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adventures-of-the-creeping-bam · 5 months

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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM, BOOK FOUR: THE HUNT - CHAPTER 13

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Boof 4 Chapter 1 is here …

IMPORTANT: Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SHAYLINE

When Kesla outlined the opening move in the plan, I thought she was making a somewhat off-colour joke, because it was just too ridiculous to be a real idea. I laughed out loud, I couldn’t help it, it was actually funny, and I wasn’t the only one. Art chuckled along with me, and even Tulen managed something like an amused smile, which I’ll admit was nice to see. Others just looked surprised, even dubious, especially Krakka. She just looked right back at me, completely serious.

No. She genuinely meant it. It left the rest of us kind of stumped for a minute or so, genuinely going over whether or not it would actually work. I mean sure, it had the benefit of being unexpected, and it would certainly cause the right kind of chaos, but it’s also ridiculously dangerous. I mean, the Late Bone is built on a dock. There’s water under the boards and foundations. Deep water. Well, sort of deep, anyway. Enough for ships to moor, at least.

But she meant it, and once we went over it a few times, it became clear that, risky move as it might be, there are benefits enough to just about balance the big risk. If it works. Even now, as we’re actually doing it, I’m very much hedging my bets …

Driver 8 hits the front of the building at full speed after charging from the very edge of the dock, just short of the water itself, on all fours. He turns around at the last moment, so he can plough through backwards, skidding on his heels with his head down and shoulders hunched, and I swear, it’s like the ground floor took a direct hit from a trebuchet. The whole dock shakes like an earthquake just hit, or maybe a ship’s run aground, and the entire tavern is instantly lost from view in a great cloud of dust and raining, shattered wood and masonry as the entrance implodes. It’s a spectacular sight, and I skid to a stop seeing it happen, I’m too awed by what I just witnessed to keep charging after him.

“Hey!” Art skids to a halt too, turning to face me as he regains his balance, arms out with sword and knife held wide and tail curled out high to maintain it. “Shay! You good?”

“Oh!” I feel my face warming a little as I snap back to my senses, but given the exertion and excitement of the moment I doubt it shows. “Yes, of course. That was just … I still can’t believe we’re actually doing this. Not like that, anyway.”

“Well we are, clearly.” Dumoli comes thumping past with his hammer gripped in both hands in front of him, barely slowing enough to communicate. “We’re committed now! Best just to go with it!”

“He’s right, o’ course.” Art starts to back up in the same direction, arms still held wide with weapons pointing in either direction. “C’mon, fight won’t wait for you.”

He’s turned and gone before I can respond, and I just start running again, gripping my still sheathed sword at my side as I go, wanting to wait to draw until I really am committed. The golem might just have ended the fight before it even started with that display.

Art and Dumoli are already in ahead of me as I arrive, disappearing into the cloying haze of dust, and I almost hesitate again before entering that, wary given how likely it is to deaden visibility for both friend and foe. But then Zuldrad whips past me without stopping and I quit thinking about it, taking a breath before powering right into it, and now I draw.

The place is alive with noise and blurred movement, bodies shifting around me as anyone who wasn’t knocked down or even, probably, just turned into a wet smear by Driver 8’s entrance starts bolting in obvious fear and confusion. I keep my eyes narrowed as I go, slowing down now as I become mindful that the floor under me is suddenly a good deal more uneven, and finally just stop on the spot, taking a moment to evaluate my surroundings, at least as much as I can. Crap … maybe going in like this wasn’t such a good idea.

Then a shape blunders out of the gloomy haze right in front of me, and I almost attack before I even see what it is. But I check myself at the last, at least enough to get the best look I can as I tense, tightening low as I bring my blade back and ready … and when I see a young half-orc male with a bruised face and broken nose stumbling, coughing towards me with empty hands I almost feel bad about how vulnerable he is. So I don’t run him through like I initially planned, and instead turn my arm at the last on the stroke as he essentially just jogs right into it. The pommel of Ashsong’s sword catches him hard in his jaw and his feet skid out from under him as he spits blood and broken teeth, flipping backward in mid-air as I follow through so he crashes down on his upper back with a great winded grunt, and doesn’t move again after. I’m already moving on.

Then I hear a great crack behind me that has far too much force in it to simply be Lady Naru bringing her staff down to strike the boards under her feet, so when a great blast of air whips past me I just tense up, brining my arm up across my face at the last. At least it keeps me from getting blinded as all the dust in the air is instantly blasted out in all directions, but then suddenly it’s clear again and as I bring my arm down again suddenly I can see the chaos perfectly.

Fuck … Big Man didn’t even slow down coming through, he just slid right on through and ended up right in the bar. He’s on his arse now, or whatever he actually has that passes for one, he might even be wedged in the back wall now, while he’s partially buried in the debris of smashed stone and shattered wood from his passage. That’s not stopping him from laying about with his hands though, and I suspect he started doing damage the moment he finally came to a rest, obviously not having to actually worry about being able to see in the dust. As I take stock I see him reach out with one of his massive hands and plough a burly, balding middle-aged sailor-type into the floor with an unpleasantly wet crunch. I look away as my stomach turns, again a little startled by just how fucking dangerous he actually is.

But there are others in here beside that unlucky bastard, living ones who weren’t unlucky enough to get run down by however many tons of careening golem. I see Dumoli take the legs out from under one with a wild swing of his hammer, and the poor bugger drops face-first to the floor without even getting a chance to bring his arms up to cushion his fall. Art, meanwhile, deftly sidesteps the desperate sword-stroke of one of the more alert thugs, dealing a particularly cruel underhand slash with my former sword while deflecting his friend’s awkward jab with his offhand knife. Skipping aside, he throws his new opponent off-balance as he entirely fails to react in time and follows through with three alarmingly quick and precise jabs to his chest, dancing away before he’s even started to drop.

Seeing Zuldrad’s already making his own presence felt in here too, I instead move on through the open doorway in the middle of the wall into the other room, where Lady Naru’s already gone ahead. I hear more sounds of surprise and shock, as well as the whoosh of metal and hefty hits landing, knowing even before I see her fighting that she’s lashing about with her staff, and as I watch she mutters something under her breath and one swing lands particularly hard. Much harder than her more willowy frame has any right to as it lends strength to the strike, the very air seeming to flash under the impact as she takes three of her would-be attackers down in one go. But there are plenty more in here besides, and while some are too startled to react just yet, still reeling from the surprise of our initial overwhelming entrance, others are already shaking off their shock. So I go to work with more earnestness.

When the first one comes with his sword already drawn, I give up trying to play nice, stepping into a ready stance and taking a low, two-handed grip on my sword as I set my jaw. This one looks like one of the younger ones, another half-orc, but I get the impression he’s one of the place’s resident security, a good deal steadier on his feet than some of the others around us, even so early in the day. He barely bothers to read me as he comes, instead just rushing me hard with his sword brandished high, letting out a throaty war cry that I’m sure is intended to be intimidating, but having grown up in much fiercer company the effect’s lost on me.

So as he brings his sword down, intended to cut me down with a heavy sweeping chop, I simply sidestep and bring Ashsong’s sword up and around as I move, fully extending through the stroke as I complete my motion so it ends up held straight out in front of me. Barely any blood on it at all, I see, but he’s already collapsing as it takes a moment to really start to gush, already limp as he doesn’t quite come apart since I didn’t fully cleave him in two but just powered hard through the centre of his chest and out the other side. He hits with a heavy, wet thud and doesn’t move, and the two who were coming fast behind him are already faltering seeing how deftly I just annihilated their friend.

Taking a slow step back to straighten up, I cock my head in a quizzical way at them both as they start to rethink their strategy, keeping my face cool and calm, and this seems to shake them both a little more as they give each other a wary look. Then one just frowns and rolls his eyes my way, the other scowling in response, before finally giving an angry nod as he lets out a frustrated sigh … and after turning back they wait a beat before both attacking at once.

Well, I have to admire their guts, and it’s smart enough thinking given they’ve both clearly worked out they’re facing a skilled opponent. So I tighten up and let go with my left hand as I take two big steps back as they advance, already slipping one of my longest knives free while preparing to meet them both … and then feint hard to the right before ducking low left and, instead of attacking I just throw myself forward into a low roll right under the feet of the one coming in on that side.

He doesn’t even have a chance to stop himself as I take his legs right out from under him, and as I find my feet on the other side I’m already spinning round before I even think about springing up again. The other one’s only now recovering from stumbling badly from his own overextension after falling for my feint, barely sidestepping in time to keep from getting barrelled down too as his friend goes tumbling, and I’m already bolting in low towards him.

At least he still has enough wit to back-peddle until he can get his shit together, but even then he barely gets his shortsword up in time to just knock aside the quick lunge I make with my sword for his gut. Except I’m already twisting in response, and before he can bring the handaxe in his other hand round to chop into me I’m already shoving my knife in where I’d originally aimed my sword. He’s a little shorter than me and no larger either, so he folds over the stab, my blade puncturing the wind right out of his diaphragm as I jam it in up to the hilt before giving a little twist, not intended to be cruel but just so I can yank it free without fuss. Then I let him drop as I sidestep, already seeing his friend’s starting to recover now.

This one’s bigger, heavier but still built agile enough to give me pause, and as he turns round he spots me coming fast and springs back accordingly, similarly quick on the uptake as he realises my imminent threat. I stop where I am, tightening up into a close defensive crouch, keeping my knife close to me while I hold the sword low but ready, idly weaving it back and forth between us with the ponderous steadiness of one of those fancy ticking clocks rich folk love so much. He looks down at it now, brows furrowing deep as he watches my blade, and when he looks up again he’s even more wary. Rethinking, and I wouldn’t blame him if he just decided to run this time.

He's an older one, too, human I realise now as I finally start to properly take him in, and while he’s a bit soft in the gut the way he holds himself is telling enough that he knows how to handle himself. The longsword in his hand’s clearly seen a lot of use, but it’s been well looked after, and I see him he cautiously tilt enough to reach into his left boot, slipping a knife free for his offhand. Yeah, this one’s a seasoned fighter all right.

All right, so I’ll play it smart. As the chaos spreads around me and Lady Naru’s swinging her staff while the rest of them are either scattering or getting mown down with either magic or just pure violence, I take a few cautious steps to the side and start to circle him, and he shifts carefully in answer. Still wary of my sword as I continue to play it back and forth, keeping my expression closed while I keep my eyes locked on his, watching for that early clue to any intention he might have.

Then the whole place shakes again as there’s another crunch from the other room before the sound of more scattering, smashing debris, and solid footfalls now to tell me that Big Man’s on his feet again and swinging with greater efficiency. My opponent twitches, a little startled by the sound, and there’s that single beat where he’s momentarily distracted enough for me to see an opening, which I take. I duck in fast and pull another feint to the left, intended to bait him as he catches the movement and realises his mistake, hopefully catching him out with another ruse as I then snap suddenly to the right again …

But he’s more on the ball than I thought he’d be, recovering before I can catch him in the side and instead twisting his offhand quick enough to hook my sword aside, and I draw back fast, not willing to give him a fresh opening to respond in kind. Instead I whip a striking cut under with my knife aiming square for that wrist and he barely pulls back in time himself that I just graze him instead of laying his arm right open, so he keeps his blade, but as he pulls back his eyes are wide. Lesson learned, clearly.

Giving my knife a little shake now to flick away the excess of blood it’s already wearing from the previous kill, I start to crab back the other way, no longer weaving my sword as I shift my stance to bring my own offhand down between us instead. Shifting the sword behind me now, I take one more sidelong step and then dance back the other way with sudden, intentionally startling speed, and he has to scramble to respond as I spin quick on my heels and twirl in close on his side. Swinging the sword as I come, I come close to catching him in the shoulder as he clumsily wheels away from the strike, barely bringing his sword up in time to batter it away, and now he’s unbalanced again and I plant my own feet firmly as I prepare my own responding spring.

He tries to ward me away with a wild haymaker as he fights to find his feet again, but I’m already tumbling past the stroke in a controlled roll, bringing my sword round as I come up on the other side to drive it hard up from right under his defences now. He doesn’t have a chance to defend himself and, like the rest of these poor bastards, he’s not wearing a scrap of armour, so I lay him right open from his hip to the corresponding shoulder. For a long moment he just sways in front of me as I finish the stroke and then draw back fast, giving the sword a hard flourish out to the side to whip the blade clean, then he finally realises I just killed him and starts to collapse. I take one last step back as he topples forward, and he just lands hard face first, blades clattering across the floorboards as they slip from his slack fingers, and he doesn’t stir again after.

The other one’s still twitching on the floor nearby, I notice, but there’s an unnervingly large pool of blood spreading out from under him and his spasms are growing visibly weaker, clearly he’s not got much time left as he wheezes his life away. Honestly, I’m not feeling that good about any of the kills I’ve made here, but now I’ve actually got a moment to think about it I realise this one in particular is going to stay with me …

Glass smashes behind me and I snap out of my grim reverie, turning to see some of the remaining clientele are trying to circumnavigate the main exit by smashing open the windows. It’s proving trickier than they’d like, it looks like, since they’re small panes laid between wood and lead and all they have is chairs to try and batter their way through, but two of the bigger ones are still giving it a go while others are clustering around them. Desperate for their own escape in the face of what’s going on around them. Honestly, I don’t blame them, I’ve seen what the golem’s capable of and that entrance was probably the most terrifying thing any of these people have seen in their lives.

Taking a few steps that way, I hold my arms out wide with my blades cocked and stomp my foot hard down twice to get a little attention. “Hey! Are you trying to get away? We’ve got business here, still.”

From the look of it, only a few of them are actually security like the others, so I’m mindful to just let the rest go, but we’re not about that here, anyone who doesn’t actively try to kill me could still be sympathetic to Jammund and his friends. We need live captives to question, in case we come up empty on leads here. So I take another step their way and whip my sword up at a scared woman in battered overalls, pointing it right at her face as I draw closer still, and she scrambles back, finally tripping and tumbling back into a chair that leaves her leaning back against the wall. If she even tries to move now she’ll just end up flat on her back still in the chair.

“Thank you!” I whip the sword aside now and two more of them jump back, similarly alarmed, one already following the woman’s example to plant herself, while the other does the same as soon as I motion for him to do it too. Then I turn to the only two still trying to batter their way through the windows and plant my sword blade against the cheek of the one on my right while waving my knife in front of his companion when he wheels about in response.

“Ah … ah-ah-ah … that’ll do, lads. None of that, please. Just sit down, if you would.”

The second one just does as directed, lowering the chair in his hands to the floor and planting himself in it with exaggerated slowness, but the one I’m holding in place with my sword is wisely staying very still right now. He’s watching me closely through the corner of his wide eyes, and there’s a lot of sweat dripping down his face now, so I give him a sharp glare for a few beats before carefully removing the point from his cheek and then waving the sword aside again. I take a slow step back but swing the blade right back between us after as he starts to turn towards me, holding the chair close in front of him now like he’s planning on using it like a shield. So I give it a little tap with the sword and then nod at the floor, and after a particularly pregnant beat he seems to get the message, setting it down with particularly exaggerated care before planting himself in it next to his companion.

“That’s better.” I turn enough to take in the rest. “All right, who’s armed?”

After a long pause, the two big ones raise their hands, the one I chastised particularly slow about it, and I give him a sharp look seeing it. He’s scowling now, and I’ll admit I’ve a mind to give him a few shallow jabs in his thigh just to make him more compliant, but I stop myself. Not now, Shay. You don’t do that kind of thing anymore. Instead I just wave the sword at him again. “Take everything out, then. Both of you. Very slowly.”

For a moment they just look at each other, and I suspect they might be thinking about making a move after all, so I take a step forward again, lightly tapping each on the knee with the sword to regain their attention. “Yeah, no. I wouldn’t recommend that at all. That would be really foolish. Just do as you’re told, please.”

The more troublesome one just glares at me again, but the other one starts to comply, being really careful about it as he slowly draws his sword and plucks his knife out after. So I turn to his friend and give him another very pointed look, waving my blade at the shortsword on his hip and the axe hooked into his belt on the other side.

“Please.” I cock my head as emphasis, really drilling my hard stare into him now.

For another beat he continues to frown up at me, making me think he’s just going to ignore the request out of pure spite now, but finally he reaches across and, a little more aggressively than I’d really like, reaches down for both weapons at once and plucks them free. I tense now as he starts to raise both, and make a point of letting him see me do it, and perhaps this is what finally checks him as he just holds them in front of him like his friend, giving me that hot, petulant glare. “Now what?”

“Toss them all, please.”

“Where?” the other one wonders, sounding more confused than anything else now. He starts to look about.

“Well, you both got the ball rolling, so …” I point with my sword again, this time at the hole they’ve managed to smash through the panes and mouldings. “Out the window, if you would. Just so you’re not tempted to try anything after.”

This just earns another hot glare from the uncooperative one, but his friend just sighs and turns in his seat, throwing both blades over his shoulder and through the hole. After another protracted pause the other one does the same, first with the shortsword and then the axe, before finally turning back to glare up at me once again. “Happy now?”

“Oh yes. Ecstatic.” I take a step toward him now and kick him hard in the face, smashing him hard with my heel as he’s barged clean backwards in the chair to thump down in it with his feet up in the air. He starts howling almost immediately, both hands going to his now shattered nose as it starts gushing, and I let him just get it out for a few moments before leaning forward and prodding him in the crotch with the tip of Ashsong’s sword. Not hard enough to cut him, but easily enough to get his attention. Needless to say he shuts up instantly, bringing his hands away just enough that he can look up at me with wide, teary eyes. Ooh … looks like I knocked a few teeth out too.

“All right. Are we paying attention now?”

He doesn’t answer me, but the way he holds his hands a little higher in clear supplication is enough to keep me from jabbing his balls a little harder after all.

“Fantastic. Stay right there, please. Your long overdue cooperation is most appreciated.”

Stepping back, I look over the rest, pleased enough to see that, particularly after this last disciplinary measure, they’re all being similarly compliant. As I look her way, the one in the overalls even leans forward enough to bring her leg up and pluck a knife from inside one of her boots, then very conspicuously tosses it through the hole in the window after the rest of the weapons. The look on her face tells me she thinks I’m a fucking demon right now.

Satisfied that at least this handful won’t be any further trouble, I finally feel comfortable enough to turn my back on them so I can take the rest of the room in again, now a whole lot more aware how much quieter it’s gotten since we came in. When I look now I find that Lady Naru’s stood in the middle of the room with her staff planted on the floor in her relaxed hand, the other laid casually on the hilt of the sword she still hasn’t had cause to draw yet, looking around at her own handiwork. There are several battered bodies lying around her, most of them still twitching or rocking back and forth enough to let me know they’re still alive even if some of them weren’t groaning in obvious dazed discomfort, but one or two look like they might be dead too. She clearly wasn’t holding back.

