Tumgik
#it’s a slippery slope into a bad circle and I don’t know if I’m happy not talking to anyone or if I want to (but I need energy for that...(
l1teraryangel · 1 year
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In Another Life (Ch. 9)
“Let me get this straight…” Other Ryou inhaled and pointed to the battlefield where Kek and Bakura’s cards lay. “You guys… have this children’s card game… that has literally been used to determine the fate of the world and take lives. That’s… insane.”
Bakura grinned and set a trap card behind his monsters. “Sanity is a slippery slope in this world, my friend.”
Touzoku-Ou, lying on his side behind Bakura, exaggerated a yawn. “You think this is crazy? Back in my day, we used our souls to summon monsters. If they were destroyed, you bet your ass you were the one feeling it.”
“Listen, old-timer,” Kek grunted, rearranging the cards in his hands. “I tried to recreate that shit with shadow magic, and everyone was like, ‘Kek, no! Kek, stop torturing people! Kek, you can’t use card games to invoke suffering!’ I was all for fighting as one with your monsters. The pain hurts so good.”
“You freak,” Bakura snickered. “I remember your fight with Mai. Got your head chopped clean off.”
Kek licked his lips, winking at a paling Ryou. “That was a fun fight.”
Malik feigned dragging a knife across his darker half’s throat. “If that’s what you’re into, I’ll do it, but I’m gonna be pissed if you die on me.”
The group, including Ryou, laughed. From within the protective circle, Other Bakura and Other Touzoku-Ou snorted, rolled their eyes, and physically displayed as much displeasure over the tedium as they could. Ryou, noticing how completely bored and antsy the two men were, was happy to enjoy their misery from the safety of the group surrounding him. It brought him a sense of victory to be so free while they sat in a cage.
“We should invite Mai to hang out more often,” Kek said while dealing a devastating blow to Bakura’s life points. “She’s probably lonely with so much of the friendship squad preoccupied with relationships and careers.” He nudged Malik in the stomach. “We could set her up, I bet. Opposites attract, right? Think Sister wants a girlfriend with a big ol’ pair of tits to su—”
“Nope, nope, nope!” Malik shoved his pointer fingers into his ear canals. “I don’t want to think about my sister’s love life, much less her sex life.”
Touzoku-Ou sneered at the blonde. “You’re such a priss, Malik. Wouldn’t bother you if he tried to set some other chick up with what’s her face.”
“Mai,” Bakura supplied. “You haven’t had a chance to meet her, have you? She’s not too bad. Fiery and independent. Great set of tits, if you’re into that. Think Dog-Boy had a thing for her for a while before he decided he wanted to suck the CEO’s cock more.”
“Talk about opposites attract,” Malik muttered, shaking his head. “I’m surprised he decided to give Kaiba a chance after some of the shit they’ve fought over. Kinda always thought Jonouchi would end up with Yugi, at least before Atem showed back up.”
“They talked about dating a long time ago. Like… before Battle City.” Bakura wiped Kek’s monsters from the field with a spell-trap combo. “Decided their love for each other was platonic or some shit. Personally, I would have at least gotten a blowjob before shutting away my ‘love’ for someone. But whatever floats the Mini Pharaoh’s boat.”
Kek’s points dropped below one thousand, and he narrowed his eyes at Bakura. “That was cheap. And how do you even know some of this shit?”
“That was perfectly legal, loser. As for your question… Yugi confided a lot more in Ryou than you realize, especially when it was about things that involved his other friends.”
“You eavesdropped?” Malik scoffed. “Ryou’s right. You are a pervert.”
“Call me what you want, Ishtar.” Bakura waited for his turn, a smug smirk curling his lips. “When you’re trapped in an accessory for three thousand years, you learn to take your fun where you can get it.”
His counterpart chuckled. “He told me once he used to fill Ryou’s dreams with erotic images just to watch him beat off.”
The Ishtar duo cackled as Bakura’s face turned beet red, and Malik teased, “I didn’t know you had a thing for him aaaaaallllll the way back then. Damn, things are starting to make sense.”
