. Early mornings are especially miserable, but years in the Legion and the formation of a daily 5AM running habit have helped her to combat this fact. She feels her best and strongest at the apex of the full moon and her crummiest and most fatigued at the apex of the new moon. Unless someone was meticulously attentive to Adriana’s day-to-day patterns or had been told of this heritage by Adriana herself, it is highly unlikely they would recognize this behavior as anything of note. As such, Adriana does not claim outright to be a legacy of Luna because her effect on the daughter of Mars’ blood is so minimal.

Headcanons:

Ancient lineage and political powers aside, the Caninii are well-known for their talent of dog training. In the age of the Roman Empire, dogs were common companions beside men in battle. Adriana’s family has continued this tradition with pride. The Legion’s ‘war dogs’ are held at a training kennel near the stables in Camp Jupiter. Renzo, Adriana’s half-brother, is currently responsible for their training and upkeep, but Adriana often steps in to assist. She has only fully trained one dog thus far, and that is Septimus, her German Shepherd and inseparable partner.

Adriana’s most prized possession is her longsword, an heirloom that has been in her family for generations. At its original forging, the sword was named Servatrix, but Adriana has developed her own conventions and opinions that oppose a number of the Caninii’s long-held beliefs, and has subsequently changed its name to Grayclaw. The blade is forged of an imperial gold and silver alloy. The fusion of metals takes away from their overall effects, but provides the advantage of having both lethal elements on hand.

Biography:

Born to Livia of the family Caninii, Adriana has wealth, respect, and an ancient bloodline that has inevitably determined her future. She was raised in New Rome by her grandfather, who filled her head with tales of the great achievements of her forefathers as soon as she was old enough to understand them. He is a charismatic and brilliant man, but this family patriarch holds his kin to strict expectations.

Gaius made it clear to Adriana that she would be responsible for upholding their family’s glory and reputation. From an early age, the young Roman knew who she was and what she could do. She trained for hours each day in combat, weaponry, war strategy, Roman history – whatever was necessary to educate her as a proper soldier. But while these lessons came naturally to her, Adriana was wary of how her grandfather was crafting her to his ideals. Gaius is a Roman Senator, not a family man. He has political desires and an indomitable ambition. While he holds his advantages close, he is not inclined to treasure them. Adriana, like her family namesake, is a dog. Albeit a well-bred one. Gaius showed her off and trained her to be obedient, to come when called and to strike at his order. But Adriana was, and remains, resilient. Years of observing her grandfather’s tactics led her to develop some skills on her own. His little warrior learned how to play false appearances. Whenever Gaius was confident that his guidance was building toward his desired end, Adriana fed his belief, keeping her conflicting feelings and opinions to herself.

By the time she arrived at Camp Jupiter, Adriana was a hardened fighter. With high commendations from Gaius and several other elite members of New Rome’s society, she was assigned to the First Cohort. The rigorous training of the First not only developed the skills that she already possessed, but also nourished her true personality – something her grandfather had sought to suppress in order to maintain his control. Adriana is loyal yet independent, studious yet audacious, valiant, and though ruthless, fair. She’s not the type of person to judge at first glance and believes strongly in second chances.

But, when the Argo II attacked New Rome, the resulting damage shook the daughter of Mars into believing that her grandfather had been right all along – you can’t trust a graecus. The Battle at Half-Blood Hill had robbed Adriana of friends and allies, leaving her with a deepening malice toward their East Coast counterparts. She viewed the unification as a betrayal to those that she had lost and refused to stand for it.

Adriana’s change in attitude did not go unnoticed. Gaius picked up on the shift in his granddaughter and sought to seize the opportunity it presented. One night, he drew her away from camp and introduced her to the secret society lurking beneath the streets of New Rome. When she emerged early the next morning, Adriana was not only the dedicated soldier she had always been, but also the Cult of Romulus’ newest inductee.

Shortly after her induction, Adriana was appointed Centurion of the Fourth Cohort. The office suited her well. It gave her a chance to improve the skills of some of the Legion’s less popular legionnaires and, with the cohort’s sizable inclusion of Greeks, to keep an eye on the activities of the foreigners. However, as months of leadership turned to years, Adriana came to realize that despite the few upsets between the camps, the transfers from Camp Half-Blood weren’t actually all that different from the demigods of the Legion. They showed no signs of plotting against New Rome and Adriana had even begun to grow fond of them – Imagine that! A member of the Cult getting friendly with the enemy? She was lucky that her Cult companions passed it off as keeping their enemies close. Even so, the Cult tightened their grip on the daughter of Mars. She could hardly take a breath without them taking note. That leash has loosened since then, but Adriana is still walking a perilously thin line.