There are another half dozen patrons sitting in similar cowed silence against the walls, some watching her very carefully with similar startled wariness to my own prisoners, while others are just nursing more modest bruises of their own. She turns my way now, almost like she’s just sensed my attention, and gives me a little half smile that seems more than a little self-satisfied as she notes my admiration of her prowess. “Is that it, do you suppose?” she wonders after a moment.

“Thorin, I hope so.” I mostly just breathe it, stepping forward now so I can take a more purposeful look around the room. I see the hearth stood at the back, unlit for now, and there’s another particularly battered looking half-orc lying stunned with his head right in the middle of it, who likely would’ve woken right up again once he started burning if it had been lit. There’s a passage just to the left of it, I see, wide enough to let three people step through abreast, and there are stairs turning up to the side to climb up beyond. The second floor. Where Yeslee and Brung should have gone, according to the plan. Jumping in through one of the upstairs windows from their position on the roof when Driver 8 made his big loud entrance.

“You two all right in here, then?” I hear Art call out before I turn back, seeing him stepping into the room from the main one now, Dumoli already following him with his hammer laid across his shoulder, looking almost jovial now. As if he’s pleased to have finally been involved in an actual fight again instead of just getting battered or worse.

“Well enough, all things considered.” I respond, taking a moment to stick Ashsong’s sword into the floor before giving my knife a last little shake, then crouch down next to one of the bodies at my feet. The last one I cut down, I realise. Damn it … taking a rather regretful breath, I reach out and grab a bit of the back of his jerkin, using it to wipe the blade clean before slipping the knife back into its sheath. Then I pluck the sword free and, after a moment to decide if I really want to, check the strangely crystalline blade over.

Just as I expected, the blood that did catch on it in the sheer speed of my blows is already disappearing, the enchantment in the steel again hungrily drinking it in to strengthen itself. I can’t keep from shuddering seeing it, letting a low hiss out through my clenched teeth as I step towards the bakaneko now and muttering: “Fucking vampire sword.” under my breath.

Art looks up as I take care sheathing the sword again, which still feels a little counter-intuitive given how hard da always drummed it into me to never put a bloody sword back in its scabbard for fear of it sticking. “You all right?”

I’m a moment answering him, mindful he must be picking up on my grim mood, and I’m really not sure how to respond, really. I’ll admit when this all started I was itching for a real, stand-up fight again, against living, normal adversaries, instead of that nightmare we faced last night, but … now it’s done it doesn’t sit well with me. As I turn to take a quick look over the handful I managed to take prisoner, I feel something like shame stirring in me. It’s … honestly, I don’t like how easy it felt to slip back into old habits when I had to harangue and intimidate them into obedience. It felt a little too much like the old days, working the bandit trade with my mother.

“This better be worth our time.” I finally growl, looking down at the poor bastard I left bleeding out on the floor. Conspicuously still now, I notice.

“I couldn’t say.” he sighs, what good humour he had when he came in fading fast in the face of my much darker mood. “Just gotta hope, right? Remember who we’re doing this for.”

Nodding, I let out a weary sigh. He’s right, of course. Remember Gael, just help our friend. That’s all that matters here, right now.

Krakka steps in with Zuldrad close behind, almost seeming like he’s shadowing our cleric right now, which is an interesting idea. It’s almost like he’s taking what I said to him earlier especially to heart, when I asked him to keep an eye on the tengu while we were at this. He’s steady enough on his feet now, but … honestly, he still seems to look uncomfortable all the time now, like moving’s still difficult, as if his joints are stiff and his head’s sore. Like he’s feeling his age even more now.

I mean it’s not hard to pick up on as he enters, glaring all around with a particularly dark frown on his face, and he hasn’t shouldered his hammer like usual, instead just lugging it about one-handed like a piece of particularly cumbersome luggage. Like it’s an actual burden, which I’m starting to learn is never a good sign. Bloodmoon is his most personal symbol of his connection to his goddess, and despite its obvious substantial heft he’s normally able to wield it as if it was no heavier than a weapon far smaller and more wieldy. I worry he’s still feeling the after-effects of his overexertion from last night, which would mean he’s having a much tougher time recovering.

Our eyes meet after a moment, and at least he manages to hold my gaze, but I think he can tell what I’m thinking, how worried I am about him. So he looks away first, instead hefting Bloodmoon so he can let it settle beside him, head down with the shaft sticking up like he prefers, and he does it with a noticeably winded grunt he really can’t hide.

When I back turn to Art I realise he’s been watching me, like he’s picked up on my regard too, and he winces a little, letting me know he’s worried too. Great …

“So how about upstairs?” Zuldrad wonders after a moment, sounding a bit like he just wants to get us thinking about something else. “D’you reckon they’re good?”

“Well it’s a good deal quieter up there than I’d imagine if there was trouble.” Art ventures, looking up at the ceiling now, and I follow his gaze. “Besides, Yeslee’s tough as Kesla, she could prob’ly take a roomful all on her own. Brung’s almost overkill for this.”

“I hope so.” I mutter, more to myself, as I notice all the light coming through the arched doorway between these two rooms is almost immediately blotted out as Driver 8 crouches down just on the other side so he can look through at us. Likely judging whether or not he can actually fit through. Probably sideways, it seems about wide enough.

He shifts subtly now, and I wonder if he might be looking up too, I really can’t tell given the fact that he can’t actually turn his head, it seems more like a careful shift of his shoulders. Then there’s a great heavy thump from above, followed by a lot of similarly loud crashing, and suddenly I hear several people starting to shout out at once, some genuinely screaming in very obvious fear and alarm. Oh, that can’t be god …

“What the fuck is that?” Art’s already starting to shift warily towards the stairs, looking up like everyone else in this room, and he’s gripping his blades tight.

“There is an orc upstairs.” Big Man rumbles now, matter-of-fact as always, but even so he’s starling to work his way as carefully as he can through the doorway. “An extremely large one. He is being very aggressive indeed.”

“Shit …” Art’s eyes instantly snap to mine, and I feel a cold chill run right through me. Damn it, I’d all but forgotten about that not-so-little snag. “Of course he is.”

“Fuck!” the bakaneko doesn’t wait for permission as he just rushes straight for the stairs and starts climbing at speed. I’m already starting that way myself when I see someone else topple into view down the stairs behind him, and it takes me a moment to realise they must’ve been shoved aside in his hurry to get up there. Two more emerge quickly after as this one picks himself up and staggers for a few feet before collapsing by the hearth with his chest heaving heavily, and one of them takes a tumble before she reaches the bottom step too, almost bringing the other one down with her. They’re clearly panicked, their faces pale and eyes wide, like they’ve seen some terrifying monster on the rampage, and I suspect that’s not far from the truth.

Stopping where I am, I look back to see the others are coming after me too, and then I remember the prisoners. “No! Not now. I need some of you to stay here, guard them.”

Considering for a beat, I can hear the chaos still unfolding above, and there are more spilling down the stairs now, only stopping when they come face to face with the golem as he now crouches right in front of the doorway. Finally I nod to Zuldrad, then Lady Naru. “Come on. I need you two. Du, Krakka, you watch them.” I point right at Krakka as he starts to open his beak, knowing he’s about to protest, and I don’t have time. “No. I mean it. Stay with Big Man. If we do need you you’ll know soon enough.”

Before he can respond to that I’m already turning and heading for the stairs. The trickle of escapees seems to have stopped now, at least, but I’m really not sure if that’s a good sign or bad right now. I hear a great crunch close by as I start pounding up the rickety stairs, which shift and warp alarmingly under my feet as I go but at least stay intact enough for me to climb, and there’s still some shouting coming from up there too. Not so much as before, though. I take that as a bad sign.

There’s another floor above this one but it’s clear to me even before I reach the landing that this is the level I want as I see a body essentially crumble into the doorway directly across from me as I reach the top of this flight of stairs. Honestly, I really can’t identify who that used to be, they’re just a broken, bloody mangle, but … no, I don’t think it’s one of my friends. Or maybe I just hope not as I rush inside, heart in my mouth, sending up a prayer to Thorin as I clear the door that I’m not about to just run right into a hit …

… I come damn close as I enter the room, but I see the swing coming just in time to duck, throwing myself forward and not so much rolling underneath the big spiked mace as just tumbling onto my back against the wall to the side. The big metal head crunches hard into the doorframe right where I would have been and lodges there, but as I look up I realise I wasn’t the actual target, instead I just got damn near caught out by a missed backswing. I’m not even given a moment to take in the room and what’s actually going on in here before I have to throw myself aside, almost going sprawling all over again as I duck behind what’s left of a long couch.

Just as three javelin-long black arrows lodge themselves hard in the wall right by where I was. I hear a fretful hiss of: “Shit!” right after, and when I look up I can just see Yeslee ducking aside as she just casts her bow down and leaps aside herself on the other side of the room, barely missing a far more focused swing from a massive battleaxe. I’m not sure if that oath was in response to seeing how close she came to killing me or just in anticipation of nearly getting cut down herself.

Scrambling along the wall on hands and knees with my backside tucked as low as I can, I move as deep as I can into what cover there is, although really it’s little more than kindling and torn upholstery now, it’s like every piece of furniture here has been destroyed. Pretty thoroughly too, crushed, torn or carved apart by wild swings of large blades wielded by huge thick fists. And when I’m finally comfortable enough in my cover to actually look up I see whose.

My suspicion over Big Man’s earlier prediction seems to have been accurate, Granzun’s up here and he is pissed. Art and Zuldrad’s former friend is laying about with wild abandon, one hand now empty having abandoned his mace but as I watch he finally reaches up with his dominant hand and drags an axe off his back to supplement the one he’s already got. And from the look of it he’s still got plenty more steel still on him, too, hanging at his waist or on his back, or strapped to either thigh, all within easy reach of his uncannily quick hands.

I remember all too well what he was capable of when we last faced him, in the rain in that abandoned livery stable. He’s even more terrifying in the cold light of day, pouring now through the badly broken windows facing out across the docks, especially clad in his thick black leather armour, more substantially upgraded with extra pieces of substantial steel plate now, I notice. Shit … he seemed worryingly hard to kill before, now it looks like an even tougher prospect with all that.

Whoever was left up here that didn’t make it downstairs when this all kicked off is dead now, I can see there are no more survivors up here aside from Yeslee and Brung, and now Art too, each doing their best to just keep out of his way as he keeps swinging. The rest are little more than broken, cleaved chum, scattered about the room much like the furniture, no corpses left in one piece in the gigantic orc’s rage.

Now I’m looking, though … no, I don’t think rage is the right word for it. He’s angry, sure, but once I start examining his tactics I realise this is a good deal less wild and haphazard than I first thought. He’s swinging wide with these great haymakers, but they’re a good deal more precise than they might seem to a casual eye, intended to keep us at very long arm’s length and on our back feet as he opens as much space as he can around himself. And the fact that he isn’t bleeding yet, and doesn’t have any of Yeslee’s long arrows buried in him, tells me he’s moving with impressive enough speed to keep from getting hit while his three similarly swift opponents have been going at him.

As I look now I see Zuldrad finally clear the door and he immediately ducks as he throws himself to the floor, turning over what’s left of a table as he barely dodges a reactive swing from the right-hand axe. They’re typically scary blades, clearly as well made as the rest of the orc’s weaponry, obviously forged by the same Thieves Guild weaponsmiths that armed Art in the same dark, smoky steel that I’m really coming to admire. But I’m having trouble in this case, being on the wrong end of it right now. As I watch Zuldrad throws himself under Granzun’s feet as he shifts them, and as he tumbles through he’s got two knives out, intent on slashing at the orc’s ankles and maybe hamstringing him, potentially bringing him right down for the rest of us …

Except that instead his former friend’s already sidestepping, so his blades miss one leg while the other swings round with such perfect precision that it drives a hard kick into his back and sends him tumbling across the rest of the room. He hits the wall just under the broken windows with a hefty thump and I’m sure I hear something crack too, but the orc’s next move grabs my attention too well for me to check on our hobgoblin friend. Because Granzun turns his sudden turn into another swing, this one coming in much closer to the wall where Yeslee is, so when he follows through on the back of his spin he just carves his offhand axe about hard and with uncanny speed. Right for her back as she hurls herself forward too.

Fuck … a hair’s breadth quicker and he might have ended her right there, but she’s just too swift, instead tumbling out from under his axe as it tears a deep, dusty groove into the plaster and stone of the wall instead with a great shower of sparks raining down. Finally managing to unhook her hatchet as she recovers, she backs up fast towards the further wall to open some space to regroup as she breathes heavy. Not winded, just a little shook, I can tell from her unusually wide eyes.

Then something ripples through the air from the doorway and I see a great streaking glob of bright blue energy smash into the wall too, hitting hard enough the shake the place, I feel … but Granzun’s already wheeled out of the way, dancing on unbelievably deft feet as he sidesteps towards me now. As though he already knew he was being shot at and ducked out of the way of Lady Naru’s magical bolt without ever being in any danger at all. Certainly the way he still seems so calm … no, he’s still very much in control of this situation …

Damn it … I draw Ashsong’s sword now, remembering the enchantment Stormshield said had been placed in this uncanny steel, specifically designed to cleave through plate steel armour as if it was cloth. I can hurt him, I know I can. If I can just hit him.

Lady Naru’s frowning deep as she sidesteps from the doorway towards Yeslee, muttering something in clear frustration under her breath as she starts fishing in her components bag. Looking for something more effective, of course. I called her up here entirely because I knew we’d have a better chance of taking him out with a mage’s help, I just hope she finds something that’ll actually do the trick. He looks … honestly, this looks like one hard job.

Then Art steps forward, holding his blades out wide, like he wants to parley instead of fight, and plants himself conspicuously between the orc and the sorcerer. “Gran! C’mon mate! Please, just give it a rest, this is stupid. You don’t wanna fight us, you won’t win. I promise you, this won’t end well for you. Just drop the axes and quit. Please.”

For a charged moment, nobody moves or says a word, just waiting as the huge orc stays as he is, cautiously regarding the comparatively diminutive bakaneko he once called a friend. I’m just hoping it might actually work, that maybe he’s actually got through to him this time, although given our past experiences it seems unlikely.

Then Granzun flings the axe in his right hand at him, underhand so it spins at him almost entirely horizontal, aiming to cut him in half. He does it almost casually, but so suddenly that it’s entirely unexpected, so I don’t even move when it happens, it takes me so much by surprise. I’d almost expect it to kill Art on the spot, but somehow he barely catches it in time and doesn’t bother trying anything fancy, just dropping into a tight crouch with his head tucked right down at the last instant. The axe goes spinning right over the top of him, still moving so fast I’m kind of amazed I even pick up on it in the first place. And Lady Naru is right in its path now …

Now I start to move, I can’t help it. I’m not really sure what spurs me into motion, gods know I couldn’t hope to get to her in time given how far I am from her, but my body’s moving before I even start thinking about it. But it looks like Yeslee’s doing the same.

Yeah, she just reaches out and grabs hold of the sorcerer’s shoulder, digging her fingers right in as she yanks her towards her without any ceremony at all, and she must not have thought about it either because they both just go down together in a tangle. Meanwhile the axe keeps tumbling right through the space where she would’ve been before and imbeds itself deep into the wall in a great spray of shattering plaster and brick shards, finally lodging fast at a quivering angle. Then time finally seems to snap back to normal speed again, or I suppose it just does that for me, I can’t really be sure … and a whole mess of things all happen at once.

Granzun’s already turning, swinging his remaining axe over and aside so he can try to chop down into Brung as the goblin scrambles at him at an oblique angle, his shortsword cocked and ready with a particularly feral snarl baring his fangs and flaring his nostrils. Meanwhile Yeslee barely manages to arrest both her own and Lady Naru’s fall enough that they instead just flounder into the wall, managing to tangle up in each other’s arms while they both drop their weapons. Zuldrad’s managing to find his feet again, but he looks pretty shaky, almost doubled over with a clear lean to his left, and I doubt he’ll be good for much right now. Even if he wasn’t bleeding heavily from the back of his head …

And as I look towards our mutual foe I remember his other, now empty hand and see he’s plucked something from his belt … and I realise it’s not a weapon. Or at least not one I immediately recognise.

While his axe-swing misses Brung by bare inches, he’s already crushing whatever it is in his huge right hand, and it cracks before he winds up his arm and pitches the object towards Yeslee and Lady Naru. I barely get a glance at it as it arcs their way, but it looks like one of those strange, oddly glittering warlock stones, like the ones Ashsong gave to my friend Garnon and some of the others back in the mountains. Back in the time before all this … oh shit, I’m too late recognising it and making the connection, but seeing it starting to subtly glow as it hurtles towards my newer friends lends speed to my movements as I change course.

There’s nothing I can do about that, or about what it might do to my friends, so I just shout: “Watch out!” good and loud and instead head right for Granzun instead, cocking my sword as I rush him. Not looking to do anything fancy, I just want to finish this as quickly as I can.

Yeslee barely picks up on my warning in time, but she reacts as quick as I would have expected, giving Lady Naru a good hard shove to toss her away from her while she just braces where she is, still fallen back against the wall. So when this thing, whatever it is, hits the floor right in front of her all she can do is just raise her hands in front of her and wince …

It pops about the same instant I try to drive the whole length of Ashsong’s sword into his exposed side, so I almost don’t actually see what it does because I’m so intent on hitting my target. I barely manage to catch a flash and a crackling whoosh as something wild and crazy bright seems to lance out from it, haphazard enough to leave afterimages dancing in my eyes even though I’m not really looking. I’m just concentrating on my attack.

Except I shouted out to try and warn my friend like an idiot, I realise now, so he already knew I was coming and instead manages to bring his arm round in time … so I just impale that instead. The blade slips through the hard steel of his bracer like it was made of butter, slipping right out the other side of his wrist, and he pulls it back instantly as his blood spurts in my face, which is understandable, I don’t doubt it fucking hurts. The problem is I’m still holding onto my sword as it’s jammed right through his arm, and he must have close to two hundred pounds on me, so he yanks me right off my feet in the process.