Bakura countered by flipping up his middle finger and taking the last chunk of Kek’s life points out. “It wasn’t about having a thing for him, it was for the sake of amusing myself. Fuck both of you. And you.” He glared at his tattletale lover.
“Hey, I would have done the same. And it would have been for perverted reasons. Aaaaand I would have owned it, because unlike you, I knew I wanted Ryou the moment I saw him.”
Kek cleared the field, handing his cards to Malik to shuffle and neaten back up. “To be fair, Bakura did have a demon goading him towards vengeance for the first however many years he knew Ryou. Hard to think about sex when you’re hearing ‘KILL THE PHARAOH’ on repeat.”
“You know that from experience, do you?” Touzoku-Ou asked, switching places with Bakura.
“Kinda. Mine was more like ‘KILL EVERYONE ESPECIALLY THE PHARAOH’. No need to dive into the specifics, though.”
Malik perched in Kek’s lap, turning his darker half’s body into a personal recliner. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you two. I managed to multitask just fine, mantra be damned.”
“You had the power of teenage hormones, Ishtar,” Bakura jeered and shuffled the deck he and Touzoku-Ou built. He offered it over to the ashen-haired man, who thanked him with a peck on the back of his hand. 
“Yeah, well… Fuck you.”
“Excellent comeback, Albi. Remind me to write some down for you later.”
“Fuck you, too, Kek.”
“Eh, it’s almost our turn to be primary caretakers for the bastards over yonder. We’ll talk about that later, though. Worry not, my lovely light, your interest is accruing.”
 ***
 After wandering around the circus grounds, efforts to find his alternate self’s boyfriends completely futile, Ryou stumbled upon someone he at least recognized inside a mostly empty tent. Relieved, he waved them down, exclaiming, “Malik! Can I borrow you, please?”
The Egyptian spun around, flaxen hair swishing over his shoulders, and Ryou froze mid-step. His Malik always sported heavily-lined eyes, usually with his favorite black kohl. Sometimes he dabbed a highlighter over his cheekbones, maybe rubbed on a smear of maroon lip color if he felt like leaving marks on Kek’s face and neck. The Malik in front of him, however, leveled up his makeup game.
Metallic gold and bronze shimmered atop his eyelids, outlined by a smoky warm brown and artistically smudged black eyeliner. His whole face showed depths of contouring and highlighting, bringing out his naturally stunning and exotic bone structure. His lips, overdrawn by a smidge to sharpen their shape, reflected the same gold as his eyelids.
“Hey, Ry! Actually, since you’re here, can I borrow you? Yugi borrowed my mirror, and I want to finish up this look so I can get fitted for tomorrow’s show outfit.”
“I-I… I would love to help…?” Ryou snapped his jaw closed, breathing through his nose. “You already look great, though. What else do you need?”
Tugging his hair back into a tight ponytail, Malik beamed and winked. “You’re sweet, Ry. I want to add more pizazz. Maybe rhinestones or beads? I’ve got some spirit gum for tomorrow, but let’s just use eyelash glue for now.”
Blankly nodding, Ryou sat beside Malik on a plastic stool. “Why not do this in a bathroom or something?”
“Bleh, we’ve been on the road for so long, I needed the fresh air. It was working fine until Yugi ran off with my mirror. Think he’s sick of being cooped up, too.”
Brushing one speck of glue at a time, Ryou applied the gold and bronze beads per Malik’s instructions, dotting them along the outer edges of his cheeks and hairline. “Have you seen Bakura and Touzoku-Ou, by chance?”
“Lost your loverboys?” Malik batted his eyelashes, smirking when Ryou blushed. “I’ve been paying more attention to my makeup, sorry. I know Bakura was with Kek at the tomb maze, but I think they should be done by now. Maybe they’re with Mai, going over outfits and makeup plans? Think Bakura is going with a darker, more demony theme for his act this time around. Bet it will look rad.”