Adriana was seduced into the Cult of Romulus by their power and promises of reformation at a time when it seemed impossible to hold anything but malice toward the Greeks – a malice that she no longer possesses, a power that she doesn’t need, and a reformation that isn’t necessary. The true battle is not against one another but against the monsters and deific powers that threaten their livelihood. How could the city’s darker powers not see that the Roman demigods and their Greek counterparts are a far more formidable force together than divided? To the war strategist ingrained in in Adriana’s bones, this is common sense.

Adriana’s knowledge of the Cult’s existence coupled with her opposing opinions is a loaded gun. If she could drop out of the Cult she would do so in a heartbeat, but you can’t just leave a cult. Especially not one so prominent and powerful as the Cult of Romulus. They have ways of keeping their wayward members in line, as she already knows, and speaking against them publicly – or worse, revealing them – would be suicide. Adriana is doing her best to remain a neutral party in quiet defiance, but not all the Cult’s demands are so easy to ignore…

Yet while she keeps to the shadows in her disagreement with the Cult, the daughter of Mars has not been as subtle in regards to her kin. The Caninii clan’s esoteric convictions and unjust manipulation for personal gain have built them an empire within New Rome, but the power they wield is abusive and Adriana won’t have it. Wielding her status as the single direct descendant in her family line and the next head as she would a weapon, Adriana is determined to reshape the conventions of her house. If put toward good rather than gain, the wealth and influence of her family could be an avenue for positive change, but Adriana is a warrior, not a politician; and without allies and support, she can’t expect to enforce any alterations to her kin’s ancient dynasty anytime soon.

For now, Adriana is treading lightly. Balance isn’t easily maintained – anyone with Invidia or Nemesis’ blood in their veins knows that all too well. However, with the right pressures, sharpest moves, and great patience, fate can sometimes be swayed in one’s favor. Adriana does her best to be an honorable leader and a fierce soldier, appearing ever the pure, loyal Roman until she has her chance to tear away from the destiny that has been fashioned for her all her life. And when she finally gets it, she’ll do what she does best. Fight.

Para Sample (idek what this is lmao I tried):

Adriana’s senses went to the wayside as she stood in the midst of the crowd. The heavy beat of the music that projected from the stage pulsed across the field, stoking the spectators’ energy in the late night hour. At the high volume of the rock band’s set and the surrounding exclamations of enjoyment, hearing anything else beyond the event was nigh impossible. Adriana had gotten swept up in the tide of it all. With a beer in her hand and a friend at her side, she couldn’t imagine a better evening; and she didn’t want to, because as soon as she wished it, her fun was likely to end. The Fates were relentless pranksters in that way.

The concert had been Dani’s idea. The Second Cohort legionnaire had snatched the centurion to the side between training sessions and to lay out their plan for a brief escape. Adriana, always willing to step outside the boundaries of her lifelong home, had eagerly accepted. She could always rely on the legacy of Hades to come up with the most entertaining – and sneakiest – schemes. It didn’t even matter to Adriana that she wasn’t familiar with the band. Between the political stuffiness of New Rome and the responsibilities of Legion leadership, the supposed demigod sanctuary could become a suffocating environment. Adriana would take any opportunity to step aside, let loose, be herself, and just breathe.

So there she was, jumping up and down among a mob of strangers and releasing her pent up stress through a non-violent outlet. As the music tapered down for the band’s transition into the next song, the daughter of Mars took a moment to rest, chuckling through panting breaths at the dark-haired person beside her. “You’re right,” she grinned. “They’re not bad.”

“Not bad?” The legacy of Hades scoffed in mock hurt. “For all the trouble it took to bring you out here, you would claim that these beautiful, Muse-embodied humans are not bad?” Dani clicked their tongue disapprovingly. “Remind me never to invite you to join me on my ventures again.”