For the next few moments I’m not really sure what the fuck is going on as I’m flailed about like a ragdoll while I cling to my sword with both hands as he tries to shake me off. I can hear him roaring too, though: “Bitch … oh you FUCKING CUNT!!! AAAAAARGH!!!” Then I feel my feet make contact with the floor, just for an instant, and it’s barely enough to give me some leverage so I just twist the blade and suddenly I’m free. But also entirely off balance as the momentum I’m still carrying pitches me headlong over the same bloody couch I was just hiding behind a few moments before. I just have enough presence of mind to let go of my sword so I don’t impale myself before the floor rushes up to meet me and my face smashes into it at a very high speed indeed …

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #the creeping bam #the adventures of the creeping bam #book 4 chapter 13 #original fiction #fantasy fiction #original fantasy fiction #to be continued

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edenmemes · 3 years

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❝ you promised to meet me before it starts, remember? ❞ ❝ you seem pretty...relaxed about the whole thing. ❞ ❝ is something wrong? what’s the hurry? ❞ ❝ sometimes i just don’t know what’s going on in your head. ❞ ❝ i'm not like you. i fail at everything i try. ❞ ❝ a shrimpy boy like you hardly looks the part of a hero. ❞ ❝ swatting a few monsters will be no trouble for you. ❞ ❝ run and play this time. get in my way again, though, and you’re dead. ❞ ❝ don’t even pretend that was an accident! ❞ ❝ do you doubt these eyes? i look upon your shirt and i see a single thread loose on your sleeve stitching. ❞ ❝ this is no place for one such as you. and yet here you stand. ❞ ❝ i need to vent all this unhealthy anger, and your agony is such a great stress reliever. ❞ ❝ remember what we discussed. restrain yourself. focus on the task at hand. ❞ ❝ do my words anger you? do my words sting? let them. ❞ ❝ you don’t come by here just to see me, do you? ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? you just made a face like you wanted to say something. ❞ ❝ oh, i get it. you’re trying to weasel out of having to practice. ❞ ❝ i guess it’s not all bad. at least i’m getting paid. ❞ ❝ there’s something i’ve been meaning to talk to you about.... ❞ ❝ would you wake up, straighten up, and grow a backbone already? ❞ ❝ nice try, but you’re not fooling me. ❞ ❝ i...i have to go. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ folks were always cheering me on like it was a parade. but as you know, time passes. ❞ ❝ you keep some very strange company, friend. ❞ ❝ i don’t know if it’s safe yet...i’m going to stay here awhile longer. ❞ ❝ oh no. you’ve done it now! there’s no escaping this one! ❞ ❝ so, what now? are you going to cry? ❞ ❝ i can’t begin to tell you how sorry i am for pulling you into all of this. ❞ ❝ what is wrong with you? just look at what you’ve done! ❞ ❝ what we’ve seen here today defies explanation. ❞ ❝ you put up more of a fight than i would have thought possible out of such a soft person. ❞ ❝ did you really just draw your sword? foolish. ❞ ❝ should you heed the call of destiny, i don’t know what dangers you may have to face. ❞ ❝ i can’t help being such a coward...i’m really sorry. ❞ ❝ i fear i spent far too long teasing and toying with you. ❞ ❝ you do your people proud. ❞ ❝ how long do we have to live in constant fear? ❞ ❝ i'll just beat you within an inch of your life! ❞ ❝ dawn is drawing near. it has been a long night for the both of us, hasn’t it? ❞ ❝ you were limp and unconscious. i feared the worst. ❞ ❝ what do you think you’re doing sneaking out with that? ❞ ❝ such a beautiful day, but we’re too busy to enjoy it. some things never change. ❞ ❝ i guess you’ll never learn unless you run into trouble one day. ❞ ❝ look at my face. if that’s your idea of a joke, i’m not laughing. ❞ ❝ you appeared to be relishing that snooze, so i declined to wake you. ❞ ❝ huh? oh, uh, nothing. really, i was, uh...talking to myself. ❞ ❝ you’re looking a little pale... ❞ ❝ i imagine you and i will cross paths again. until then, do not lower your guard. ❞ ❝ you certainly are persistent... ❞ ❝ all that may be well intentioned and true, but it doesn’t mean it’s right. ❞ ❝ i’m prepared to pay the price for what i’ve done. ❞ ❝ i had no idea we were fated to carry such a heavy destiny. ❞ ❝ i need your strength to tip the scales in our favor. ❞ ❝ all this training, and no results! ❞ ❝ all i’ve hears so far is a bunch of babbling about destiny, but that’s a load of garbage. ❞ ❝ when night draws her tenebrous curtain across the sky, i come here. ❞ ❝ what in the world just happened? did you use some kind of magic? ❞ ❝ please, see it through and prove the legends true. ❞ ❝ i was happy just spending my days hanging around with you. i wanted that feeling to last forever. ❞ ❝ you are vital to a mission of great importance. ❞ ❝ the chances of that happening are just about less than zero. ❞ ❝ i hate to break it to you, but today’s the day i bust up this adorable little fantasyland you’re living in. ❞ ❝ this is a war, and the fate of the land hangs in the balance. ❞ ❝ i know you, and you’re no hero. ❞ ❝ you’re messing with me. say it again, i dare you. ❞ ❝ you float through life with your head in the clouds. ❞ ❝ i don’t do charity for wimps. ❞ ❝ what’s this...? what is it that my eyes behold? ❞ ❝ don’t even think about it! are we clear? ❞ ❝ the point is your work here is done. i got it covered from here. ❞ ❝ my eyes foresee a hazardous, thorny road ahead for you... ❞ ❝ you...this is your fault, you know. ❞ ❝ my heart is bursting with thoughts of you. ❞ ❝ i have a serious dilemma on my mind right now, and you’re distracting me. ❞ ❝ i’ll make you proud. you’ll see! ❞ ❝ feels dangerous. something could jump out at us at any moment. ❞ ❝ we’re talking about a tale that’s been passed down over a lot of years, so i wouldn’t put much stock in it. ❞ ❝ i have the right to experience an unfettered and passionate love, don’t i? ❞ ❝ i’ll tell you, it gives even a big guy like me the creeps. ❞ ❝ oh...how can i get you to notice me? ❞ ❝ i get the feeling nothing i can say will talk you out of it. ❞ ❝ my love for you is wider than the horizon and deeper than the clouds. ❞ ❝ trust my piercing eyes...listen to my pure and innocent voice. ❞ ❝ i feel so excited, so cheerful, so full of life. ❞ ❝ i sense a silent power dwelling somewhere in your frame. ❞ ❝ this turn of events has left me with a strong appetite for bloodshed. ❞ ❝ there’s no doubting it. the gears of fate have begun to turn. ❞ ❝ i'm sorry. i was lost in thought there for a moment. ❞ ❝ don’t men open doors for a lady anymore? how long am i supposed to stand here waiting for a little chivalry? ❞ ❝ i hate even saying this, but i guess you got it all figured out. ❞ ❝ you must not push yourself. you’re still recovering. ❞ ❝ you think you’re pretty suave, don’t you? ❞ ❝ i know you’re in a hurry, so i really appreciate you taking the time to help. ❞ ❝ i saw it, but i was able to escape by the seat of my pants. ❞ ❝ do you have any idea how that made me feel inside? furious! outraged! sick with anger! ❞ ❝ you’re really something else. i could never imagine myself doing what you’re about to do. ❞ ❝ i must aid you in fulfilling the great destiny that is your burden to carry. ❞ ❝ i should have believed you...i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ lately, when i think about you, my head gets all fuzzy, my heart races, i get short of breath, and i feel all dizzy... ❞ ❝ you should know better than that to fret about me. ❞ ❝ thanks for jumping in there to rescue me. ❞ ❝ hey, hold on there! what are you trying to pull all of a sudden? ❞ ❝ your face cries out in earnest wonder, and that cry is: ‘what’s this?!’ ❞ ❝ i promise up front not to murder you. ❞ ❝ you...didn’t hear any of that, did you? there’s no way you heard, right? ❞ ❝ i tell you, all sorts of weird things are going on lately. ❞ ❝ calamitous visions appear before me... ❞ ❝ you...make me so happy...i think i’m going to keel over... ❞ ❝ i wanted you to be the first to see me like this. ❞ ❝ i can’t imagine a more fitting color for you. it’s as though you were born to wear it. ❞ ❝ i bet you can’t even decide what to have for lunch on your own, huh? ❞ ❝ amazing, right? wrong! it is beyond amazing! ❞ ❝ it can’t be easy for you, can it? ❞ ❝ you’ll see in time that you have your own role to play in all this. ❞ ❝ trust in fate to guide your feet. ❞ ❝ i bet you’re here just to check me out, right? ❞ ❝ i just hope nothing has happened. i’m worried sick thinking about it. ❞ ❝ whoa...you’re kind of imploding my mind right now. ❞ ❝ if you wanna live again one day, you should head for home. ❞ ❝ you have a great journey before you, and those clothes...they don’t look up to the task. ❞ ❝ did you manage to get even a wink of sleep last night? ❞ ❝ ever heard of banging your knuckles against the door? it’s called knocking. ❞ ❝ so, uh...yeah. just how long have you been standing there? ❞ ❝ honestly, it’s almost as though you become a completely different person when you worry about me. ❞ ❝ you showing up here must mean we’re connected somehow. like fate. ❞ ❝ sorry to put you through that. i guess i owe you one now. ❞ ❝ to tell you the truth, i’m feeling a little frustrated, and right now i just need someone to vent to. ❞ ❝ what’s with you? leave me alone if you don’t want anything. ❞ ❝ hearing that is such a...huge weight off my mind. ❞ ❝ though your journey will put you in harms way, you must endure. ❞ ❝ i'm just deadweight. what kinda use is that to anyone... ❞ ❝ seriously, what is that thing over there?! ❞ ❝ before i say another word, i feel like i owe you an apology. ❞ ❝ during your long journey, you’ve grown so much. ❞ ❝ from the moment i laid my eyes on you, i could tell you had a gentle and generous heart. ❞ ❝ oh dear...i don’t know what’s come over me all of a sudden... ❞ ❝ you don’t appear to have any serious injuries. for that much we can be grateful. ❞ ❝ i can see into those dopey eyes of yours. ❞ ❝ i can finally smile and laugh again! thank you ever so much. ❞ ❝ i think i might of broke something. ❞ ❝ is that it? i thought it was going to put up more of a fight. ❞ ❝ i thought we were goners this time. sort of glad i was wrong about that. ❞ ❝ what? i don’t seem like my usual self? ❞ ❝ this place needs a name. a name fitting for this rugged, adventurous wilderness. ❞ ❝ what were you thinking? you scared a year off my life! ❞ ❝ care to explain just what you meant by ‘our special moment alone’? ❞ ❝ my advice? work hard and wish with all your heart. ❞ ❝ say, you look all flustered. ❞ ❝ i fear we can’t dwell on our success. ❞ ❝ the world is bursting with undiscovered surprises, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ you're not exactly mr/mrs.perfect either, are you? ❞ ❝ this is easily as scary as i thought it would be. ❞ ❝ i swear this neighborhood’s getting crummier every day. ❞ ❝ you ain’t as dumb as you look. ❞ ❝ i was going to ask if you wanted me to take care of you forever... ❞ ❝ i need to learn how to keep these delirious dreams in check. ❞ ❝ maybe you should forget about everything that happened here tonight. ❞ ❝ can you imagine a more gruesome fate? ❞ ❝ there are more monsters about than before, so be careful. ❞ ❝ human desire is an insatiable, fearsome thing. ❞ ❝ i sense an evil presence on the other side of this door. ❞ ❝ you understand, don’t you? i’m not wrong about this, am i? ❞ ❝ i never wanted to lay eyes on you again. ❞ ❝ i would have gotten discouraged if you hadn’t come by to cheer me on. you gave me motivation. ❞ ❝ who do you think you are, getting involved in my business like that? ❞ ❝ i just wish there was more i could do for you... ❞ ❝ i don’t even understand how you could make such a wild accusation! ❞ ❝ it was at that moment i finally realized. i realized that...i love you. ❞ ❝ make sure you come home every now and then. nothing like a good sleep in your own bed. ❞ ❝ you’d better not keep me waiting. ❞ ❝ make sure you put your heart into it! i won’t stand for anything but your best. ❞ ❝ how could you be swayed by the temptation of material gain? do you have no honor? ❞ ❝ you really want to hear about all my troubles? that’s kind of you. ❞ ❝ you...weren’t supposed to see that whole spectacle. how embarrassing... ❞ ❝ you have only succeeded in buying us a little more time. ❞ ❝ watch it! that’s no way to talk to someone who just saved your life! ❞ ❝ you look like you need to get something off your chest. ❞ ❝ know that all the questions you have now will be answered in time. ❞ ❝ there is nothing natural about these tremors. ❞ ❝ you might just be the person i need! you seem pretty good with the ladies. ❞ ❝ it’s great to hear you’re so confident in me. ❞ ❝ ideal love is unfettered and passionate. anything less than that can’t really be called love at all. ❞ ❝ you're incessant buzzing around my head like some irksome gadfly when i’m this busy is...making me very disagreeable. ❞ ❝ you may not have noticed, but i’m trying to hide here. could you please scoot along? ❞ ❝ you'd better keep your eyes to yourself, if you know what i mean. ❞ ❝ have you come to laugh at me in my miserable state? ❞ ❝ you...you came to see me! i’m so happy. ❞ ❝ your job is simple! you make sure none of these monsters lays a claw on me. not...one...claw. ❞ ❝ now is not the time to be picky about who will help you. ❞ ❝ watch carefully while i demonstrate what a real hero looks like. ❞ ❝ you are something else! there is nothing you cannot do. ❞ ❝ if you think about how often we meet, you have to admit that our relationship has gone beyond friendship, you know? ❞ ❝ i’ll make the affair so excruciating, you’ll deafen yourself with the shrill sound of your own screams. ❞ ❝ i was right, then. there is something special about you. ❞ ❝ i should have reprimanded you the last time we met, but instead i was...soft. ❞ ❝ ha-ha! you didn’t see that coming, did you? ❞ ❝ you really are a snake in the grass. ❞ ❝ you are indeed worthy of being called a hero. ❞ ❝ i’m not used to getting stared at like this. it’s making me blush. ❞ ❝ i can’t hide anything from you, can i? ❞ ❝ the longer i train, the more i realize i’ll never measure up to you. ❞ ❝ whoa...you took out every last one of them. ❞ ❝ i know how bad this must look to you right now, but i assure you i mean no harm. ❞ ❝ it’s all very strange, but i doubt there’s much of a connection between these things. ❞ ❝ you're a weird one, climbing all the way up here. ❞ ❝ don’t cry --- it’s perfectly, mostly safe! ❞ ❝ you and i, we’re bound by that thread of fate. destined to fight. ❞ ❝ meet me in battle, and the thread of fate that binds us will be soaked crimson with your blood. ❞ ❝ i do not wish to dwell on what may have happened if you hadn’t been here. ❞ ❝ you have awakened a wrath that will burn for eons! ❞ ❝ you really like those fantasy stories, eh? ❞ ❝ there is one teensy, tiny thing i lack...namely, mercy. ❞ ❝ i must warn you, i won’t go easy on you this time. ❞ ❝ i might be willing to forgive and forget if you’ll strike a deal. ❞ ❝ since i know i can be honest with you, i’ll admit i got a little sulky. it was frowns all around. ❞ ❝ i see you’re still among the living. ❞ ❝ i saw them dragging you off unconscious, so i tailed them. ❞ ❝ i want you to visit me at my house tonight. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to say a word. i can see how you feel by the spark in your eye. ❞ ❝ you’ll see. i’ll be as tough as you in no time. ❞ ❝ it’s not like ‘oh, hey, that person’s back! i’m so happy!’ or anything like that... ❞ ❝ whoa...that’s some really terrible handwriting. ❞ ❝ i would very much like it if you would go out with me. ❞ ❝ truly? you choose me? ❞ ❝ i swear to you, whatever it takes, i will drag you into an eternity of torment. ❞ ❝ you and i, we’re bound by a thread of fate. ❞ ❝ i’ll watch over you, protecting you from afar. ❞ ❝ until then, we’ll keep our love secret. ❞ ❝ this news has just filled my heart with rainbows! ❞ ❝ this place seems strangely familiar... ❞ ❝ don’t you gotta take care of your own business first? ❞ ❝ they’re not going to do anything nice if they catch you. ❞ ❝ it’s not humane to tease someone this bored. ❞ ❝ i’m not some sideshow for you to gawk at. ❞ ❝ it’s weird to say out loud, but that’s just how i feel right now. ❞ ❝ you can’t break me with interrogation. you’ll never make me talk. ❞ ❝ word is there’s a huge treasure hidden in these here ruins... ❞ ❝ what? that’s not weird to say! ❞ ❝ ...i understand your true feelings. better than you know. ❞ ❝ all the fairytales that we heard growing up...they appear all too real. ❞ ❝ do i look sad? no, i’m doing what i want to do! ❞ ❝ i don’t know what came over me! i had no clue i had the talent to make something like this. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t be out here in the open with no way to defend yourself. ❞ ❝ you do have the tendency to cause trouble for those you ‘help’. ❞ ❝ as far as i’m concerned, i got nothing but time. ❞ ❝ don’t you play coy with me. i know that you know, so why not let me in on the fun? ❞ ❝ so you really think a sob story like that is going to work on me? what a joke. ❞ ❝ i’d take pleasure in punishing you, but i have no time for recreation. ❞ ❝ sorry to leave you on your own, but you look like you can handle it. ❞ ❝ remember --- it’s a secret to everybody. ❞ ❝ it isn’t as action packed as what you’re doing, but maybe this is my destiny. ❞ ❝ don’t you just love the way it smells down here? ❞ ❝ defending the land...it’s my purpose, i think. it’s why i’m here. ❞ ❝ what do i know...you might just surprise me. ❞ ❝ fibber! you’re a fibbity fibber! ❞ ❝ you needn’t even say it. i can tell from the look of sheer astonishment on your face. ❞ ❝ you have had this destiny thrust upon you without warning... or choice, for that matter. ❞ ❝ don’t do anything heroic and get yourself caught. ❞ ❝ ...you want to tell me but you can’t? ❞ ❝ you know, i really worry about you. it’s a weakness of mine. ❞ ❝ try not to get in the way of my shots, ok? ❞ ❝ i haven’t slept a wink in...ahhh...i don’t even know how long. ❞ ❝ i had my suspicions, but until now i wasn’t sure. ❞ ❝ you seem a good deal stronger than the last time we met. ❞ ❝ i would be remiss if i didn’t let you know of the weight on my heart. ❞ ❝ i have a reputation to protect, you know. ❞ ❝ listen closely. do you hear that? ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay starters

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batboys-batboys · 3 years

Text

I’ve recently witnessed some discourse in the fandom in which the OP called Nesta an abuser and offered thoughts on the relationship dynamic she has with her sisters vs with Emerie and Gwyn, the Valkyries she now refers to as sisters. Someone commented on said post and asked when Nesta had abused Elain. There’s inherent bias in this post as I really like Elain’s character in the books but for the purposes of this post only CANON will be referenced.

First off, let me preface this by saying I love Nesta as a character, but I don’t put her on any kind of pedestal for a multitude of reasons. Also, please let me know if you’d like for me to retag this in any particular way as this is my first serious post.

Here we go…

Chapter 17

Silver lined Elain’s eyes, but her voice remained steady, sure. “There was nothing that could have been done to save him, Nesta.”