Unable to contribute to the conversation, Ryou fell silent and finished the last bead, firmly holding it to Malik’s forehead with tweezers. The blonde hummed, his eyelashes fluttering closed, and carried on, “Has Touzoku-Ou told you what he’s doing for his look this time around? I know Kek is sticking with his classic black and gold. He worries changing it up too much might get in the way of his performance.”
“I don’t… think we’ve talked about it. I'm not sure.”
“Well, I'm sure he’ll look good whatever he wears. Hard not to with a body like that.”
“Yeah, that’s true…”
When the pressure on his forehead disappeared, Malik glanced up at Ryou. “What about you? What are you going to do?”
‘Hopefully go home, since otherwise my act will be a flop…’
Shrugging, Ryou set down the tweezers among the rest of Malik’s kit. “I’m still deciding. Guess I need to figure it out. Maybe I’ll ask around for some opinions.”
“I think you’d look good in somber black, like Bakura, but with a few flashes of red and gold, like how Touzoku-Ou usually wears. Maybe some body painting, like swirls along your curves, a paw print on your chest. Ooh, a snake on your bicep to reference Diabound? Touzoku-Ou would eat that up.”
“Um, yeah, that might be…”
Malik rose to his feet, pulling Ryou in for a hug. “I know you’re shy and prefer sticking to more plain looks so the animals keep all the attention, but going all out once in a while is fun.”
‘I’m shy…? I mean, I probably wouldn’t want to perform in a circus, but I don’t think I’m shy. Guess this version of me is a bit different. Funny that he performs, though, if he is normally so withdrawn.’
“I’ll consider it, Malik. Thanks,” Ryou sighed into the blonde hair, scrunching his face as it tickled his nose. “I should probably get back to my search.”
“Wanna walk with me to Mai? I’m sure that’s where they are. Pretty much everything is done being set up.”
Since he had absolutely no idea where Mai was, Ryou agreed and let Malik lead him out of the tent. The sun sat lower in the sky, lighting the clouds with splotches of purple tucked inside the red and orange glow. The pair walked among the stands to a large trailer — larger than the RV his alternate self resided in — decked out with fairy lights and ‘MK’ painted boldly across the door.
Malik knocked and promptly let himself in, Ryou at his heel with a bit more pause. Mai Kujaku, a vision of the usual loveliness as Ryou expected, analyzed Kek, recognizable from the back by his infamous hair. She skirted around him, viewing his face and body from every angle, oblivious to the newcomers. 
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’? That what you’re going to be rocking for the show?”
Ryou couldn’t see around the door, but he sensed the finger guns accompanying Touzoku-Ou’s flirtatious tone. Malik shot back a cheeky grin.
“You know it. And what a perfect coincidence that the two handsome dorks I was looking for are here together.”
“Why?” Suspicion dripped from Bakura’s words. “What do you want?”
Waving off the question, Malik pulled Ryou from behind the safety of the door, ignoring or oblivious to Ryou’s spooked eyes and slack jaw. “I don’t want anything. Just delivering a present.”
The men jumped to their feet at the sight of Ryou. Bakura, being closest, lunged forward and wrapped the slighter male in a bone-crushing hug. Heat blushed Ryou’s cheeks while the breath on his ear shivered down his spine.
“There you are…! We were getting worried you weren’t going to come out,” Bakura whispered, low to keep the words private. He planted a kiss on Ryou’s temple and pulled back to let Touzoku-Ou squirm into the hug.
“Ryou.” He nuzzled into his neck, trailing kisses from shoulder to ear. “My precious gem… Can we step outside to talk?”
Mai called over Kek’s head, “If you’re leaving, don’t take too long. I’ve still got to work on you three, Malik, Yugi, Atem… And then I have to get everything approved by Seto. You know how picky he is about his visions.”
Malik laughed and swung his arms behind his head. “Hey, I’m easy. Slap on some black shorts, add some tulle or silk accents, send me on my way.”
“You’ll need something for the top, or we will have to brainstorm body paint designs.”