Adriana shook her head at the short legionnaire. Despite being the sage, Dani was a good six inches smaller than her, at the least. Not that their height made them any less ferocious. Dani was a wild soul and Adriana admired her temperament greatly. “Hey, don’t look at me,” she shrugged with an indifferent look down at the other. “You’re the one who took me out to see a band I’ve never heard of in my life. It’s not my fault I don’t have a reference to judge their music.”

Dani groaned through an exasperated sigh. “Fiiiiine. You’re excused.” Around them, the fresh beat of a new song began to shake the ground. “You’re lucky I like you, Romaíos.”

Adriana had taken that line as the close to their conversation, ready to sink back into the sounds and the madness, but just as she was teetering on the height of that edge, a pulse beneath her feet caught her off guard. No one else appeared to have felt it even though it was off beat to the rest of the tune, and there was a telltale prickling sensation that ran down the centurion’s spine. She stopped moving, eyes attentive, feeling focused, and again felt the thump resonate across the ground. In an instant, entertainment had turned to vigilance.

“Dani, stop.” Adriana reached out and placed a firm hand on the Greek’s shoulder.

Dani hesitated a brief moment before they complied. They pouted up at the Roman and opened their mouth to object, but then they felt it too, right down to their bones. The lightheartedness faded from their expression and a hand ventured toward the holster strapped to their thigh in preparation. “Where is it? Do you see anything?” they asked as their honey-colored eyes swept around them – which achieved nothing considering their height.

Adriana fiddled with the ring brace that lived on her right middle finger, sharp eyes piercing through and over the people around them. “I don’t know… it’s pretty hard to see around– wait.” Out of the corner of her eye, Adriana caught a flash of movement. Nothing concrete, but when spotting shadows, it was usually best to assume it was something rather than leave it be and get stabbed in the back for it. “Come on,” she stepped in front of Dani, starting to lead them out of the crowd.

Not seconds prior to the two of them stepping onto open ground, a guttural screech cut through the air. Both demigods snapped their heads to the left and were greeted by the misfortunate sight of a scorpion with a van-sized body. “Every fucking time…” Adriana growled under her breath and swept her thumb over the side of her ring, cueing the accessory to spin around her finger and break off. It extended into a hilt and a blade which she twirled in her hand with practiced ease. In a similar fashion, Dani equipped themself with a pair of curved knives. Adriana looked over to them and the pair shared a silent transfer of information. They knew each other well enough by now to coordinate their attacks without the distraction of words.

I take front, you take back?

Yeah, let’s go.

At Dani’s finalizing nod, Adriana turned to the monster and grabbed its attention with a high-pitched whistle. “Hey ugly!” The beast hissed, shuffling around on its spindly legs to lock eyes with the young warrior. “This what you’re looking for?” She stepped forward once with arms spread to taunt it, and sure enough, it lurched forward with another screech.

Adriana reinforced her stance, standing her ground until the scorpion only had a few seconds of distance left to close. At her side, the legacy of Hades slipped into the nearest shadow and a grin split across the centurion’s lips.

Time to go to work.

#accepted #Adriana Caninii

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wish4youff · 7 years

Text

05 ~ Nonetheless,

Chrissie

“I finally got you the paperwork for Raphael Lewis and Valentine Williams. Surprisingly both of them have been coming every day and most importantly staying the entire day,” The words came with the offer of two different manila folders. “You need anything else?” Looking from Chelsea Hopkins to the folders again, I shook my head in a denying response. Right now, I had five kids in my possession; surprisingly only two of them were giving me such a headache that I needed to reach out on school officials. Chelsea was the sectary at Columbia Secondary School. While she didn’t work with Valentine at Richmond Hill, but she had good enough connections to help a needy case worker. Since I could never get through. “No, I believe this is enough. I’m working on trying different tactics for them. I need something to keep them interested, you know?” “Yeah. I hate to say it, but maybe a different school will help. They’re both talented, I love that Ralph can paint and Valentine has an amazing skill and love for piano playing.” I knew Chelsea was right, but neither of them say it’s the school. ‘Just distractions around school, distractions that every school has…’ “Thanks, Chels. I’m going to look over this and I’ll call you if I need anything else.” “Alright, take care of yourself, Chrissie. Get you some vacation time, girly.”