The words were kindling. Elain had accepted his death as inevitable. She hadn’t bothered to fight for him, as if he hadn’t been worth the effort, precisely as Nesta knew she herself wasn’t worth the effort.

This time, Nesta didn’t stop the power from shining in her eyes; she shook so violently she had to fist her hands. “You tell yourself there’s nothing that could have been done because it’s unbearable to think that you could have saved him, if you’d only deigned to show up a few minutes earlier.” The lie was bitter in her mouth.

It wasn’t Elain’s fault their father had died. No, that was entirely Nesta’s own fault. But if Elain was so determined to root out the good in her, then she’d show her sister how ugly she could be. Let a fraction of this agony rip into her.

This was why Elain had chosen Feyre. This.

Feyre had rescued Elain time and again. But Nesta had sat by, armed only with her viper’s tongue. Sat by while they starved. Sat by when Hybern stole them away and shoved them into the Cauldron. Sat by when Elain had been kidnapped. And when their father had been in Hybern’s grip, she had done nothing, nothing to save him, either. Fear had frozen her, blanketing her mind, and she’d let it do so, let it master her, so that by the time her father’s neck had snapped, it had been too late. And entirely her fault.

Why wouldn’t Elain choose Feyre?

Elain stiffened, but refused to balk from whatever she beheld in Nesta’s gaze. “You think I’m to blame for his death?” Challenge filled each word. Challenge—from Elain, of all people. “No one but the King of Hybern is to blame for that.” The quaver in her voice belied her firm words.

Nesta knew she’d hit her mark. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t continue. Enough. She had said enough. That fast, the power in her receded, vanishing into smoke on the wind. Leaving only exhaustion weighing her bones, her breath. “It doesn’t matter what I think. Go back to Feyre and your little garden.”

Even during their squabbles in the cottage, fighting over who got clothes or boots or ribbons, it had never been like this. Those fights had been petty, born of misery and discomfort. This was a different beast entirely, from a place as dark as the gloom at the base of the library.

Not the blatant belittlement with that “little garden” comment. Trust me when I say I know intrusive thoughts and that this was early on in Nesta’s mental journey but still. This is her, CANONICALLY, preying on Elain’s emotions about what happened with their father and Hybern. We know that Nesta went through a lot of self-hate in this book but that whole “Let a fraction of this agony rip into her” was uncalled for. Elain went to see her sister, whom she admires and recognizes as her protector, only to get chewed out. Don’t get me wrong, I’m aware that Nesta didn’t want her there but Nesta was unable to control her emotions and consciously sought to hurt Elain with her words. (Not that she’s not hurting/hating herself too I mean just read the underlined part.)

Chapter 21 (sidenote: this chapter needs to be talked more about in the fandom)

Post Nesta refusing to let Elain find the Trove and the “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” moment. (iconic btw)

Nesta’s pulse pounded throughout her body. “Do you not remember the war? What we encountered? Do you not remember the Cauldron kidnapping you, bringing you into the heart of Hybern’s camp?”

“I do,” Elain said coldly. “And I remember Feyre rescuing me.”

For a heartbeat, it appeared that Elain might say something to soften the words. But Nesta cut her off, seething at the pity about to be thrown her way. “Look who decided to grow claws after all,” she crooned. “Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.”

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

Elain’s eyes brightened with pain. Something imploded in Nesta’s chest at that expression. She opened her mouth, as if it could somehow be undone. But Elain said, “I went into the Cauldron, too you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you can think of is what mytrauma did to you.”

Aside from the obvious iconic nature of this whole exchange here we see Nesta yet again hurt and belittle Elain. And yeah, sure, Elain tried to hurt Nesta too here by throwing in that reminder that it was Feyre (and Az) who went into Hybern’s camp and rescued her. But as soon as she did it she went into an apology mode but was cut off as her sister couldn’t stand someone feeling sad for her and needed to remind Elain that she’s a bad person who hurts others. The “interesting at last” comment was a (pardon my French) bitch move. There, I said it.

Nesta knew just which words to use to beat down her younger sister who’d always looked up to her, and she didn’t hesitate to use them. She knew which words would hurt her and she said them. Elain shot back here though and reminded Nesta that her trauma with being captured by the Cauldron is her own and no one can shoulder that for her. And that despite this trauma, she’s willing to risk herself to find the Trove and face the magic that took her choices away.

Anyways, I just wanted to shed some light on some scenes that I think a lot of readers and participants of the acotar tumblr fandom glossed over. These were, coincidentally, 2 of the few times Elain showed up in ACOSF. I mean, given the fandom’s warring views on Elain as a character it’s not shocking people would gloss over her and Nesta’s interactions (even though she who knows more about Nesta than anyone else).

I guess I’ll close this by saying that Nesta is not a perfect character. And, admittedly, these scenes did happen in the first half of the book. However, just because Nesta battled her mental health and overcame a lot of challenges, it doesn’t erase the fact that she hurt Elain with her words. She preyed on her younger sister’s love for her and (to my recollection) did not apologize for the way she treated her. Nesta’s an interesting character and so is Elain. Elain is a huge part of the acotar story/world, whether you like it or not.

#acosf #elain archeron #nesta archeron #i love her but this needed to be addressed #not sure if its anti but just in case like I'm only talking about things she's said that were not good #lmk what yall think

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

Text

an icarus and his sun: chapter 3

A/N: seablings headcanon? seablings headcanon. (i adore jimmy and lizzie's dynamic, they're siblings ur honor. and joel makes a pretty great in-law tbh)

Warnings: arguing, flirting, teasing/banter

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

Katherine was extremely serious about the “no weapons” thing. Not a single tool was allowed, not even shovels or hoes. She had everyone place their weapons and tools in specifically marked chests, assuring each of them that they could get them back after the meeting, and that her iron golems would protect them from any threats if they were to arise. Besides, the chests were just at the entrance of her castle, visible from the meeting table. They could easily rush to their weapons if need be. It didn’t mean anyone was less jumpy about it, though. And Jimmy was particularly antsy- Fwhip was practically glowering at the table, and while Sausage looked outwardly cheerful, there was an edge to every word he spoke. Jimmy couldn’t fight the paranoia that one or both of them had snuck weapons to the meeting, and was just waiting for the right moment to strike.

And then there was Scott. There wasn’t anything outwardly shifty about the winged elf, but… there was definitely… something. Jimmy wasn’t sure what it was, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off Scott. He was perfectly poised, as always, every hair in place and wings mantled. There was something elegant and serene about Scott as he listened to Katherine speak with a gentle smile. His gaze was focused on her, and Jimmy tried to search those icy blue eyes for any hint of malice. He found nothing but kindness, and that was what worried him. Surely Scott should be up to something… right? He had seemed so hostile the other day, but then they both apologized to each other… maybe he had nothing to worry about. But then there was that strange, soft yet calculating look he had given Jimmy, like he could finally start seeing the complete picture a puzzle would make. Was that something bad?

Jimmy’s thoughts were interrupted by Scott’s eyes suddenly meeting his, one eyebrow raised. Jimmy tried his best not to jump as he quickly looked away, focusing on Katherine. He could still feel Scott’s eyes on him, and absurdly, Jimmy felt like he was melting. Figures that Scott would have secret laser eyes or something. He wouldn’t even need a weapon, that was his plan all along. Surely that’s why Jimmy felt like he was going to implode, he definitely wasn’t embarrassed. Definitely. Thankfully, Scott’s eyes shifted away as Katherine spoke again.

“Now, there is one very important thing I wanted to discuss at this meeting. I don’t know if any of you have heard, but there are some new empires rising up. I think we should do our best to welcome the new rulers,” Katherine said. For the first time in the whole meeting, Fwhip looked interested. Somehow that scared Jimmy more than when he was grumpy and despondent.

“What would you suggest?” Fwhip asked, voice smooth and suspiciously charming. Jimmy didn’t like his tone one bit, but Katherine seemed to fall for it, beaming at Fwhip’s sudden interest.

“I would like to hold the first ever House Blossom Ball. All rulers will be invited, and it will be held in honor of the two new empires in our lands,” she explained.

“Oh that sounds wonderful!” Gem exclaimed, and excited murmurs of agreement circled through the room. But Jimmy felt uneasy. He did like the idea of a ball, dancing and dressing up fancy with friends sounded fun! But Fwhip’s excitement didn’t sit quite right with him, and there was the other issue of the two new empires. How did they know they could really trust them? Establishing a good relationship was important, yes, but was inviting them in so openly the best idea? Jimmy had tried being so open before, but look where that got him. A war over a disc, and a ravine on the outskirts of his empire. And now whatever was happening between him and Scott. Then suddenly, as if just thinking of him prompted him to speak, Scott brought up one of the very things that Jimmy was worried about.

“What do we know about these empires? Do you think we can trust them?” he asked. The excited murmurs stopped, something uneasy settling in the air instead. Katherine faltered for a moment, but kept her head high.

“The House Blossom Ball will hold the same rule as our meetings now do: no weapons. So unwarranted attacks will not be an issue. And not a lot is known about the other empires… they are just starting out, after all. One of them is in the jungle, and his empire can only be found if you are lost. The other empire seems to have sprouted up from nowhere, but its ruler has come a long way to settle here. In a way, both are lost. As the ten ruling powers in this land, I think it is our duty to welcome them so that they won’t have to be lost anymore,” Katherine said firmly.

“Poetic,” Fwhip said, voice a little overly saccharine for Jimmy’s liking. Katherine seemed a little put off by his tone as well, but didn’t comment on it. A determined frown came to Jimmy’s face. His skepticism be damned, he was going to support Katherine. He turned to her and smiled, reaching out to gently clasp Katherine’s hand, not unlike how she had after the last meeting.

“I agree with you, Katherine. Let’s help them be found,” Jimmy said softly, giving her hand a light squeeze before letting go. Katherine smiled at the touch, seeming grateful that Jimmy backed her up.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Jimmy,” Scott said dryly. Jimmy looked to Scott in surprise, expecting more of a fight, some clever retort or thought-out reason for why the ball couldn’t happen.

“Thank you, Scott,” Jimmy said, unable to keep a small smile off of his face. Scott’s nose scrunched up in irritation- and yup, there was the Scott he knew. Always looking at Jimmy with disdain or irritation.

“I was more supporting Katherine here than anything else,” Scott pointed out with a huff.

“But you specifically mentioned me…” Jimmy trailed off with a teasing grin. Scott’s cheeks tinted pink, just ever so slightly- but he still glared at Jimmy in frustration.

“Shut up,” he muttered. Jimmy grinned wider.

“Make me,” he teased, parroting Scott’s words from the last meeting. Sausage gasped, excitedly tapping Pearl’s arm as she shushed him and muttered something about how we had talked about this, Sausage.

“Well… we definitely have two supporters of the ball, any other thoughts?” Katherine asked, not-so-subtly changing the subject.

“I am absolutely in support, it sounds fun!” Gem replied, elbowing Fwhip. He jumped, and nodded in agreement.

“If Scott and Jimmy are going to be there, I definitely want to see what goes down,” Sausage chimed in with a grin. Scott and Jimmy both made an offended sound, but Pearl spoke up before either of them could say anything.

“And it’s a good diplomatic foot forward with the two new empires, Sausage. I think the ball is a lovely idea, Katherine,” Pearl said, offering an apologetic smile to both Scott and Jimmy for Sausage’s comment.

“I’m in too! I’d love a chance to dress all fancy and dance with Joel,” Lizzie added, linking arms with Joel and gazing up at him with a charming smile. Joel blushed a bit, and nodded his agreement as well.

“Well, since it seems like everyone else is going to this dance, guess I’d better show up too,” Pixl said with a nonchalant shrug and a grin. Katherine clapped her hands in excitement.

“Oh wonderful! I think I’ll cut this meeting short then, I have a lot of preparations to take care of, and I will send out the invitations soon!” Katherine said, rising from the table. The other rulers followed her lead, each of them bidding her goodbye before they went to their respective chests to retrieve their weapons and tools.

“I look forward to the ball, Katherine. I’m sure it’ll be a blast,” Fwhip said with a bow of his head and a cocky grin. Katherine beamed in response.

“Thank you! I’m glad to see you’re excited!” she replied, bowing her head to Fwhip as well. Jimmy still wasn’t sure how he felt about Fwhip’s sudden interest at the meeting… but then again Fwhip was only really Jimmy’s enemy. He and Katherine were on good terms, after all. He should trust Katherine’s judgement, even if he didn’t like Fwhip. He did, however, wait until Fwhip left to walk up to Katherine and bid her goodbye.

“See you later, Katherine! I’m excited for the ball, I’m sure with you in charge it will go great!” he said with a grin. Katherine laughed, blushing slightly.

“Aw, thanks Jimmy! And who knows, maybe the ball will not only forge new alliances with the new empires, but will strengthen or fix the bonds of the current ones,” Katherine said, glancing pointedly at Scott, whose back was to them as he looked over his weapons, before she looked back at Jimmy. She smiled not-so-innocently, and Jimmy’s face flushed in embarrassment.

“I- well, I dunno about that. But… maybe. Today’s meeting didn’t go too bad, right?” Jimmy asked with a hopeful smile. Katherine giggled.

“Right! You guys are really turning a corner here, I can feel it!” she chirped. Jimmy laughed, shaking his head.

“Whatever you say, Katherine. I’ll be off now,” Jimmy said, bowing his head.

“Bye!” Katherine replied, bowing her head too and offering a little wave as Jimmy left. He waved back, and was still smiling to himself as he met Joel and Lizzie outside. The two of them had their elytra on, and there was a smug grin on Lizzie’s face that Jimmy didn’t like one bit.

“What’s that smile for?” Jimmy asked with a laugh as he equipped his elytra.

“Oh, I was just thinking about how you couldn’t contribute anything to the first half of the meeting because you were making eyes at a certain elf,” Lizzie said with a teasing lilt.

“I wasn’t ‘making eyes,’ I was making sure that he wasn’t up to anything!” Jimmy spluttered.

“Sure you were,” Lizzie crooned, taking off before Jimmy got a chance to respond. Joel sighed, smiling sympathetically at him before following after Lizzie. Jimmy took off too, the conversation far from over, in his opinion.

Jimmy wasn’t quite fast enough to keep up with Lizzie, but she and Joel waited for him on the dock outside of his house. The three of them had often hung out and chatted on the dock, long before Joel and Lizzie had gotten married or even began courting. Their empires had been much smaller then, but the bond between the three of them hadn’t changed. Which was why Jimmy was (affectionately) furious with Lizzie for implying something about himself and Scott. He sat down beside her, feet dangling over the water.

“Explain yourself, right now,” Jimmy huffed, trying to put on an angry act but couldn’t really keep it up with Lizzie. She smiled far too innocently at him, and okay. Maybe he could manage a frustrated expression pointed at her.

“I mean, she’s got a point. Plus I heard about that uh- scuffle, you two had,” Joel said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned forward to look past Lizzie at Jimmy.

“Ooh yeah, Katherine did tell us about that. You’d better watch out for those land boys, Jimmy. They’re trouble,” Lizzie said with a mock-concerned tone, but her playful grin gave her away. Joel shifted to look at Lizzie with an offended noise.

“Babe, I’m right here,” he said, near pouting.

“I know what I said. You’re trouble, King of Mezalea,” Lizzie teased.

“Like you’re any better, Ocean Queen,” Joel replied with a laugh. Lizzie giggled, playfully swatting at Joel's arm.

"You may be right, but this is about Jimmy’s troublesome land boy," Lizzie pointed out as she turned back to Jimmy.

"He's not my land boy!" he protested, face heating up slightly.

"Aww, that blush says otherwise!" Lizzie teased.

“He could be your land boy if you weren’t so busy trying to kill each other,” Joel chimed in.

“That’s exactly why he’s never gonna be ‘mine,’ he hates me, and I hate him! There’s nothing else going on!” Jimmy protested.

“Are you sure you two hate each other? You seemed pretty friendly at the meeting today,” Joel pointed out, voice a bit more gentle than the teasing tone it had been before. Jimmy sighed.

“That’s only cause Katherine insisted on us apologizing to each other when we uh. Fought. We’re only playing nice for Katherine’s sake,” Jimmy said sheepishly.

“Uh huh. Or you’re playing nice because you think Scott is pretty,” Lizzie teased, elbowing Jimmy playfully.

“I don’t think he’s pretty! I- I mean objectively he looks nice I guess but it’s more irritating than anything! How can a guy be so perfectly poised and elegant all the time, it’s annoying!” Jimmy spluttered. Joel and Lizzie exchanged amused, bewildered looks before looking back at Jimmy.

“Wow, you really do have it bad for him, huh,” Joel commented with a disbelieving laugh. Jimmy made an offended sound, opening his mouth to retort but was halted by Lizzie patting his arm comfortingly.

“It’s okay Jimmy, I’m sure Scott will come around and see what a sweet swamp boy you are,” she crooned, Jimmy flushing at the childhood nickname Lizzie always used for him.

“You two are impossible, nothing’s going to happen between us! And I’d prefer it that way!” Jimmy shot back with a frown.

“Methinks the cod boy protests too much,” Joel said dryly.

“I’m the Codfather, thank you very much,” Jimmy huffed.

“Hey, maybe if things work out really well, you’ll be a Codhusband,” Lizzie replied with a sly grin. Jimmy buried his face in his hands, trying to hide how bright red he was.

“Stop iiiit,” he whined. Lizzie only laughed, but threw an arm around his shoulders to give a small hug in apology. Joel reached around Lizzie to pat Jimmy’s back, and despite the teasing he had endured from them, Jimmy felt pleasantly warm and comforted all the same. Although to be fair, Joel and Lizzie always playfully teased him. But it would often end like this, the three of them nestled close together on the edge of the dock, watching the sun set over the water.

Taglists below! Ask to be added or removed!!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

AIAHS Taglist: @anty-kreatywna @devilwoodkitty18 @riobug

#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #katherine elizabeth #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #fwhip #mythicalsausage #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #pixlriffs #flower husbands #seablings #empires smp fic #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

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winchesterfanatic1967 · 3 years

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Seizures

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 947

Warnings: None

Request for Anonmyous- Hi! Could you write something about the reader getting a seizure when you are in the bunker? It turns out to be nothing too serious but still Dean (her boyfriend) wants to take all possible procautions to make sure he is there when it happens again 🙂

You and the Winchester brothers decided to take a little bit of time off from hunting. You’ve been at it non stop since the darkness and the British Men of Letters. It put all of you under a lot of stress, and you didn’t need to be stressed out.

You were an epileptic. You have been since you were a kid. You had fallen and hit your head at the playground and not too much longer after that is when you had your first seizure. The doctors put you on medication but there was no cure.