Bakura growled and pushed Touzoku-Ou and, by extension, Ryou towards the door. “Yeah, yeah. Jabber on. We’ll be back.” The door slammed shut behind them, and he jerked his chin to a tree a few meters off. “Over there, away from nosy gossipmongers.”
Ryou dragged his feet behind the two, staring hard into their backs. They weren’t angry, from what he could tell, but he wasn’t used to resolving conflict he himself caused. Of all the fights the trio experienced over the past three years, most of it came from Bakura and Touzoku-Ou. Once or twice, when their actions affected Yugi or his close-knit group, Ryou took the offensive. And, consequently, Bakura or Touzoku-Ou would apologize. They hated upsetting him, and they never got angry with him unless he put himself in harm’s way.
His lower face painfully rammed into the skull of Touzoku-Ou, which brought him back to the present immediately. The man whirled around and steadied him, eyes squinted with concern. “Are you okay?”
“S-Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
Bakura circled around and used his fingertip to massage Ryou’s sore points. “Gotta be more careful, Babe. Touzoku-Ou’s head is like a brick wall. You could have busted your lip right open.”
Kicking Bakura’s shin, more joking than spiteful, Touzoku-Ou mumbled under his breath, “You’re the hardheaded one, dipshit.” He grasped Ryou’s hands and kissed each. “Seriously, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Really.” Ryou found the patches of grass by his feet very interesting, an excellent distraction from the heat bubbling up in his body and the two attentive, strikingly handsome men in front of him. “I should be asking you. It was my fault.”
“Nonsense. This idiot could take a jackhammer to the skull and be fine,” Bakura snorted, bursting into a full laugh when Touzoku-Ou kicked him significantly harder than before. “Now, onto more important matters… Ryou, I—”
“We,” Touzoku-Ou corrected while shouldering Bakura.
The latter rolled his eyes, but nonetheless adjusted his words. “We wanted to apologize for earlier.”
Ryou’s mouth dropped into an ‘O’-shape. ‘...What?’
Touzoku-Ou scratched at his head, eyes flickering between Bakura and Ryou. “You weren’t feeling good, but I kept messing with you… And then Baku was messing with you… And we weren’t respecting your feelings.”
“We should have backed off,” Bakura agreed, and his hand reached to stroke Ryou’s cheek. “We made you feel pressured… And we made you cry.”
“We also heard you… in the bathroom.” Touzoku-Ou laid his cheek on Ryou’s shoulder. “I didn’t realize you were getting so homesick. We can go talk to Kaiba, if you want to sit this show out. I can handle your section with Diabound. And then once this part of the tour is done, the three of us can take a vacation, go back to your hometown, whatever you want.”
‘This… is really sweet. But I don’t know how to tell them they have it all wrong.’
Bakura’s gaze drove deep into Ryou’s. “Ryou… Please say something. We are sorry. So sorry.”
“Extremely sorry,” Touzoku-Ou muttered and nuzzled closer. “Please, my gem, forgive us. My heart couldn’t handle you hating us.”
“I-I could never… I don’t hate you…! You’re misunderstanding!” Ryou stammered, swallowing the nerves knotting up his throat. “I was never angry at either of you…! It’s… Um, it’s complicated…?”
They stepped back, their eyes searching his. Bakura spoke, “Then, Ryou… Please tell us what’s wrong. We love you. We’d do anything to make you feel better.”
Before Ryou could formulate a believable excuse, an unidentifiable voice rasped, “Massssterssss.”
His eyes snapped to their widest as Diabound slithered towards the trio, her colossal body flattening the grass beneath. Her silver eyes tracked him like prey while she serpentined around both Bakura and Touzoku-Ou’s legs, forcing him to stumble backwards.
“Diabound…!” Touzoku-Ou snapped quietly, throwing glances over his shoulders. “You know you aren’t supposed to leave the pen when volunteers are around.”
“Much less speak, you damnable creature,” Bakura growled and pushed her head away from his face. “Are you trying to be turned into some science experiment? What if someone heard you?”