Nothing escaped me but a laugh of audacity, the thought of leaving these kids for a week or even weeks at a time is absurd. Even Chelsea, someone I know on a rare occasion could see the exhaustion. Only making me proud of the fact I wasn’t bothering a man to love or look at me in this mess of a life. Yet, I could never turn my back on them and so exhaustion came with the playing field. I know the feeling of having nobody and wanting an authority figure. It’s surprising how much it’s wanted when it’s missing.

That’s freakishly comical in more than one way. Taking my time, I checked through the attendance sheets; making it a priority to check every class. Raphael tends to skip throughout the day, while Valentine will leave school early to take on shifts at her job. While I respect the work ethic and determination in the young girl’s heart, she must be carefully and mindful. The time flew as I sat there, putting in notes on my computer as I tried to get my things together, still attempting to reading over minor details. The clock was reading nine, fifteen when I finally walked out and to my car. By good fortune, during this time the traffic isn’t as heavy as five through seven o'clock traffic. Pulling off onto the road, as usual, the music from my phone filled the ride as I headed home.

“Hold on!” Drying my hands of dish soap; I hurried to the front door of my apartment. It had to be after eleven at night and someone was pounding at my door. It couldn’t be Olivia, at least I hope not. She and I were meeting for lunch tomorrow and then planned an overdue nail appointment tomorrow night with her favorite nail tech Gloria. Plus, I was taking her shopping for her in-laws visit the day after. My sister had no need to be visiting.

I may not have much experience with mothers-in-law, well I have none, but I have good taste and a positive attitude.

“Who is it?” Turning the locks on the door, I swung it open. Coming face to face with the last person I expected.

“Why are you here?”

“I gotta talk to you about something.” I shook my head at Michael’s words.

“Ain’t nobody outside, Mike, what’s good?”

“Don’t play, you know I’m not about to stand in the middle of the hallway and have a conversation with you. Let me in, man.” In only a true Mike Shaw fashion, he pushed himself past me and into the kitchen I had just spent an hour cleaning after a late dinner.

Once the door was locked, I followed his trail. Finding him in the refrigerator grabbing an individual bottle of fruit punch and a container of day-old homemade lasagna.

Or what I would’ve called my lunch for tomorrow.

“You came to eat or talk?”

“Both. Shit you got food, why not eat while I’m here?”

Popping off the lid, he slid the plate in the microwave while I took a seat at the counter, watching him.

Mike and I have been close since Harvard. He too was a Miami soul along with Kingston. Since graduation, we have drifted due to his scheduling and me trying to take care of my sister at the time and getting my first “real” job. Yet; he has been in New York since me and a few other college friends returned home. His main reason was because of the opportunity he saw with working on Jay Z’s, at the time, new record label - Roc Nation. Fortunately, Omar Grant saw something in Mike’s ability to find new talents, giving him the second authority figure in Roc Nation’s A&R department.

Nevertheless, I don’t see much of Mike. Not until something goes wrong. The last three times he’s been caught in some scandal of lies with females, actually the very last time he was here dealing with the fact he could possibly be fathering a child with a female whose name or face he couldn’t even remember.

He’s funny and charming, and as much as he reminds me why I’m still standing by him even with how much has changed, I can’t afford, emotionally, to continue to take on his issues.

“Mike?”

“I’ll get to it, just let me eat something real quick.”

Four minutes went by before he opens his mouth and I know because I watch the count on the microwave tick on until the twelve o'clock hour and some.

“Ibrahim is getting married.” He finally says.

For a second I almost missed it. Not because I didn’t understand what he said, but because I almost through he wasn’t speaking to me - considering the fact I didn’t care. Ibrahim? I haven’t spoken with him since college. He’s…….FBI too. There’s not much to say to his kind.

“And?” I asked, wondering where the issues lay with him or better me.

“And that means King is coming into town.”

“Kingston is always in New York, at least from what I believe. He’s……..well you know.”

“FBI?”

He’s more than that poor Michael, but I understand.

“Yeah,” Frowning, I looked at him. “That’s why you came over here? To tell me Ib was getting married?”

“Hell no, I came to eat with all honesty,” He said holding up the plate, as if I couldn’t already see that. “And……..give you this,” Reaching in his back pocket, he pulled out wrinkled up golden envelope with the names ‘Chrissie and Olivia’ written on the front.

“It’s an invite to his wedding and reception. He didn’t know if you’ll accept it from him. Y'all haven’t talk in forever, but I don’t remember much of a problem between y'all. But you know.” Shrugging his shoulders as if I was supposed to fill in the blanks.