Stress was the most common factor for your seizures. Every time you were under any kind of stress you would have an episode. Lately when you’ve had them you have been alone. Dean, your boyfriend wasn’t even aware that you had it.

It’s not like it was a secret or anything, you just didn’t find it important enough to tell. You’ve been dealing with it since you were a kid and you were on medicine. It wasn’t life or death and you could control it.

You and Dean have been together for quite some time now. You were a solo hunter until you bumped into the Winchesters and they happened to be working the same case as you. You decided to team up together and you were such a good team they invited you to stay.

You and Sam had similar qualities which makes the two of you good friends. You both loved research, and keeping your bodies fit and healthy. But you connected with Dean on an emotional level. You are alike in most ways. You don’t like to talk about your feelings, and you keep everything buried until one day you just self implode.

Since you both didn’t like to share and care, you decided to only do it with each other since you understood what the other was saying in so little words. It turned into a passionate kiss, and then some. You admitted your feelings for one another, and became a couple.

It definitely wasn’t easy. You wanted to strangle him most of the time. He knew how to drive you crazy and push your buttons. But you knew him like the back of your hand and knew how to drive him crazy as well. Despite everything, you were in love with each other and you were each other's person.

One night while washing dishes after dinner, you felt the familiar signs of a seizure coming. You cursed under your breath. Not here, not now, not in front of the boys. You knew they would make a big deal and try to call Cas or bring you to a hospital.

There was no stopping it. You were fighting consciousness, and then you were just staring into space.

“Sweetheart? You okay?” Dean asked you from the table but you didn’t answer him. All of a sudden, you collapsed to the ground and began to seize. Both of the brothers jumped up from their chairs, and ran over to you.

“Y/N! Oh my god are you alright!? Talk to me!” Dean shouted but you couldn’t speak. He hoisted you up in his arms to carry you to the car, but after another minute your body began to slow down.

“I’m okay.” You say after calming down.

“Like hell you are!”

“De, I promise I’m ok. That wasn’t the first time that’s happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I have epilepsy. It’s a condition where I have seizures. When I was a kid I fell and hit my head at the playground and ever since I’ve gotten seizures. I’m on medication for it and most of the time I can control it. I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah there’s no cure, but it can be controlled.” Sam reassured Dean before leaving the two of you alone for some privacy.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I’m sorry, it was never a secret I guess it just never came up.”

“Does it happen often?”

“Only when I’m really stressed out. Other than that I live normally.”

“Yeah, I guess our lives are stressful. Between Amarra and The dick men of letters it hasn’t been exactly easy lately.”

“Yeah I know. But i’ll be ok.”

“Well you definitely scared me sweetheart. I didn’t like seeing you like that. I felt so helpless like there was nothing I could do. We have to keep you out of really stressful situations. I know that isn’t exactly easy with our lives. But we have to at least try. I also need to always be with you. What if you’re alone when that happens again and it gets worse or something?”

“It’s going to happen again De. Sometimes it just happens.”

“I know.” He says softly. “But whenever we go on hunts and for some reason you don’t want to be on this one or you want a break please just come with us. You can stay in the motel or something. I don’t want you to be home by yourself anymore.”

“I don’t need a babysitter Dean. I've lived through this my entire life.”

“I’m not saying you need one. I just want to be here for you.”

“I know you’re trying to protect me and I love you for that. But I'm on medication, and it controls it most of the time. It doesn’t happen every day. I think for right now my main focus is to be in as little stressful situations as possible. Can we make an agreement on that?”

“Yeah. We can do that.”

“I love you Dean. I really do.”

“I love you too sweetheart. You’ll never understand how much.”

#dean winchester #Dean x reader #dean fluff #dean imagine #supernatural #epilepsy #fluff #dean angst #dean winchester angst #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fluff #dean x reader fluff #dean x you #dean x reader imagine #dean x female!reader #Jensen Ackles

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flutteringdreams-matw · 3 years

Text

The C.A.T. (Road to Normal 13)

Summary: “What if season 3 happened… but Danny’s parents knew his secret.” These are the small moments througout a few of the episodes.

Set between entries Boxed Up Fury and Frightmare, prequel to Out of Time. Makes mentions of events from Escape from Fear Island but still standalone.

---

…Danny’s back slammed onto the ground hard, looking up in surprised as Dan’s duplicates surrounded him…

…They were fighting now, parrying blows…. a scream… or was that his scream? The pain was getting almost unbearable. It was almost as if his core was imploding…

“You’re time is up Danny,” he drawled. “It’s been up for ten years.”

…He tried fighting back, but they overpowered him easily, throwing him into a lamp post. Muffled screams found his ears as he fought to stay conscious. He needed to keep going. He pushed himself up, glaring up at his future self…

…"Look at you," Dan jeered. "You're a pathetic excuse for a ghost and a human. How would our family like it if they knew you abandoned them to fight against a ghost? To try and 'save them' - Ha! They think you're a freak; why should you care if they die? Because you're human? You think anyone cares about you? They're scared of you, no matter what they say or what you do. Why should you even care if they die?"…

…“What makes you think you can change my past?”…

…The wails collided, bouncing off each other as they were locked in combat. He felt himself fading but there was no way of knowing for sure…

…“I promised my family,” he felt himself say…

…Dan laughed, red eyes shining brightly. “What family?”…

A shout escaped Danny’s throat as he bolted upright in bed. He gasped for breath, wide-eyed as he looked down at his shaking hands. He winced, core energy buzzing deep within his core. Just a dream.

“Danny?”

He flinched heavily as Jazz entered his room. Sighing, he unravelled himself from the blanket and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He didn’t acknowledge his sister as she sat down beside him. They sat in the silence, Danny’s hands shaking still.

“You still have an hour before your alarm,” Jazz told him quietly after a few minutes. “Do you… want to tell me about it?”

Danny exhaled loudly, looking toward the calendar on his desk. “It’s been a year,” he said softly.

“What?”

He finally turned to his sister, feeling older than he was. “Jazz, I know Lancer asked you do the assembly again.”

Jazz’s eyes widened in horror, then softened. “Danny, I thought you -“

“I’m not,” Danny interrupted. “I’m not afraid of him anymore, and I haven’t been getting these nightmares often.” Blue met teal as he frowned. “I need to tell Mom and Dad. About… about what happened.”

Jazz stared at him searchingly, studying him for anything he may let slip. “Are you sure?” she asked tentatively. “This is a big step - if you’re not ready you should wait. At least until you have breakfast.”

Danny shook his head. “It’s been months Jazz. They weren’t ready before, but with the truce I think they can handle it.” He broke away from her gaze, starting to get dressed.

“But can you handle it?” Jazz countered.

He stopped midstride, shirt in his hand at Jazz’s question. The last time he told someone this story he broke down and then had to fight off his fear of his future self. Could he do it? He didn’t look behind him, pulling the shirt over his head and continued across the room.

“Danny, I’m serious,” Jazz said worriedly. She caught up to him and a put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off. “You’re right that Mom and Dad need to know about Dan but you don’t need to force this. They’ve been patient - uncharacteristically so. You control the narrative here; you’re the one that decides when you tell them what.”

“And I want to tell them now,” he replied, a slight bite in his tone.

Jazz bit her lip, following her brother out of his room. “Why today?” she pressed.

Danny growled. “Jazz,” he warned.

“Don’t get testy, I’m just curious.”

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, their parents’ voices became louder. Danny made way to the kitchen, but Jazz ran in front of him and grabbed his hands.

“What are you -“

“Danny,” Jazz said forcefully. “Your hands are still shaking.”

Blue eyes grew wide, looking down at their joined hands; Jazz was right. Danny’s eyes hardened, focusing on his hands to will them to stop. “I -“

“Danny.” Jazz’s eyes narrowed, her older sister instincts flaring into overdrive. “I’m worried about you - just tell me. Why tell Mom and Dad today? Right now?”

He looked up, holding her gaze for a few tense moments before he sighed deeply. “Jazz, it’s been a year. You know where I was a year ago this morning? I was stuck in the future knowing that he was trying to kill you all.” Danny shuddered slightly. “I couldn’t tell anyone afterwards because I didn’t want to deal with it. Then Fear happened, then Mom and Dad found out… they’re the only ones who don’t know Jazz. And they should - they should know what I’m capable of.”

Jazz’s eyes widened. “You’re trying to prepare them if you …”

Danny sighed tiredly, cutting her off. “I just… I need them to know Jazz. You’re headed to college next year - if I have nightmares or if I want to talk to talk to them about this, I don’t want it to be for the first time. I need to know if they can accept this.” He looked up at her imploringly. “I want to move past this - the only way is for me to start now.”

“Okay.” Jazz gave him a soft bittersweet smile. “You’re growing up.”

Danny pulled away with a slight scowl. “Don’t remind me.”

“I thought I heard your voices!”

Both teens jumped. They turned as their mother poked her head out of the kitchen, surveying the two quickly before frowning. “What’s wrong?”

Jazz glanced at her brother before nodding at him. “Danny had a nightmare,” she replied. “Is Dad in the lab?” Maddie’s frown deepened, nodding as Jazz walked past. “I’ll go grab him.”

“Thanks Jazz.”

“Danny?” Maddie asked confused. The boy’s eyes darkened slightly, looking more haunted than she had seen him in a long time. She closed the gap between them, giving him a small hug. She knelt down, looking up into his troubled face worriedly. “Want to tell me about your dream.”

Danny shook his head. “I want to tell you what caused it.”

Maddie stiffened, looking at her son with pressed lips. They held each other’s gaze for a few moments before Maddie nodded. “I’ll make the coffee,” she told him gently.

He nodded, walking to the table wordlessly. As his family gathered, he felt the dream flutter back into his mind, along with memories of his fight with Dan and his events on Fear Island.

“Danny?”

He blinked, the memories disappearing as he looked at the worried faces of his family. He swallowed heavily, shaking hands finally turning steady as they curled around the coffee mug in front of him. Here goes.

“It started with the C.A.T. …”

:-=-:

Clockwork watched as the Fenton family discussed alternate futures with a frown. There was something different about Danny’s dream; something that made time falter so violently that the Time Master nearly fell out of the air. The looming paradox ahead caused more pathways to dwindle; it was getting closer.

He raised his staff in the air, waving it across the time glass with care. “Nocturn,” he called. “I have a favour to ask.”

He needed to know - the future of time was at stake… as was Danny’s life.

Links to previous:Eye for an Eye Infinite Realms Girls Night Out Torrent of Terror Forever Phantom Urban Jungle Livin' Large Boxed Up Fury Frightmare Claw of the Wild D-Stabilized Kingdom Come Ectostorm Series

Suggestions welcome! Just put them in my asks and I'll get to them when I can :)

#danny phantom #Fenton Family #the road to normal #suggestions welcome #ectostormseries #more oneshot than drabble #hurt/comfort #slight angst #past angst #sibling comfort #don't worry his family will give him lots of hugs #even if we don't see it here

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godzillagirl-14 · 3 years

Text

Wish Upon an Idol (Ch. 4)

Chapter 4

Pairing: ot7 x reader

Summary: The Bangtan boys have the ability to grant wishes (unbeknownst to you, the brand new addition to their friend group) So when you jokingly wish you had superpowers to “help the world in a way you knew how” what happens when wake up the next day with extraordinary abilities?

Warnings: Drama, angst, a lot of action, smut, and a bad attempt at being humorous.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst - anxiety attacks, reader is implied to be bisexual, crying, self doubt, reader is very frustrated- steamy make out session ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Word Count: 4,945

Taglist: @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @snowythellama @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore (If you want to be tagged just let me know) :)

Hope you enjoy!

You were angry.

So so fucking angry as you stormed down the street. Your body temperature was skyrocketing and you felt something animalistic deep down in your core that made you want to turn on your heel and tear your boss apart.

No. That’s not what these powers are for.

Nodding along with your thoughts you tried to calm yourself, to will away the sparks at your fingertips, and to slow down the erratic beating of your heart. You were aware that many people had watched you break Jaehyun’s nose, watched you storm out of the cafe with you creative choice of words.

Scrub the leeches out of the devil’s asshole. You gave yourself some props, you got your point across that you would never want to be with someone who constantly disrespects your boundaries, even after you had told them to stop. Your heart was already taken anyway.

What would the boys think? How would they react?

You wondered what the boys would have done if they had witnessed you throwing that ferocious jab at your boss. Would they be proud that you finally stood up for yourself? Would they be disappointed? Would they regret giving you powers in the first place?

Your heart dropped at the thought. Maybe your temper was too short for these powers. One wrong move and you could ruin someone’s life. Letting out a frustrated huff, you turned into a nearby alleyway. Your frustration and anger were building, leaving you feeling like a walking furnace. Leaning against a brick wall, you closed your eyes and thought of ways to cool yourself down.

Icebergs, Antarctica, glaciers, ice cold water... Truth be told, you just wanted to find the nearest lake and plunge into it. That would help you clear your thoughts and help your get back to your neutral state.

Pressing your cheek up against the cool surface of the building, you almost moaned out loud at the relieving sensation. Just a few more moments and you can walk home with a semi-clear head.

“Well, isn’t this a pretty sight,” Ah shit. “What’s a pretty little thing doing out so late by herself?” un-fucking-believable. Rolling your eyes you turned your gaze to the voice at hand, sizing him up, doing very little to hide your agitation.

“It’s 4:30 in the afternoon,” His eyebrows shot to his hairline at your snappy remark before he laughed coolly and you wanted nothing more than to swipe that smirk clean off his face. He reminded you of Jaehyun, just from his body language. It made you heat up all over again.

“No need for hostilities,” he responded, slyly. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright. I was worried.” he placed him hand over his heart in an attempt to make him look more genuine, but you could see right through him.

This guy’s bullshit smells worse than Jungkook’s sweaty gym socks.

“Oh, I’m sure you were,” you rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the wall. “I appreciate the kind gesture, but if you could be so kind as to leaving me alone, that’d be fabulous.” just as you were about to walk out of the alley and continue your path home, a hand grabbing your arm stopped you.

“Hey, wait a second!”

You felt that if you clenched your teeth any harder, your jaw would break.

“Let go of my arm.” It was taking everything in you to not rip this stranger a new one. You were completely on edge, frustrated to no end, and wanting nothing more than to go home and neutralize your nerves. It was rather obvious that your powers were based off your emotions, so now it was important to make sure you weren’t feeling too much negativity to cause serious damage.

The stranger didn’t listen and if you weren’t overheating before, you definitely were now. Your face felt extremely flushed and uncomfortable. Your ears were ringing like a hot tea kettle and your heart was pounding just enough for the constant thump to hurt and hinder your breathing in the slightest. You felt the sweat on the back of your neck slowly trickle down and settle at the small of your back and your hands felt just as clammy. Too focused on not maiming this annoying stranger, you didn’t even realize he was still talking until you forced yourself to stop paying attention to your body in hopes that would distract you long enough to get away.

“Well, let me at least get your numb-”

“No.”

He blinked at you, frowning and you leveled his gaze with yours, hoping the pupils weren’t engulfed in glowing white. “Let. Go.” your words were deadly calm, despite your mind screaming at you to just grab him and toss him into oncoming traffic. No need to get too violent.

Things were getting too dangerous now as you felt the palms of your hands start to burn and you looked, unclenching your fist to reveal red palms and small sparks dancing along the lines of your fingers.

The jerk continued to stare at you before his frown turned to a scowl and his grip on your arm tightened to the point it kind of hurt. The feeling of anger and fear quickly unlocked your fight or flight instinct and you were soon swinging your hand up to smack him across the face. Short and simple to allow you time to get away, or so you thought.

What you didn’t expect was for him to catch your wrist and twist it, rendering you unable to use your hands and for your heart rate to kick up like it just took eight shots of pure caffeine. Natural instinct along with your powers kicked in like no tomorrow, and soon you found yourself kneeing the guy in the groin a little too hard, effectively making him release one of your hands. Not taking into account of how hot your palms were, you brought butt of your palm up and into his chin, knocking him off his feet and releasing your other hand.

His cry of pain would have been satisfying had you not been freaking out so badly, seeing the blistering red mark on his chin and neck. You had burned him.

Bringing your palm up to your cheek, you hissed at how hot your hand was, trying and failing to calm your breathing as you turned and hauled ass out of the alley, knocking into some people as you went. Your mind was working overtime, making sure to not use too much of your enhanced speed, yelling at you to use more of your agility so you wouldn’t bulldoze anyone else down, and making sure to not think too much in fear of triggering your elemental powers.

This was all just too much. You could hear every car horn, every heartbeat of the people you passed, vision blurring and focusing on all the wrong things, ears ringing, hands burning. Too much. Too much. Too much.