“Who’s all coming?”

“You and your sister, me, maybe King, Damon, and that’s all I know for now.”

“Are you in it or just attending?”

“Attending, with you,” Laughing, he shook his head at the inside joke. “You know Ib got like five brothers by himself. He don’t need no more groomsmen.”

Chuckling, I had to agree with him on that. There had to be at least four or maybe five Aubry brothers, including one who was named Bas that attended MIT, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, in Cambridge a year after we’ve started. And one younger sister, who I believe was named Jesse. She was only twelve the last I had seen or heard about her.

“Look, I know it’s been a minute since you’ve been around all them, but I figured it was worth the chance. You have friends, I don’t why you revolve yourself around work twenty-four seven. Spend some time doing something relaxing,” Michael said with another mouthful of my potential lunch.

“Just look at it as our very own version of Best Man and you could even be……….Mia.”

“Oh, no. Hell no. She ended up dying, my guy.” I replied, frowning at the fact he gave her. I much rather be Jordan or even Robyn.

“No she did not. Mia was the one with the football player, Lance.”

“Yes, she died in the last movie, Best Man Holiday, Mike. ”

“Oh shit, I never watched that. Thanks for ruining it, Chris.”

“You brought it up!”

“Anyways,” Tossing the plate in the sink, he untwisted the bottle’s top. “You’re going, Liv going and we are having a good time. I just wanted to deliver this to you myself so you couldn’t punk out. Or lie and say you never got the invite.”

“So that’s it?”

“I guess, since you don’t have any more food,” Turning he picked up his phone and then an unopened box of fruit snacks caught his attention. “Well never mind. I’m going to watch a movie instead.”

“I got to work in the morning, Michael.”

“I’ll be alright. You won’t be bothering me.”

King

“I need a week vacation.” Releasing the typed request form onto Stephen’s desk, he looked up at me, taking in my words. For the past few days we’ve kept our distance, obviously the run in at my mother’s gravesite left us both feeling uneasy around one another. Maybe he overheard me, maybe he didn’t. Regardless I was competent with the temporary gap. Perhaps it gave us both time to think and focus on something else of substance. “For what?” “Because I do. Just for starters.” “……Right.” And just like that he went back to reading his newspaper. It had been his early morning pattern along with a cup of coffee since I was old enough to structure a memory of him. What wasn’t a part of his routine was him agreeing so willingly to my commands or requests. “Cool, I’ll take it in a couple weeks. I’ll let you know a week in advance before it happens as a reminder. What’s for today though?” Stephen picked up a folder, the word ‘confidential’ stamped across the front. Choosing a staple remover from his possession, I opened the ends, reading over the text of the official papers while walking to my office two doors down on the top floor of the Bureau headquarters in D.C. I had been here for the past four days, wishing at times for the comforts of my own home and bed, the silence of the small city and neighborhood where my only issues was my own kind kicking my door from neighbor speculation. My townhouse here was amazing, Stephen threw one of the best interior designers stationed around District of Colombia, Jonathan Adler, in my hands, yet told me to back away and 'allow the man to work.’ While the house looked great; it wasn’t all my style either. I speculate its “home” regardless. Inside my office I closed and locked the door behind me, my mind processing the information I was reading over. Apparently, an ex-agent was meeting up with Russians, there was no telling of who he was talking to exactly or talking about, but still there was meetings being held. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, but with our new President, he’s so paranoid of the smallest what-ifs the man would kill his own family over speculation. I didn’t know if I had much room, I never killed anyone of my family, but I’ve pushed them away enough to break their hearts. Still he’s Trump. I rather Bush. Something moved and my head snapped up, locking eyes with a smirking Yasmin. The tip of my favorite pen being toyed with in her mouth. It’s been some time since I last seen her, still I wasn’t so restful with her presence here. “What?” I asked. Closing the document in my hand, holding it tightly. She stood, coming towards me, her eyes and body having that seductive vibe feeding towards me. I’ve known Yasmin since I was accredited. She was at the party Director Thomas Griffin, at the time acting attorney at the headquarters, threw for me as the up and coming government assassin. The celebration did last for an hour and not to long afterwards, she was on her knees in front me in the privacy of the bathroom stall. As wrong as I knew it was, she was gifted and I took the chance to unwrap her talents. Now I regret it, only because she’s too clingy. Clinginess gets you either hurt or killed around me. And I’ve only let one stranger come in my life and learn my secrets while staying alive.