It’s a wonder how you managed to make it to your door in one physical piece while your mind felt like it was going to implode on itself.

~~~

Taking the door off its hinges would have been impressive to Seokjin, had he not seen the state you were in as you walked through the threshold. There you stood, the disconnected door in your hand, your chest heaving up and down like you had just run a marathon, and sweat dripping down your temple and onto your neck. Your eyes looked cloudy, unable to focus on anything and if Jin had looked closer, he would have saw the rapid movement of your pupils shrinking and dilating in a desperate attempt to lock on something without your vision blurring seconds later.

“. . . (Y/n)?” Standing from his spot on the couch, he stepped into your line of sight and your heart began to pound even louder in your ears as you saw him getting closer.

His lips were moving but you couldn’t hear a single word. The sound of your erratic heart beat was driving you insane. Everything was too loud, too hot and Jin was suddenly way too close to you, reaching out to try and grab your hand that was most certainly hot enough to burn him. “No!” you snatched your hand away, cradling it to your chest. Jin held his hands up in surrender, moving slowly so as not to startle you too much.

“Give me your hand,” he stated, softly making sure to not extend his hand too fast. He looked on patiently as he watched you frantically shake your head. “No, I-I’ll burn you. I can’t- I just- I don’t-” Moving away from him you began pacing back in forth, rubbing at your face as if the skin agitated you.

“God, everything is too hot!” you screamed, before your clothes abruptly burst into flames. Seokjin screeched, jumping back so as not to get burned, staring in disbelief as you just . . . stood there as the fire ate away at your clothes, until there was nothing left, leaving you as naked as the day you were born. You were scared, so scared to the point that you didn’t care about the fact that you were standing stark naked in front of Jin, or the fact that anyone in the hallway could literally walk past and see you as well.

Looking up, Jin saw the way your lip trembled, saw the way tears formed at the brim of your eyes, saw the way your hands shook. The shaky breath that was exhaled from your lips made his heart break, watching as the first tear streaked down your cheek, followed by another and then another until you crumbled down on your knees, your face buried into your hands, sobs wracking your entire body.

Jin watched on, shocked into silence by the sudden outburst before his face softened into a look of sympathy. He cautiously made his way over to you with the same carefulness you would give to a frightened deer. He lowered himself down until he was on his knees in front of you, regarding the way your shoulders shook and how you were trying and failing to even out your breaths. Lifting his hand up, he intended to grab your wrist, but because of your enhanced senses, you were able to flinch away from him. You were still too hot.

Softly calling out your name was met with no reaction, but he knew you heard him. You didn’t want to look at him. You were scared and ashamed, the events of today felt like they spanned an entire week. You were so tired. So when Jin called out to you again, you peeled your hands away from your face and was struck with the sheer ethereal beauty that was Kim Seokjin. You were awestruck.

Going for a different approach, he simply held his hand out to you, giving you the choice of whether you would take his hand or not. You stared at his hand as if it were some sort of foreign object before looking back up at his face and shaking your head. “No,” you whispered, fresh tears streaking down the (s/c) skin of your cheeks. “I’ll burn you.”

“No, you won’t.” Was his delicate reply. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and comfort the tears away. Whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you were finally able to feel okay again. But he knew that if he did that right now, things would only erupt into chaos. Baby steps.

“I trust you, (Y/n).”

Looking back up at his face, studying his features, focusing on him. Only him. He was there for you and your heart began to beat faster. Taking a deep breath, you looked back at his awaiting hand, slowly extending yours. Pulling back when you felt his skin against yours, only to realize he hadn’t flinched away from you. You knew your skin was hot, probably even unbearably hot, but he didn’t show any signs of discomfort other than a slight clenching of his jaw.

After he helped you stand up, he still held onto your hand as he led you into the bathroom, gently guiding you into the bathtub before sitting down behind you. Had you been more clear in the head, you would have asked him why he was still in his clothes.

Leaning forward, he turned the water to cold, watching as it pooled around you both, looking on in disbelief as the water immediately began to evaporate as soon as it hit your skin. He then turned on the shower head, feeling the cold water cascade over the both of you, hearing you sigh in relief and watching your tensed body finally relaxing. You leaned back into his touch as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, rubbing the skin in soothing circles. Reaching up, you grabbed his hands, squeezing them gratefully and relaxing into his chest.

You stayed like that for a while; in complete silence with cold water flowing down from the tops of your head to the tips of your toes. Rubbing at each others knuckles, as a way to acknowledge one another without having to actually say anything. You’ve never been this intimate with him or either of the boys before, letting him cuddle in the bathtub with you, let alone him seeing you naked. Sure there would be relaxing sessions on the couch while watching a movie, but for it to get this far, was truly mind boggling. You were much more comfortable around other women, it seemed much more natural to be intimate around them, granted this did feel nice and it was helping you calm your nerves that just moments before made you take out an entire door. These past few days have been absolutely insane.

You remembered what the boys had said; if you didn’t want the powers and responsibility anymore, all you had to do was wish them away. But even as you think about the events that occurred today, and the similar events that might occur in the future, you realize that you still wouldn’t give up these powers. What kind of impression would you have of yourself if you just gave up just because some days are harder than most. You wouldn’t be able to look at yourself if you gave up so easily. You had to keep fighting.

You both stayed in the tub until you had finally cooled down and started shivering from the cold water. Stepping out of the tub, you turned to Jin, only to see his clothes completely soaked. You looked at him curiously but he only smiled at you before beginning to peel his shirt off.

Eyes, widening and face reheating, you tried your hardest to keep your eyes trained on his face and damn near popped a blood vessel when he looked at you and smirked. He even had the audacity to wink at you. Good to know his playful attitude was intact. Huffing out a breath, you crossed your arms over yourself to try and keep yourself warm. The thought of trying to use your powers to regulate your body heat sounded absolutely atrocious with how you were so mentally tired, so you opted for the old fashioned way. You turned to reach for a towel hanging on the rack just as Jin pulled his pants down, your heart rate picking up to match the speed of the flash. You felt another shiver run down your spine when you finally wrapped the towel around your body, a reminder that you were in fact freezing your ass off and needed to be put in some warm clothes immediately.

You felt like you were going to get whiplash with the way your body was trying to get used to your powers. First you were so angry to the point you burned your clothes off, and now, you were freezing to the point where you were desperate to have clothes back on. You grabbed another towel and turned back around to hand it to Jin, who had been staring at you intently, noticing the way your body reacted to the cool air. After grabbing the towel and wrapping it around his hips, he gently grabbed your hand and led you to his room. You were a little confused at first, wondering why he wasn’t leading you to your room so you could get dressed, but then realized that he might be letting you use his hoodie. You almost started skipping behind him in excitement as out of all the boys’ hoodies to steal, you loved stealing his.

There was something about Jin’s hoodies that were just extra cozy. If he had noticed your change in demeanor, he didn’t comment on it as he opened his door to his room and let you in first. Walking in, you immediately sat yourself down on his bed, hugging the towel close around your chest to keep it from falling and awkwardly crossing your ankles in an attempt to appear more casual. You dropped one of your hands to run it along his comforter. It felt warm and soft and it caused goosebumps to travel along your arms and legs due to the texture against your palm. As your hand glided back and forth against the blanket, you wondered how you were going to explain this entire situation to Jin and the rest of the boys without them thinking that giving you these powers was a mistake.

Hey guys, I quit my job by breaking my boss’ nose because he wouldn’t stop groping me and while I was walking home, some creep tried to hit on me and I ended up burning him after he tried to grab me. Oh and also, we need to look into getting a new door because I accidentally hulked out on it trying to get into the apartment, and I spontaneously combusted because I was in the middle of a panic attack and Jin saw me naked! :D

Yeah that conversation is going to be... quite interesting. You internally cringed, wondering how you were going to muster up enough energy to even start that conversation.

Too lost in thought about the entire ordeal, you didn’t notice Jin rummaging through his drawers until he had set out a hoodie and pair of boxer briefs in front of you. The hoodie looked like it could swallow Jin whole, so you immediately knew that you would be swimming in the article of clothing before you even unfolded it. You were grateful for the size though because as soon as you had put it on, you were immediately engulfed in warmth and you exhaled as your cold body was finally able to start relaxing.

Jin smiled at you as you attempted and failed to get rid of the sweater paws that were forming around your hands and led you back out to the living room. By now, the sun was close to setting and the door to the hallway was still very much laying on the floor instead of being on it’s hinges. You groaned as you sat down on the couch, Jin sitting down next to you and setting your legs on his lap.

After a few beats of silence with Jin massaging the muscles of your calves and you fiddling with the hem of the hoodie, you finally looked up to see him looking at you. “How are you feeling?” he asked, searching your face for any distress. You opened your mouth out of instinct, ready to deliver your answer as if you were on autopilot.

“I feel fine.”

He raised his eyebrow at you, telling you that he didn’t believe you for a second. “Come on, (Y/n), we know you better than anyone. You can’t lie to us. You can’t lie to me.” Gently grabbing your chin and making him look at you made you puff out a breath. Rolling your eyes, you moved away from his hand and leaned back against the couch.

“I don’t- I mean, I don’t really know where to start,” you shrugged your shoulders, trying to rack your brain for the right words to say. “I broke my boss’s nose because he kept trying to advance on me even after I said I wasn’t interested. He kept saying that my “no” was secretly a “yes”. He wanted the chase, it was all like some fucking game for him. I told him no again, and when he grabbed my arm, I punched him in the face.”

Jin nodded, listening intently and waiting for you to continue. You wanted to leave it at that, but you knew he wouldn’t let up until you had gotten everything off your chest. “I walked out after we had yelled at each other. I had some pretty.... unique parting words for him, but then I was walking home and I was just so angry and everything was suddenly heating up and going in and out of focus. So I stepped aside to try and calm myself down, but then this guy tried to hit on me. He was so creepy, and he had grabbed me, but I had burned his face. I just-” you didn’t realize how you were still worked up about the situation as you choked on your words.

“I was just so scared that I would hurt someone innocent and I was so angry I couldn’t even see straight which made me even more scared and I just wanted to get home but then that happened,” you gestured towards the broken door and sniffled, not realizing you had started crying again. Luckily your body seemed too exhausted to overheat and you were grateful when Jin pulled you into his lap and held you close.

Burying your face into his neck, you let out the tears you had been holding back all day, finally being able to let your body sag after all the tension was released. Jin soothingly rubbed your back, pulling you to face him after you had finished letting everything out, and wiping away at the tears that slid down your cheek. Your face and eyes probably looked puffy from all the crying and you felt like you looked crazy, but it had only made Jin fall in love with you more, letting him see you be so vulnerable and being able to comfort you.

He kept his hand on your cheek and watched as you leaned into his touch closing your eyes and sighing. When you were able to stabilize your breathing, you finally opened your eyes and were once again struck by the pure beauty that was Kim Seokjin.

“You truly are beautiful, Seokjin,”

You could have cringed at the way your voice whispered those words, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to nitpick the way you sounded right now. You felt your ears begin to burn after he had remained silent, too lost in your self doubt to see how red his ears and cheeks were turning. You went to move off of his lap, intent on going to your room to lay down, but were stopped when you felt his hand on your cheek become firm to keep you in place. He took a second to look at you, from you (h/l (h/c) hair, to the way you hiccupped trying to recover from crying so much, to the redness that surrounded your (e/c) eyes to the way left over tear streaks smeared on you (s/c) skin. He felt like he had spent thousands of years with you as well.

“I know,”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter even if you wanted to. Your body shook with the force of your laugh. Burying your face in his neck again, you let his laugh fill your ears while you felt his hands massaging your back and leg. You stayed like that for a while, the only noise filling the room being your occasional sniffle and the little hitch in the shakiness of your breath from still trying to recover from your crying session. You still felt upset and you had no doubt that one small thing could possibly trigger another crying session, but right now, you were content with keeping your thoughts empty and just listening to the sound of Jin’s heart beating clearly in your ears.

You were close to dozing off in his lap when he finally spoke up, making you tune out of your little bubble.

“For what it’s worth, you are the most beautiful girl I’ve laid my eyes on,” You couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not, so you sat up to look at his face again. After examining his face, you still couldn’t tell if he was being serious, so you snorted and playfully smacked his chest. “Yeah right,” you rolled your eyes. “Don’t try to pull that on me after you’ve been alive for over a thousand years, mister.”

You giggled a little and he smiled at you, cupping your cheek again, forcing you to look at his face and your giggling to fade. “There is no one who is as incredible as you, (Y/n). You are truly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever encountered.”

You were at a complete loss for words, gaping at him. You felt your ears heat up, wondering if the pounding you heard was his heart or yours. Noticing him staring at you intently, you also noticed his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips constantly but you felt stuck. You were way too scared to just lean forward and connect your lips, even though you’ve always dreamed about what those pillows for lips would feel like against your own. You got lost in thought once again thinking about how unfair it was for this man to have such luscious lips, it should be a crime.

Too far gone in your own thoughts, you barely noticed Jin leaning close to you, up until his nose brushed yours and he stopped. Both of your eyes were closed, yours being closed out of fear that you might spontaneously combust, his being closed in fear that this might be a dream. You’ve dreamed about this moment for so long, wondering if he was waiting for you to make the call of whether you’re going to press your lips against his or pull away.

Releasing one shaky breath, you decided to throw caution to the wind and lean forward. Your lips brushed against each other for no more than a second, pulling away for a moment and searching his face, only to find him staring at you as if you were one of the seven wonders of the world. You took that as a sign to lean back in, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips more firmly onto his. The feeling of his lips against yours could easily be something to become addicted to, as you felt his hands trail down your back, causing you to shiver while they settled on your hips.

You wanted to deepen the kiss, so you opened your mouth and swiped your tongue on his bottom lip. That must have triggered something in him, because he trailed his hands down from your hips to grip your ass and squeeze, which caused you to yelp, and for him to push his tongue deeper into your mouth.

Out of all the ways you had thought this day would end, french kissing one of the men you’ve been in love with for months definitely did not cross your mind. But you couldn’t really complain when Jin shifted his hips up and you got a very.... detailed feel of him. The whimper that left your lips could have brought any man down to his knees, and Jin contemplated on whether he should start moving your hips against his or if that might overwhelm you too much.

Your body had started moving on its own accord as you began moving your hips against his, feeling his groan against your mouth. You kept moving your hips, getting worked up at the feeling of him against you and the sounds leaving his mouth, until it had all began to feel like a little too much and the clothes you were wearing began to feel too stuffy. So, against your better judgment, you began to slow your hips down, pressing one more tender kiss against his lips before pulling away.

He searched your face for any sign of discomfort and when you had clarified that it was just you getting a little too excited, he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “It’s okay,” he gently reassured you when you went to bury your face in his neck again. It was beginning to become a favorite spot of yours. “We go at your pace, no matter how fast or slow that might be.”

You didn’t think you could love this man any more, and yet here you were constantly being proven wrong. It didn’t take long for you to finally doze off, with the events that happened, you were surprised you hadn’t just collapsed as soon as you got home. You were lulled to sleep by Jin’s comforting hand rubbing your back, his lips on your forehead and his heart beat in your ears.

He was finally able to relax his tensed body when he felt your body release all the tension that had built up, closing his eyes and almost dozing off himself, until he heard footsteps walking toward the apartment.

“What happened to the door?!”

A/N

Alright, so this chapter is very long overdue. I’m pretty sure I started this story back when my senior year of highschool began and now I just recently finished my freshman year of college. I either couldn’t find the time or motivation to try and finish the chapter but I’m glad I finally did. That being said, I can’t be too sure when the next chapter is going to be, but I hope you stick around nonetheless!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please let me know what you think! your feedback is always welcomed!

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rodeoxqueen · 3 years

Text

DEVIL MAY GRIND

(I)- Can You Touch This?

Dante/ AMAB! Reader

Series Summary: From a surprise rendezvous to a male strip club on your birthday to a private dance, you end up seeing eye-to-eye rather than eye-to-groin with a cowboy stripper named Dante Sparda.

Work Summary: A shy and short homebody celebrating your birthday with friends, you end up somewhere you’d never expect: a male strip club. And what you’d also never expect is a certain red-devil/cowboy stripper to lay his special treatment on you.

Tags/Warnings:18+, AMAB! Reader, Stripper!AU, Minors Do Not Try It, Wholesome Filth

Rodeo’s Two-Pieces: And after months, Rodeo presents the male version of this soon-to-be filth. *tilts cowboy hat over eyes and leans in seat*

You were never one for large crowds, alcohol, loud music, and nudity. So what a mess you were in, your friends dragging you into a strip club.

It wasn’t your fault, they promised you were all going for a quiet dinner at your favorite restaurant. No loud noises, no crowds, and especially, you didn’t even know why you had to specify, no naked guys! That’s what happened at first. You went and blew out your candles on your cake at a nice place, but then things got weird. Your friends had got you thoughtful gifts, except one of them who promised to give it to you after another “surprise.”

They practically herded you to their car, blindfolding and ear-muffing you while giggling. After driving in some unfamiliar directions, you were pulled into a strange building.

So when you couldn’t hear your thoughts due to the overbearing bass in the room you were in, you realized you should’ve known better. The blindfold and earmuffs were taken off and you opened your eyes to a neon-lit room with the most hard-cut abs right in your face.

“A strip club?! W-why would you think I’d want to go to a strip club?”

“Okay, first of all (Y/N). It’s a male strip club. Second, come on! I know you want to touch some diamond abs!” One of your friends exclaimed as they threw bills at one very tan and very oiled-up man named Diego. The box from before landed on your lap, and you unwrapped it to find a giant stack of dollar bills.

“Now stuff them bills down some hottie’s pants!”

The orange thong-wearing male with the most defined quads you had ever glanced at winked at your friend and opted to dance on someone else. Clutching your drink, you swallowed thickly as other males who went to the gym every other hour thrust their hips proactively at you.

Your friends had called ahead and bought the lot of you a table to the stage, much to your chagrin.

Luckily, your ability to disappear in a room, with your meek personality and small stature, came in handy in these situations. The tall and buff guys your friends screamed over seemed to prefer the company of the more extroverted and thirsty. While other tables farther from the stage had easy contact with the not-themed strippers, you were all confronted with the stage floor dancers.

“My god, how many themes do these guys dress in?” You squeaked as an entertainer dressed like James Bond (minus the clothes except for the bowtie and gun holster) ground on the stage floor.

“Not enough! Now make it rain, (Y/N).” Another friend demanded as she took another shot.

You made a noise as your hand was forcibly placed onto an eight-pack. You quickly threw a wad of bills at the man and ran off to the bar.