“I thought if you had a moment, we could……….you know.” It wasn’t a question, she knew, I knew exactly what she was hinting at. “No, I got to work. Get out.” “Why you play hard to get, now? We’ve already been down this road.” Going around her, I took a seat at my desk, putting the portfolio underneath the Mac Pro occupying my desk. “Why you not playing hard to get?” I shot back, able to give her my attention for a while and when I say a while I mean a few seconds. “We’re grown, we want what we want. Why should either of us be playing around? You help me, I’ll help you.” “You know if we ever get caught, you’re fired.” “You used to be more………….unrestrained. More willing to take challenges and have fun,” Her long red finger nail trailing down my button-down shirt to the top of my belt. I hate it. “More excited. I’ve bored you.” True. “I’m busy.” “You didn’t go get in a relationship behind my back did you, Vitale?” “No, Yasmin. I’m just not with it,” Motioning to the door, I showed my true intentions. “See yourself out please.” Opening the computer, I hoped to show myself doing something; busy enough to brush her off. One day I’ll regret this, but today wasn’t that day. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

#j. cole ff

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evans-inkworks · 7 years

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“You ever hear the legend of the Blind Trapper? You ain’t? Well, sit down and I’ll tell it to you like my papa told it to me and his before him and so on. Settle down, there you go. Put that log on the fire, there. Alright, now. Here’s how the story goes:

Long time ago there was a boy who come from these here hills. He was a son of the mountain true as true. Wasn’t nobody who could track a bear like him, nor shoot as straight nor move as quiet through the trees. He was like an apparition, there one minute and gone the next, never makin’ a sound.

Well, this was right about the height of the Indian Wars and the fighting was fierce. There was a need for experienced mountain men who could fight like the Indians, who could track em. So this young man went and signed on up and soon enough he was out fighting Indians. Turns out, this boy, well, he was right good at it, too. He could throw up that rifle of his and knock a brave off his pony from 600 yards and not think nothing off it. Nobody in that outfit could compete.

In fact, he was so good he began to get a sort of reputation. He started getting meaner and darker. He started liking the killing. Hell, he loved it. No good Christian man should ever love killing another man. Ain’t nothing good about taking a life. But this boy, well it reminded him of tracking bear back home, but instead of big ole, dumb bear this here was men. Crafty and even more dangerous. The more he killed the meaner he got and the more he wanted to kill. None of his comrades dared to speak against him for fear of what he would do. He became like one who has a devil on him.

Now, this went on for a good while until one particular day out on the plains. The trapper and his company had just raided an Indian village. While the rest of the men were burning the teepees and rounding up the ponies the trapper sat himself up on a hill and aimed his rifle out across the plains. He took aim, slow and steady and he fired it off, right into the back of a squaw who was running away. He loaded that rifle again and fired off another shot and down went another squaw. He went on like this until the last of the fleeing Indians, women and children alike, lay dead in the grass.

Suddenly, up out of the west there rolled a dark thunderhead. It swept over the plain and cast the trapper and his men and the burning village in a deep, dark shadow. As the trapper looked up he saw a single arrow fly through the air and land square in the chest of a soldier down below. Then the air was full of arrows. Instead of rain from the thunder head their came arrows! A band of Indian braves had tracked them down and launched a surprise attack!

Everything was chaos as mounted braves swarmed in among the soldiers and shot their arrows off. Men fell dead where they stood. The trapper turned about and fired his rifle and knocked a brave off his pony. He shot again and again and again and braves fell dead to the ground. As he raised his rifle once more he felt a heavy thud on the back of his head. A brave had snuck up on him and socked him hard with his war club. He walloped the trapper again and knocked him down in the dirt. Well that Indian and trapper fought hard for a minute but eventually the trapper killed the brave. As he stood up an arrow caught him in the back. He went down again and blacked out.

A dull pain in his head woke him. Then it began to burn like brand. He jerked awake to a big brave peeling his scalp off. He had cut right down to the skull! The trapper took the brave by surprise thinking he was dead and took the knife and drove it deep into his attackers heart. As the brave fell dead he rolled down the hill into some tall grass and was hidden from view.

He stayed there well into the dark of night until the last of the Indians were gone. He was hurt bad and couldn’t walk so he began to crawl. He crawled all through the night and into the day. He crawled until he couldn’t crawl no more. His mouth was like cotton and his fingernails had fallen off from digging his hands into the dirt to drag himself along. He rolled over onto his back and saw a single crow flying high up above him in the sky. The crow circled lower and lower until it landed with a thunk on his chest. It dug it’s big, black claws into his ragged shirt and looked him square in the eye. Looked right down into his soul and when he saw what lay there he cried and plucked the trappers eyes right out of his head.

The trapper couldn’t fight off the crow. He had no strength left in his mortal body and far off over the plains he heard howls. The hounds of hell were coming to drag him off into Sheol. With the last of his breath he cried out! He cursed the very earth he bled into and demanded an audience with the devil himself. At that moment the crow quit jabbing at his face and looked down at the man. And from his beak he spoke with the voice of a man.

“You wish to speak with me? Here I am. Speak.”

The trapper muttered through his cracked, bloody lips.

“I ain’t a dying here, Lucifer. I am a killer of men. The way I see it I have sent more souls down to you than just about any other. You let me live and I’ll keep on sending ‘em until the Lord himself comes back.”

The devil who was the crow sat and he pondered this a moment. “Very well. You will live. But you will remember who it is you serve. Your eyes are mine forever. Now crawl away and do my work.”

So the crow flew off into the sky and the trapper drug himself across the plains. Eventually he made his way home, to these hills. He crawled deep down into the hollers and hid under roots and leavea, eating bugs and worms until he could stand and kill again. He lives out there still to this day, fulfilling his contract to the Devil: souls in exchange for his eternal life. Those who wander too far into the hills are never seen again. Some say they hear screams, particularly on dark and thunderous evenings. That’s the Blind Trapper skinning his victims like a hare. Like he was skint hisself with the very same Indian knife.

So, if you ever should find yourself lost out there and you feel a heavy weight on the back of your neck stand yourself perfectly still. Don’t you move a muscle. The Blind Trapper is listening for you. If you don’t move or make a noise he may walk past you and off into the trees and brush. Best wait a while longer still until that heavy feeling is gone off your neck. Then head the other way slow and quiet like.

I felt that heaviness once in my life. Not long after my papa told me this story. I was out tracking and got so caught up that I plain lost where I was. Now, I didn’t believe my pa’s story and was more worried about trying to find my way home before dark. Just as I had made up my mind to tear off I felt it. A heavyness on my neck and hot like mules breath. My arms snapped to my side and I didn’t dare move an inch. I stood stock still like a rock. My hair stood on end and I was listening as hard as I could but I realized the woods had gone quiet. Not a sound could I hear until… A terrible loud caw of an old big crow right above me in the pines! I shook all down to my boots and about fell out right there but I didn’t move. I stood still for what seemed like eternity. Figured I’d stand there until the Lord called me home. But sure enough, that heaviness started to leave my neck. Eventually I didn’t feel it no more but still I didn’t move. I didn’t move until I heard the birds start chirping again. Then I new I was safe and I started making my way as careful as I could. After that day I never forgot where I was when I was out in the woods. Y'all best not either.

Here now, put another log on that fire it’s done got low. There you go.

#storytime #folktales #shortstory #writing #art #penandink #illustration #boredstuff

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tminor09 · 7 years

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Is It Possible To Remain Friends With An Ex?