“I gotta go!” You panicked, speed-walking to the bar in your favorite pair of dressy sneakers. Stomach quivering, you put a few bills down and asked for a stronger drink. Maybe you could pass out on the table and your friends would feel bad and take you home.

You sighed as you watched your friends have the time of their lives, although they noted your absence.

“First time?” The bartender asked, sliding your fruity drink to you. You fiddled with the napkin. A woman posed in the corner with the logo “Devil May Cry” to the side of her, all lined in neon pink.

“Oh!... Yeah, it is.” You mumbled shyly. You blushed at his blue-eyed stare. Luckily, he wore a collared white shirt so you could look at him without bleeding out of your nose. He was very handsome, with rugged features and slight facial hair. His stark white hair shined even in the dim lighting.

“Ah, could tell. Watched you get dragged in here.” He chuckled.

“I-I was tricked, first of all!” You exclaimed, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“It’s alright. Your next rounds on me if you stay a lil longer.” He winked, wiping a glass. A few other people came and went, requesting all sorts of raunchy-titled drinks. Despite that, he leaned on the table where you sat, making idle conversation.

“I’m Dante.”

“Nice to meet you, Dante. I’m (Y/N).” You impulsively stuck your hand out to shake and stilled at his strong and warm grip.

He whistled.

“Nice name for a nice man. It’s your birthday right?” You nodded.

“What did you wish for?”

“Peace and quiet.” He laughed at that, gesturing to your friends who screamed and clapped at a dark-skinned stripper who ripped off his pants.

“With those friends?” He chuckled.

“They’re a lot more restrained. This is an exception.” You whined.

The conversation grew longer. You learned that Dante worked here with his twin brother Vergil. He loved pizza and strawberry ice cream, along with nice motorcycles. A total manly man, if you asked yourself.

You found a safe space talking to him since you didn’t have to look at nude guys with your back turned.

You were hoping to talk the night away until a similarly white-haired male with a serious glare rounded the corner.

Swiping back a few stray hairs, the esteemed brother Vergil knocked the smile off his twin’s face.

“You fool! Your shift has been over for some time now.” He snapped. Dante rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, this is old douchebag.” You giggled at his comment, quickly stopping when meeting eyes with the frigid twin.

“Have you been speaking ill of me? I will-” Dante threw a towel at his brother’s face before leaving the bartending station. By leaving, he jumped over the counter.

“Hey, (Y/N), nice talking to you. I’ll see you later.” The white-haired man left to the employee’s room.

“Alright-” You muttered. You’d sit, but Vergil’s cold glare prompted you to leave and rejoin your friends.

“Where were you? Chatting up the bartender?”

“Look at you. Being social in a strip club.” They teased.

After a few more dancers, you couldn’t help but miss the blue-eyed bartender with his quips and casual flirtiness.

Suddenly, the music and lights went off. The crowd stirred. Your friend grabbed your arm.

“Oh boy, they’re gonna need a mop after this.”

“Ew!” You cried out. Your friends sang that one horribly sexual song from the radio. Something about parking a truck in a garage and about wet-

A shirtless DJ grabbed the mic.

“And now, for our next entertainer, we have the Legendary Lady Killer. Hold onto your panties and your wedding rings, you’re all in for the ride of your life.”

The lights were turned back on from back to front. On stage, stood a muscular man with a cowboy hat and shawl. His legs were perfectly framed by black leather chaps and boots. You turned as red as his shawl as you could see his formidable bulge from yards across.

His spurs clinked on the floor as people began to cheer at his physique. Your jaw dropped in shock.

White hair.

“Ladies and gents, I got some questions for y’all.” He drawled, lowering his hat.

“Yes! I’m single!” Someone yelled from the back. He chuckled as others screamed with agreement.

“That’s nice ma’am. But really, I got three questions.” He made his way down the stage, his shadow covering your table.

He palmed his chest and abs, showing white chest hairs and slicked-down muscles.

“Can you touch this?” Everyone screamed for yes. He tutted.

“No, no, no.” He waggled his finger. He spun and exposed his lush tush. He was packing it front and back and you blushed while putting your face in your hands.

His hands groped his butt. Even with his giant hands, he still had more ass to spare.

“Can you touch this?” The screams grew louder. He waggled his finger again, wiggling his butt.

“No, no, no.” The crowd awed. He turned back around, a cocky grin on his face.

“Now,” He pointed to the crowd.

His palms groped the leather that concealed his huge package.

“Can you touch this?” Your friend threw a wad of cash at him, hitting him in the nipple. He stood unflinching.

“No, no, no.” He drew out each word.

“These are my laws.” Putting his hands on his hips, he rocked left to right, clicking his spurs.

“But I see a hell of a lot of lawbreakers here tonight.”

He shifted to walk around the chair placed behind him. He sat on it backward, legs spread to place his groin in the spotlight.

“And I don’t see a cop in sight.” He pointed at the DJ.

“Hit it!” Music blaring, he did his number. And boy, was the DJ right to warn you. Dante practically made sweet love to the chair, flipping his head back.

Hips circling and then pistoning the air, sweat trailed down his pecs.

You ended up throwing a few bills, hoping to avoid eye contact. It failed as he slid to his knees to the edge of the stage and crawled off the ledge onto your table. Like a preying tiger, he made his way over to you.

Thank god you had health insurance, your blood pressure was going off the charts.

Your friends lost their heads, throwing bills and screaming like banshees. But he wasn’t interested in them. His eyes preyed after your own, baby blues on an absolute beast.

“Wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy, handsome?” He purred as he traced your jaw. Your skin jumped as you internally imploded. This was was too sensual and people were watching, for goodness sake!

“(Y/N), if you don’t agree I will cancel your Barnes and Noble membership.” Your friend threatened.

“Come on, spare this outlaw some sugar?” You didn’t have a moment to think. Dante threw his hat on your head and carried you onto the table and to the stage.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” You shrieked.

He ran hot. So hot. Your skin burned at contact with him, pressed up against his chest as he stood you in front of the chair he practically humped.

“Take a seat, sir.” You blushed at his sensual persona, not sure where the kind bartender and the suave cowboy started and ended.

Obediently, you turned the chair around and sat with your ankles crossed. Dante tutted in disapproval.

His hands lingered by your legs.

“May I?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, feeling his callused hands on your thighs. He firmly spread your legs and stood over you on the chair.

As if that wasn’t enough, his arm muscles bulged and twitched as he ripped off his leather chaps. He ripped the chaps. There were no zippers or velcro straps. That was all him!

Your face a hair’s width from his abs, he gently took your hands and traced his pecs with them. He growled and winked at you.

Despite the one-in-a-million situation you were in, you shrank at the many peering eyes of the other women and bar patrons. Your anxiety was seen by Dante, who tilted your head up.

“Hey, it’s alright. Just focus on me. If you’re nervous, just give me a purple nurple or something, alright?” You laughed at his idea of a safe word and nodded.

“Okay, Dante.”

And like that, it was like you pulled a trigger. Dante grinded on your form and explored his peak-conditioned skin with your own hands.

You gasped as he led your hands down his front to his leather shorts. You couldn’t stop looking with widened eyes at his crotch. You had read erotica before, describing the male member in the throes of passion, yet this was the first time you had been this close to anything like those erotic novels.

It was obscene! Why did it seem to get larger? How was he allowed to carry that thing around without a license?!

“Hey, eyes up here.” He teased as you snapped your head up.

“O-oh! Sorry.” You whispered. Your blood had rushed to your head and you had grown deaf to your friends’ yells of validation.

“Grab him by the buns!” One of your friends yelled. Dante turned around to make eye contact with her.

With a grin, he slid your hands to the back. What he didn’t expect was you to squeeze.

“Whoa now, kitty.” He purred. You gave a watery smile.

Suddenly, a water bottle was thrown at his head. With lightning reflexes, he caught it after it bounced off of him.

“Hey! Stage times’ over, you fucking show pony.” A short-haired woman with mismatching eyes called out. Dante scoffed.

“Just givin’ a nice gentleman some lovin’.” He argued.

“No, get off the stage, Dante.”

“Five more minutes?”

“NOW.” He sighed. Getting off of your lap, he kissed your hand that was resting on his thigh. Lord, if you died right now, that’d be fine.

“Glad to have this dance.” He flirted.

“Y-you too.” Taking your hand, he took you for another surprise and swept you off your feet. You squeaked as he handed you to another dancer on the ground. The club-goers cheered as dancers arrived, dressed like businessmen with briefcases.

You were promptly seated, head dizzy from everything that just happened. You watched as he took his leave as if he didn’t just cause you to get feverish from how hot he was. Your friend hugged you.

“Nice work! You were so lucky!” Another friend plucked the hat off your head.

“Ah! He left his hat!” You exclaimed as you took it from her hands.

“A souvenir.”

For the rest of the night, you held onto the hat and traced the red stitching. You never saw Dante for the rest of the night, his brother in charge of the bar service.

Finally, before the last round of dancers, you were tapped on the shoulder. You found yourself staring into much harsher blue eyes.

One of your friends threw money at him, which he growled at.

“I am not an entertainer. Well, not right now.” He explained. He handed you a drink with a napkin on the bottom.

“My buffoon of a brother said to keep the hat. Although, I’m not sure why you would.”

“I-”

“The drink is on the house. Good evening with you all.”

He walked off, and you took your drink. You realized it was the same one you ordered when you got to the bar.

“Hey dude, take a look.” A well-manicured nail pointed to the napkin. You saw in red pen an arrow pointed to the folded corner.

You shakily opened it to reveal a series of numbers and words, along with a card that flitted onto the table.

Tonight was fun, wanna do it again? The card’s for a private dance, just call and ask for Dante Sparda. No crowds, only you and me. No Lady barking up my tree for appreciating beauty either - DS

A little heart with an arrow through its center was scrawled in a corner. You picked up the laminated card and saw it was for a free private dance. Your heart beat out of your chest.

Your friends laughed as you immediately stuck it in your pocket, along with the note. The club closed and you were all ushered out. The night was pitch black when you emerged from the debauchery that was the Devil May Cry strip club.

As your other wasted companions were stuffed into the car, you sat shotgun to the sober and designated driver.

You were silent the car ride home, laying your head against the window. You thought about that white-haired flirt’s remarks and how gentle he was to you.

Waving and embracing your wonderful friends, you left for your apartment with all your gifts. However, the little slips of paper in your pocket weighed the heaviest on your mind.

With your keys in your hand, you climbed up the stairs home.

After closing the door, you slid down the wall and let out a pleased sigh.

“Best birthday ever!” You said to no one in particular.

#amab reader #dante x reader #dante x male reader #devil may grind #devil may cry

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saturnznct · 3 years

Text

going into labour | lhc

➸ request from anon; hi would you write haechan’s reaction to his partner going into labour and there are scared to give birth and refuse to go to the hospital please? <333333

➸ note; hiii thank u so much for ur request <3 i hope you like it, i really struggled to write this for some reason lol

➸ word count; 402 words

➸ dalgun; in the womb lol

nct masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

You were eating when you realised you were fully in labour.

It happened the way everyone described it to you, the feeling building and building, pressure growing in your abdomen and lower back.

Donghyuck doesn’t even seem to notice, absentmindedly chewing on his own food.

‘Hyuck,’ you start tentatively, squeezing the arm of your chair tightly in an attempt to dispel the pain.

‘Mhm?’ He hums, clearly focused on wolfing down his food, which you couldn’t blame him for, he’d been at practice all day. Suddenly another pain rips through you, causing you to loudly whimper in pain this time, immediately grabbing Donghyuck’s attention.

‘Shit,’ he mutters under his breath, his utensils hitting the plate with a clunk as he races to be at your side.

‘What’s the matter? Is it the baby?’

‘Hyuck… I think they’re coming… now.’

‘But they’re early!’

‘I know that,’ you hiss between gritted teeth.

You saw the way Donghyuck’s face filled with panic, eyes widening dramatically, face draining of colour.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Very very sure,’ you reply, voice hoarse and strained, hands gripping the sides, knuckles and fingers draining of colour.

‘I can’t breathe,’ you pant, ‘you need to take me to the hospital.’

It takes time to get down the stairs. You’re holding onto your bannister, one hand gripping it tightly, while the other desperately holds onto Donghyuck’s arm.

Your entire body is screaming, feeling as though it was about to implode on itself.

‘I need to sit down,’ you cry, letting go of the bannister and slowly lowering yourself onto the step.

‘Breathe,’ Donghyuck instructs, and you cry out, struggling to find air to breathe, ‘it’s okay, you’re okay-‘

‘It’s not ok,’ you sob, ‘I can’t do it.’

‘You can,’ he rubs your arm, ‘I believe in you.’

‘I don’t think I can, Hyuck I’m serious… please just hold me for a minute.’

So he holds you on the stairs, rocking you back and forth through it slowly.

‘Remember everything we learned in those classes? You need to breathe, in and out, slowly-‘

‘Hyuck I’m so scared,’ you whisper, ‘what if-‘

‘Please don’t start thinking about all of the what ifs… I know that you can do this. I’ll be beside you the whole time. Every second.’

You whine again, pressing your forehead into his chest.

‘We’re going to be ok,’ he kisses the top of your head gently, ‘it’ll be over soon.’

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thevindicativevordan · 3 years

Note

Any thoughts on Grant Morrison's Action Comics run? Beyond T shirt-and-jeans Superman being great.

That whole run reinvigorated my love of the character.

There have been numerous thoughtpieces about New 52 Superman, how he worked and how he didn't but these two entries really do a great job of summing up why Morrison's take on Superman was great. Morrison laid the foundation for a new generational Superman that DC completely fucked up and ran into the ground. I'll always be bitter about that, even if I had tapped out of reading the New 52 Superman books by the end due to how bad they got. Editorial and their idiotic mandates were what screwed over the potential of this take in my eyes.

Now I get that it wasn't to everyone's taste, but I cannot fathom how anyone could ever claim that Pre-Flashpoint Superman was better. If you liked Byrne's reboot better, your guy already got rebooted after Infinite Crisis. For someone like me who really enjoyed the Johns/Busiek era, that era's potential got spoiled after Johns & Busiek left, with New Krypton imploding and the awful Grounded taking it's place. When you get to the point where the best Superman book is the one starring Lex Luthor, it's time to reassess the franchise and figure out where the hell it went wrong.

Which is exactly what Morrison did. For this new Superman, Morrison mined all the best ideas of every Superman era to really give what I consider the ideal "base" for Superman. They also took pains to address common criticisms about Superman, working to correct his pop culture image. People have been complaining that Superman is "too perfect", "too unrelatable" for a long time, so Morrison addressed that. They gave Superman his balls back, and let him reacquire that Golden Age edge he had originally.

There are a lot of complaints you can make about Morrison's Superman, but I don't see how you could accuse this guy of being "flawless" or "bland". He definitely had a personality that you could describe, love him or hate him. Compassionate, but not a pushover. Clearly holding himself back, but unafraid to occasionally let loose. Flaws that were patently obvious, Clark had a temper here that could get him into trouble. There was a real showcase of anger here, of Superman being furious at the way people were treated by the rich and powerful, then doing something about it that I ate up.

I read this run just as I was coming into my teens and it hit perfectly for where I was in life. Did not want a Superman who would smile and tell me it gets better, I wanted a Superman who looked you in the eye and told you he felt that same anger, and then encouraged you to go out and do something about how you felt. That was what this run delivered in spades, and it expanded what I believed could be done with Superman.

While it totally blew my mind to see Superman acting this way the first time I read Morrison's Action Comics run, in retrospect it really isn't that different from how Superman has acted even under Byrne. One of the few traits I've seen carry across Superman incarnations in the comics is that he has a temper underneath that affable nature. "Don't tug on Superman's cape" as the old song goes. This run simply elevated that to the forefront of the character again, for the better in my eyes given I believe "Wrath" is Superman's Deadly Sin.

In fact, one of the strongest features of this run is that Superman gets actual character development over the course of the run, analogous to what Batman underwent in Morrison's Bat-Epic. While the Bat-Epic was merely Morrison re-canonizing Batman's entire history, and applying a retroactive character development storyline that culminated in Morrison's current Batman work, their Action Comics run had them attempt to craft something similar for Superman from scratch. What that meant was Morrison attempting to draw on the most important traits of every Superman era and incorporate those into this new take. So Superman had the Golden Age temper, compassion for the oppressed, and cockiness. The Silver Age supergenuis, proud scion of Krypton who cherished his Kryptonian nature, member of the Legion of Superheroes, and participant in stories that weren't afraid to get weird. Superman's wrestling with his place in the world, the importance of Clark Kent, and making journalism a key part of the character strike me as all being hallmarks of the Bronze Age. From Post-Crisis we got that Clark views himself as human and loves his adopted parents, considering them as equal to his birth ones.

One of the big frustrations for me with the endless origin stories for Superman, is that so many of them follow a predictable and stale formula where Clark puts on the suit and is essentially ready to go. Doesn't interfere with human affairs, is modest and humble, restrained in usage of his powers, it's like Clark has meta knowledge of what he "should" be, despite that he shouldn't have any foreknowledge of what a "superhero" should look like. He operates the same way at the start as he does in the modern day, and that's really boring to me. This Superman, because of the difference in powers and attitude, operated extremely different from his "present day" incarnation. Dangling Glenmorgan over the edge of a building isn't something a fully powered and mature Superman should do, but it works great to make his early days different and exciting to read about, it makes returning to that era something you can do different storytelling with. This run is the only time where I really cared that Superman is "supposed" to be the first superhero, because figuring out what that means here is a big part of how he develops.

We all know the common complaint that Superman is "too powerful" and that "nothing can hurt him" (funny how Thor never gets hit with those accusations), so Morrison made sure to show that this take on Superman could be beaten even if he could never be defeated. Events conspired to force Clark to use his brains as well as his powers to overcome the challenges in front of him.

Examples include him using his heat vision to fry Lex's equipment and escape the military, using his rocket ship to defeat Brainiac, and rallying the population of Metropolis to banish Vyndktvx. Not to say that Clark never used his brains before to win, but this run was very upfront and in your face about how important Clark's intellect is to triumphing over his foes. Can't take seriously the complaint that Superman is too overpowered when Morrison constantly showcased how even a very powerful Superman could get his shit wrecked by his Rogues.

Another example of Morrison addressing criticisms is Kryptonite. A lot of people poke fun at how convenient it is that pieces of Superman's homeworld follow him all the way to Earth. Isn't that a bit of an asspull? So Morrison made Kryptonite the power source of Superman's rocket, giving it a perfectly natural and believable reason both for it to end up on Earth, and for Lex & the military to get a hold of it since Pa Kent gave the military the rocket. That's still my preferred explanation for how Kryptonite ended up on Earth.

It also provides a better explanation for all the different Kryptonite variants. DC can handwave away the different types as a result of Lex experimenting or the different "forces" on Earth such as magic or the Speed Force or whatever creating the different variants. That to me is much more believable than Kryptonite travelling all across the galaxy yet still ending up on Earth somehow.

There have also been a lot of complaints about Superman's villains, and Morrison diligently set about reworking them. By far one of my favorite aspects of the run, was the villain revamps. Nimrod felt like a clean revamp of Terra-Man, making him into Superman's Kraven the Hunter struck me as a patently obvious route to go, wild no one has followed up on that or used him since. Metallo felt like a good synthesis of Johns take of him as an Anti-Superman weapon, and the sympathetic aspects of Corben's origin that are always there, I liked that Morrison didn't make him a total bastard before his transformation like Johns did. Brainiac got some sympathy added to him in that the collected worlds that were already marked for damnation, thus he was "saving" them in a fashion. Clay Ramses embodied toxicity as a wife-beater even before becoming Kryptonite Man, and I thought his backstory was a great way for Clark to still deal with "real" issues via a manner he could punch. Ramses is still the best take on Kryptonite Man. Vyndktvx felt like the greatest realization of the threat Mr. Mxyzptlk could pose should he decide to get serious since Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?, plus I'm a sucker for stories where superheroes fight the Devil. Drekken and Superdoom took the only interesting aspects of Doomsday (his ability to evolve and that he can kill Superman respectively), and were much more interesting characters.