So I didn’t have much to write about yesterday so I spent the day putting up fashion and poetry. Usually my thoughts come to me before work, or Before Bed. Those are my quiet times and I’m able to just concentrate. I remember seeing this meme that said “Don’t let these movies fool you, it’s only two ways you can remain friends with your ex after a break up, either y'all still like each other, or you never liked each other to begin with. I believe there is some merit to this. I’ve tried numerous times to remain friends with my ex girlfriends, but usually things get weird and we fade apart. The only woman that I can say that actually came back and we are actually cool is Jade. But then I have to ask myself the question, did you really like her? The back story behind Jade and myself goes back years, about 10 years. Back when I was still going to my home church. One of the girls, her name was Alexis, that sung in the choir had brought her cousin along which was Jade. Not to sound shallow, but I noticed Jade because she was cute and also skinny. All of the other girls at the church wasn’t. She eventually became cool with everyone and she kept coming back. Eventually joining the church. I forgot how we hooked up, I remember the day because we were in the front sitting room of the church, I can’t remember if her cousin Alexis or my cousin Chazz asked me if I liked her. Of course we had been talking at the church, but that was the day I got her number. I think when I started dating her I had to be around 17 because I had my first car and my parents started letting me drive to church on my own. This was significant because pretty much all of our so called relationship was me driving over at night, it started off with just chilling in the car. Eventually it led to her sneaking me in the house into her room. Fast forward, the reason we broke up was because of mess. Chazz, my cousin back then was kind of messy, he was the guy who got along with women better than men because of his feminine tendencies. He’s gay now so that explains it. But, him and Jade were close, eventually jade started getting closer to me and started talking to him less. Chazz and I would talk sometimes on the phone. But he started throwing out that Jade was cheating on me. Jade is my friend now and no hard feelings, but back then before she met me she was a little promiscuous, her and her cousins, which all went to the church. That’s who Chazz claimed she was hanging out with going to guys houses. Chazz over exaggerated the story but eventually it came to the light that part of it was true. Well if you know me, when I first heard it I became distant while I tried to investigate. Basically by distant I mean shutting off all emotions and feelings and becoming part asshole. I remember it started causing problems at the church with the youth so we all got called into the office by my older cousin which was Chazz’s oldest brother who was also the youth pastor. He called a meeting to Air things out. Basically a lot of the story’s that I was told was fabricated by Chazz because he was jealous that he was left out. But she did sleep with another guy while out with Alexis and her other cousin who went to the church Catherine. I remember my older cousin asking "so do yal think yal can work things out?” I was like “Hell no!” And that was the end of that. I got told more stories about stuff she was doing by one of their friends who eventually joined the church, but all in all I never really caught feelings for her because I shut them off before anything got really serious. So it was nothing when we stopped talking for a few years. Don’t get me wrong Jade is super cool, that’s why we get along now somewhat. I was just telling why we didn’t workout. We don’t talk daily, not even weekly, but whenever we do we can talk for hours. We met back up because after breaking up from my last relationship I was feeling down and I found out she was back in Houston after moving to California with her then boyfriend/ baby daddy. I hit her up on IG I remember her telling me that her and her fiancée/ baby daddy had broken up so that's why she moved back with her daughter. I was like damn, then I told her about my break up and she was like "Aw man I was rooting for yal, yal were so cute together." and we been cool since then. I guess we learned each other from these 10 years. We just now started hanging out again she brings her friends I bring mine. We are cool because we aired everything out along time ago, that and not talking for like 6 years time heals everything. Chalked it up to just being young. We did stupid things both of us. We could be away and not talk for months and then hit each other up like nothing, and that's rare with me. Like even recently how her friend and my friends started hanging out it was like a perfect storm of events. We hadn’t talked in months. That was back when I was friends with my previous ex. Stuff went down hill, that’s a story for a little later. Well she texted me out of the blue saying she was in the area and could her and her friend change clothes at my place. If you read my past blogs I told this story before. She even asked if her and her friends ever were to get drunk and can’t make it all of the way home could they spend the night at my place if they are on Westheimer, since majority of the hot clubs are in this area. I told her yeah. That’s why I keep so many blankets in my closet for people who need to sleep over. But all in all so far she is the only ex that I can say I’m cool with because of time, and closure. Usually time is the key factor. I try to be friends with all of my ex’s time usually tells. Some of them I wonder how we became friends or dated in the first place, others I can hit up and be cool with but, we talk every couple of years. My most recent was kind of in the middle somewhere. Fresh off of the break up, we tried to be friends but honestly it was still unspoken issues that never got aired out, so it was tension when I talked about a woman that I liked and I had issues when it came to guys she liked. So even though we were best friends, to me it was never any closure, but oh well. I still consider her a friend, we just don’t talk. So that’s where the meme comes in again. If you can be friends with a ex either you still like each other so it’s hard to see them care about someone else such as the case of my previous ex mitchelle. Or you never cared so everything is cool such as the case with Jade. It was a quote actually, but someone turned it into a meme I gotta find out who wrote it. But that’s how life goes it’s full of twist and turns, you just find your way through it.

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