And oh my God, speaking of Superdoom, that part of Morrison's Action run has aged like fine wine. I don't know if they caught wind of DC's plans for the character, or if they were just prescient, but everything that Superdoom is playing on is still sadly all too present. What Superdoom is as a character is a condemnation of what DC keeps doing with Superman: killing him off or making him evil.

When you realize what Superdoom (demand for a more violent and "realistic" Superman) and Vyn (WB/DC) stand in for, it makes the frustration Morrison is channeling much more palpable. Those two plotlines are all DC can think of to do with the character, returning to those again and again. Endlessly attempting to recapture the high of Batman and Doomsday beating the shit out of Supes in The Dark Knight Returns and Death of Superman. Overcoming these two obstacles is Superman's greatest challenge as conceived by Morrison, because both are out to corrupt and ruin the very idea of him. It's not just a physical death he faces, but a metaphysical one as well. Sadly it's a threat Superman just can't seem to lick in the real world, with more and more takes on "Evil Superman" coming.

Lois and Jimmy are great here, because Morrison actually made the investigative journalism aspect of Superman important. Lois is an active participant in the story, trying to break in to the base where Clark is being held by her father, competing with Clark for stories (I love how Morrison writes the banter between the two of them), and generally being classic Lois. Jimmy though benefitted from being positioned as a peer rather than as a kid in comparison to the two, something I wish the comics had carried forward. It looks like My Adventures With Superman is going with that interpretation at least, so I hope others do as well. Jimmy being Clark's roommate really adds to their bond, and I wish we had gotten more stories with that status quo.

Investigative reporter Clark Kent was so actively used here that it feels jarring reading other Superman runs where they tend to downplay and ignore it. Following Clark as he travels to different areas of Metropolis and actually interacts with people, instead of hovering above them as Superman, makes him feel human. Watching Clark actively pursue stories aimed at bettering peoples livelihoods, and seeing how those stories crossed with the superheroics, was one of my favorite aspects of the run. It's one unfortunately few other writers seem all that interested in, especially the New 52 writers who followed Morrison (I know editorial probably bears a lot of blame for that though).

Besides all that, this run was a lot of fun! The Legion of Superheroes showed up, their connection to Clark restored, and they got to play a big role in Clark's adventures! Krypto the Superdog! Martian colonies! Memorizing all of medicine, Superman performs a lifesaving operation! Lex using a "bullet train" to knock Clark out! 5-D imps! Rampaging robots from beyond! A Phantom Zone Halloween story! John Henry Irons suits up as Steel and kicks ass alongside Clark! Every Superman Rogue teams up to try to kill him, but Lex Luthor saves his life because that's a privilege he reserves for himself! Showcasing their trademark love for the Supermythos, Morrison took us on a tour of Superlore that demonstrated the depth and width of what could be done with Superman. Meanwhile the backups by Sholly Fisch excelled at giving us smaller, more human stories about Superman (the one where Clark meets Pa again via time travel "after" Pa has died always gives me a lump in my throat to read).

Ultimately this didn't get to be the foundation for the next generation of Superman stories as it deserved. Johns made New 52 Superman the scapegoat in Doomsday Clock for a lot of storytelling choices he did over in Justice League, something that pisses me off to no end. You want to tell me that this guy "didn't relate" to people, didn't inspire "hope"?

Like hell he didn't. This guy was Superman in every way that mattered and he deserved better than to be framed as the scapegoat for all the stupid decisions DC made about what to do with him. Greg Pak was able to do some great work with this version after Morrison, and just like how Gene Yang got a redemption work starring Superman, I hope to one day see Pak return to the character. Would love to read a Black Label Superman story by Pak that follows his take on young Superman.

All wasn't lost however. Against all odds, and Rebirth trying it's damndest to sweep everything under the rug, it looks like parts of this era have actually survived to the current Infinite Frontier era. With Morrison being heavily involved no less, both as an ideas guy and as an actual writer.

Superman & the Authority is explicitly Superman coming full circle back to the attitude displayed by his young counterpart under Morrison. Janin has outright said that the costume Clark wears here is reminiscent of the t-shirt and jeans era of Superman, and this book so far feels saturated with an energy level from Morrison I haven't seen in their work for hire since they left Action. Reaching old age and realizing he never really delivered on the high ideals of his beginnings, it's Superman putting together a team to hopefully succeed where he couldn't alone. Scathing in how it criticizes the superhero status quo, this has been extremely entertaining to read. Wish Morrison was writing 12 issues with this team, and that ultimately it will be up to PKJ to deliver on the potential is a drawback (although I've loved PKJ's Action run so far), but I'm glad to see DC finally treating Morrison and their ideas with more respect than was shown during Rebirth.

Jon meanwhile feels like an even more explicit attempt at redoing New 52 Superman. There's the updated new suit, designed to appeal to a new generation with it's streamlined look. Positioning Jon as a Superman who wants to tackle the "real" issues, with Taylor explicitly comparing him to Golden Age Superman which as I mentioned was an era Morrison tried to reincorporate into their reboot. There's the Legion of Superheroes connection which played an important role in Morrison's reboot. The rumors about Jon's sexuality are interesting, hinting that DC is willing to go outside the box with him in a way they never would with Clark. I'm excited to see what kind of Superman Jon ends up becoming, if he can deliver on the promise of the New 52 Superman all the better.

This run deserves to be remembered and to have the lessons it tried to teach respected. Probably my favorite mainline run on Superman, I hope more people come around to liking it as time goes on.

#superman #grant morrison #action comics #new 52

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sgt-paul · 3 years

Text

Paul McCartney Is Still Trying to Figure Out Love – The New York Times Magazine

By David Marchese, Nov. 29, 2020

Paul McCartney, like the rest of us, this year found himself with an unexpected amount of time stuck indoors. Unlike the rest of us — or most of us, anyway — he used that time to record a new album. The pandemic-induced circumstances of its creation may mark “McCartney III” as an outlier in the former Beatle’s catalog, but as its title suggests, it does have precedents: Like “McCartney” (1970) and “McCartney II” (1980), the album, out Dec. 18, was primarily recorded by McCartney alone, with him playing nearly all the instruments and handling all the production. “At no point,” McCartney said, “did I think: I’m making an album. I’d better be serious. This was more like: You’re locked down. You can do whatever the hell you want.” Which was a gas, as always. “What I’m amazed with,” McCartney explained, “is that I’m not fed up with music. Because, strictly speaking, I should have gotten bored years ago.”

It seems to me that working on music by yourself, as you did on the new album, might allow for some insights about what you do and how you do it. So are there aspects of “McCartney III” that represent creative growth to you?

The idea of growing and adding more arrows to your bow is nice, but I’m not sure if I’m interested in it. The thing is, when I look back to “Yesterday,” which was written when I was 21 or something, there’s me talking like a 90-year-old: “Suddenly I’m not half the man I used to be.” Things like that and “Eleanor Rigby” have a kind of wisdom. You would naturally think, OK, as I get older I’m going to get deeper, but I’m not sure that’s true. I think it’s a fact of life that personalities don’t change much. Throughout your life, there you are.

Is there anything different about the nature of your musical gift today at 78 than in 1980 or 1970 or when you first started writing songs?

It’s the story that you’re telling. That changes. When I first said to John, “I’ve written a few songs,” they were simple. My first song was called “I Lost My Little Girl” — four chords. Then we went into the next phase of songwriting, which was talking to our fans. Those were songs like “Thank You Girl,” “Love Me Do,” “Please Please Me.” Then came a rich vein as we got more mature, with things like “Let It Be,” “The Long and Winding Road.” But basically I think it’s all the same, and you get lucky sometimes. Like, “Let It Be” came from a dream where my mother had said that phrase. “Yesterday” came from a dream of a melody. I’m a great believer in dreams. I’m a great rememberer of dreams.

What’s the last interesting dream you had?

Last night’s was pretty good.

What was it?

It was of a sexual nature, so I’m not sure it’s good for the Kids section. Pretty cool, though. Very interesting, dreams of a sexual nature when you’re married. Because your married head is in the dream saying: “Don’t do this. Don’t go here.” And just to let you know, I didn’t. It was still a good dream.

You know, I was conscious of not mentioning the Beatles early in this interview, and you’ve already mentioned them a few times. So let me ask you: The band broke up 50 years ago. You were in it for roughly 10 years. When you’re not doing interviews or playing concerts, how central to your own story of your life are those 10 years from half a century ago?

Very. It was a great group. That’s commonly acknowledged.

Generally speaking.

[Laughs.] It’s like your high school memories — those are my Beatles memories. This is the danger: At a dinner party, I am liable to tell stories about my life, and people already know them. I can see everyone stifling a yawn. But the Beatles are inescapable. My daughter Mary will send me a photo or a text a few times a week: “There you were on an advert” or “I heard you on the radio.” The thing that amazes me now, because of my venerable age, is that I will be with, like, one of New York’s finest dermatologists, and he will be a rabid Beatles fan. All of that amazes me. We were trying to get known, we were trying to do good work and we did it. So to me, it’s all happy memories.

“McCartney III” will come out very close to the 40th anniversary of John Lennon’s death. Has your processing of what happened to him changed over the years?

It’s difficult for me to think about. I rerun the scenario in my head. Very emotional. So much so that I can’t really think about it. It kind of implodes. What can you think about that besides anger, sorrow? Like any bereavement, the only way out is to remember how good it was with John. Because I can’t get over the senseless act. I can’t think about it. I’m sure it’s some form of denial. But denial is the only way that I can deal with it. Having said that, of course I do think about it, and it’s horrible. You do things to help yourself out of it. I did an interview with Sean, his son. That was nice — to talk about how cool John was and fill in little gaps in his knowledge. So it’s little things that I am able to do, but I know that none of them can get over the hill and make it OK. But you know, after he was killed, he was taken to Frank Campbell’s funeral parlor in New York. I’m often passing that. I never pass it without saying: “All right, John. Hi, John.”

And how about your perspective on the work you did together? Has that changed?

I always thought it was good. I still think it’s good. Sometimes I had to reassure him that it was good. I remember one time he said to me: “What are they going to think of me when I’m dead? Am I going to be remembered?” I felt like the older brother, even though he was older than me. I said: “John, listen to me. You are going to be so remembered. You are so [expletive] great that there’s no way that this disappears.” I guess that was a moment of insecurity on his part. He straightened me up on other occasions. It was a great collaboration. I can’t think of any better collaboration, and there have been millions. I feel very lucky. We happened upon each other in Liverpool through a friend of mine, Ivan Vaughan. Ivan said, “I think you’d like this mate of mine.” Everyone’s lives have magic, but that guy putting me and John together and then George getting on a bus — an awful lot of coincidences had to happen to make the Beatles.

People always ask you about John. I’ve noticed they rarely ask about George, who of course also died relatively young.

John is probably the one in the group you would remember, but the circumstances of his death were particularly harrowing. When you die horrifically, you’re remembered more. But I like your point, which is: What about George? I often think of George because he was my little buddy. I was thinking the other day of my hitchhiking bursts. This was before the Beatles. I suddenly was keen on hitchhiking, so I sold this idea to George and then John.

I know this memory. You and George hitchhiked to Paignton.

Yeah, Exeter and Paignton. We did that, and then I also hitchhiked with John. He and I got as far as Paris. What I was thinking about was — it’s interesting how I was the instigator. Neither of them came to me and said, “Should we go hitchhiking?” It was me, like, “I’ve got this great idea.”

Why is that interesting?

My theory is that attitude followed us into our recording career. Everyone was hanging out in the sticks, and I used to ring them up and say, “Guys, it’s time for an album.” Then we’d all come in, and they’d all be grumbling. “He’s making us work.” We used to laugh about it. So the same way I instigated the hitchhiking holidays, I would put forward ideas like, “It’s time to make an album.” I don’t remember Ringo, George or John ever ringing me up and saying that.

How strange is it to share an idle recollection from your youth, as you just did with that hitchhiking story, and then have the person to whom you’re sharing it — in this case, me — know the memory? It seems as though it would be weird.

It’s quite annoying, David. It’s like people at dinner yawning when I’m telling stories. This keeps happening to me.

I even know the details. You and George slept on the beach.

That’s right.

Some Salvation Army girls kept you warm.

Yes.

Then at some point you sat on a car battery and zapped your ass?

That was George who did that! I have a very clear recollection. He showed me the scar. Let’s set the record straight: It was George’s ass, and it was a burn the exact shape of a zip from his jeans.

Do you remember the last thing George said to you?

We said silly things. We were in New York before he went to Los Angeles to die, and they were silly but important to me. And, I think, important to him. We were sitting there, and I was holding his hand, and it occurred to me — I’ve never told this — I don’t want to hold George’s hand. You don’t hold your mate’s hands. I mean, we didn’t anyway. And I remember he was getting a bit annoyed at having to travel all the time — chasing a cure. He’d gone to Geneva to see what they could do. Then he came to a special clinic in New York to see what they could do. Then the thought was to go to L.A. and see what they could do. He was sort of getting a bit, “Can’t we just stay in one place?” And I said: “Yes, Speke Hall. Let’s go to Speke Hall.” That was one of the last things we said to each other, knowing that he would be the only person in the room who would know what Speke Hall was. You probably know what the hell it is.

Yep.

I can’t amaze you with anything! Anyway, the nice thing for me when I was holding George’s hands, he looked at me, and there was a smile.

How many good Beatles stories are there left to tell that haven’t been told?

There are millions. Sometimes the reason is that they’re too private, and I don’t want to go gossiping. But the main stories do get told and told again.

Can you think of one now that you haven’t told before?

Hmm. I will rake through the embers. Oh, I’ll tell you one! I thought of one this morning. It’s pretty good. I don’t think I’ve told it. You’re going to have to say in the article, “I forced this out of him,” because it’s a bit telling-out-of-school.

I am hereby twisting your arm.

So when we did the album “Abbey Road,” the photographer was set up and taking the pictures that ended up as the album cover. Linda was also there taking incidental pictures. She has some that are of us — I think it was all four of us — sitting on the steps of Abbey Road studios, taking a break from the session, and I’m in quite earnest conversation with John. This morning I thought, I remember why. John’s accountants had rung my accountants and said: “Someone’s got to tell John he’s got to fill in his tax returns. He’s not doing it.” So I was trying to say to him, “Listen, man, you’ve got to do this.” I was trying to give him the sensible advice on not getting busted for not doing your taxes. That’s why I looked so earnest. I don’t think I’ve told that story before.

Tax filings — that’s some deep arcana.

I have dredged the barrel.

I know that your goal with making music is to do something that pleases yourself. What’s most pleasing to you on the new album?

I’m very happy with “Women and Wives.” I’ve been reading a book about Lead Belly. I was looking at his life and thinking about the blues scene of that day. I love that tone of voice and energy and style. So I was sitting at my piano, and I’m thinking about Huddie Ledbetter, and I started noodling around in the key of D minor, and this thing came to me. “Hear me women and wives” — in a vocal tone like what I imagine a blues singer might make. I was taking clues from Lead Belly, from the universe, from blues. And why I’m pleased with it is because the lyrics are pretty good advice. It’s advice I wouldn’t mind getting myself.

There’s a song on “McCartney III,” “Pretty Boys,” that is kind of unusual for you in how the music is sort of unassuming but the lyrics have an almost sinister edge. What inspired that one?

I’ll tell you exactly. I’ve been photographed by many photographers through the years. And when you get down to London, doing sessions with people like David Bailey, they can get pretty energetic in the studio. It’s like “Blow-Up,” [the director Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film thriller about a fashion photographer, thought to be loosely based on David Bailey] you know? “Give it to me! [Expletive] the lens!” And it’s like: “What? No, I’m not going to.” But I understand why they’re doing that. They’re that kind of artist. So you allow it. Certain photographers — they tend to be very good photographers, by the way — can be totally out of line in the studio. So “Pretty Boys” is about male models. And going around New York or London, you see the lines of bicycles for hire. It struck me that they’re like models, there to be used. It’s most unfortunate.

“Lavatory Lil” is another song I was curious about. That’s quite a title.

“Lavatory Lil” is a parody of someone I didn’t like. Someone I was working with who turned out to be a bit of a baddie. I thought things were great; it turned nasty. So I made up the character Lavatory Lil and remembered some of the things that had gone on and put them in the song. I don’t need to be more specific than that. I will never divulge who it was.

I have another bigger-picture question. In your experience, how is the love in a marriage different at different stages of your life and in different marriages?

I don’t think it’s different. It’s always a splendid puzzle. Even though I write love songs, I don’t think I know what’s going on. It would be great if it was smooth and wonderful all the time, but you get pockets of that, and sometimes it’s — you could be annoying. To Nancy I’m pretty complex, with everything I’ve been through.

In what ways?

I’m some poor working-class kid from Liverpool. I’ve done music all my life. I’ve had huge success, and people often try to do what I want, so you get a false feeling of omnipotence. All that together makes a complex person. We’re all complex. Well, maybe I’m more complex than other people because of coming from poverty.

And how do you think about money these days?

It has obviously changed. What has stayed the same is the central core. When I was in Liverpool as a kid, I used to listen to people’s conversations. I remember a couple of women going on about money: “Ah, me and my husband, we’re always arguing about money.” And I remember thinking very consciously, “OK, I’ll solve that; I will try to get money.” That set me off on the “Let’s not have too many problems with money” trail. What happened also was, not having much money, when anything came into the house, it was important. It was important when my weekly comic was delivered. Or my penpal — I had a penpal in Spain, Rodrigo — when his letter came through, that was a big event. When they had giveaways in comics with little trinkets, I kept them all. Some people would say that’s a hoarding instinct, but not having anything when I was a kid has stuck with me as far as money. You know, I’m kind of crazy. My wife is not. She knows you can get rid of things you don’t need.

You’re a hoarder?

I’m a keeper. If I go somewhere and I get whatever I bought in a nice bag, I will want to keep the bag. My rationale is that I might want to put my sandwiches in it tomorrow. Whereas Nancy says, “We’ll get another bag.” In that way, my attitude toward money hasn’t changed that much. It’s the same instinct to preserve. One of the great things now about money is what you can do with it. Family and friends, if they have any medical problem, I can just say, “I’ll help.” The nicest thing about having money is you can help people with it.

Something that has been a constant for you musically is your ability to keep coming up with melodies. It’s there on the new album — the melodies all flow. Is your facility for writing a catchy melody ever an obstacle to getting the songs to be more than just catchy? Because a good tune by itself is not always enough to make a good song. “Bip Bop” would be an example of that. Do you know what I’m saying?

No, I know. “Bip Bop” is not lyrically stunning. I was always embarrassed about that song. Literally, it goes, “Bip Bop / take your bottom dollar.” It’s inconsequential. But I mentioned that to a friend, a producer, a few years ago, and he said, “That’s my favorite song of yours.” So you don’t know what people like. It’s enough if I like it and enjoyed putting it on record and don’t particularly want to think of any more lyrics. I don’t want to sweat it. Sometimes maybe it would be better if I sweated it. Once or twice I tried to sweat it, and I hated it. It’s like, What are you doing this for?

Sixty-something years into writing songs, do you feel any closer to knowing where melodies come from?

No. There is something with my ability to write music that I don’t think I’m necessarily responsible for. It just seems to come easier to me — touch wood — than it does to some people. That’s it. I’m a fortunate man.

#paul mccartney #old paul #grandpaul #*m #(the start of the interview was pretty worrying (with him bringing up yesterday like after 5 seconds) but actually?#it turned out to be a decent one)#favourite bit hands down paul's dirty dreams. DUDE... he cannot keep it in his pants even when he is in his dreams #well actually he said he did but lmao #but yeah many other great bits. ''i'm a keeper'' ... loved that one #the complex man rant #and the john and george bits #him being the instigator #!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love this guy :)

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