Ryou felt his knees wobble as the snake’s mouth inched open and the gravelly, sexless voice declared, “Not my masssster. Ryou gone.”
“What are you hissing about?” Touzoku-Ou gently repositioned the snake’s head, directing her to look at Ryou. “He’s right there, you silly serpent.”
“Not my masssster,” She repeated, and the voice carried a more assertive hiss to it. “Not my Ryou. He ssssaid sssso. Give back Masssster. Want Masssster.”
Baffled by the creature’s strange behavior, Bakura and Touzoku-Ou shifted their eyes between Ryou and Diabound. Their eyes lingered on Ryou’s unsettled stance, his disquieted, doe-eyed gaze. Something clicked in their brains, and their eyebrows slanted down, narrowing their incredulous eyes.  
As the two stepped around the massive snake and approached him, all Ryou could think was: ‘You friggin’ blabbermouth.’ 
***
 “Victory!” Malik grinned and flipped his fingers into a ‘V’-shape. “Suck my dick, Mr. King of Thieves.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Touzoku-Ou grumbled. “This modern ripoff is stupid. It used to be about spiritual strength, but now you rely on trap and magic cards to save your ass. And half the stuff you pull off is bullshit.”
Bakura chuckled and kissed Touzoku-Ou’s shoulder. “Pouting over a loss is beneath you. Do what I do when Malik wins: kick his ass.”
Jokingly, Kek growled, “Watch it, tomb-robbers. I’ll kick your ass if you touch Malik.” He proceeded to pinch Malik’s exposed midriff, snickering when his other half slapped his hands away.
Other Ryou, interest piqued by Kek’s words, poked Touzoku-Ou’s shoulder for both his and Bakura’s attention. “What’s it like, robbing tombs? Isn’t it dangerous because of the traps?”
“Not if you know how to dismantle them,” Touzoku-Ou boasted and crossed his arms, lips reverting into his cocky smirk. “Which I did. I also avoided them entirely thanks to Diabound. Hard to get caught in a trap if you go right through it.”
“What’s Diabound?”
The pair of thieves considered him for a moment before Touzoku-Ou lifted himself off the ground. Malik frowned, opening his mouth to protest something beyond Ryou’s knowledge, but Bakura flicked the coin from his deck carrier directly into the center of his forehead.
“Summoning Diabound doesn’t use that much magic, Ishtar. Besides, we’re getting the gods to help, right?”
“You’re assuming they will. They might not be able to.”
Kek nosed Malik’s cheek, his tongue darting out to lick the corner of Malik’s mouth. While the other screeched in disgust, Kek leered, “Let him show off, Albi. And stop being dramatic.”
Under the assumption Malik was too distracted to argue his point further, Touzoku-Ou summoned his heka, diving deep into his soul to call forth his ka. Ryou and his fellow other-realmers watched, him awestruck and them morbidly curious.
Through lights ranging from heavenly white to scarlet and sparkling with flecks of gold, the body of a divine serpent sprung forth, coiling around Touzoku-Ou protectively. Above its snake half, Diabound’s humanoid upper body materialized. The feathered wings both at its hips and shoulder blades shimmered like diamonds.
“W-Whoa…” Ryou breathed, and he gasped when the giant beast turned to him, reaching its massive hand towards him. “Um… G-Guys?”
“It’s okay,” Touzoku-Ou chuckled. “Diabound might recognize you aren’t our Ryou, but he won’t harm you.”
Bakura also laughed, a gentle sound as opposed to his more iconic howling. “Diabound acts on Touzoku-Ou’s will, so he guards Ryou like a mother bear.”
Comforted by their assurance, Ryou touched the giant creature’s extended palm, unable to hold back breathy sounds of astonishment. The snake portion of the creature slinked over and flicked it’s arm-sized tongue along Ryou’s leg. He giggled.
“That tickles!”
Malik grumbled, “Sure, licks Ryou, tries to eat me and Kek. I see how it is.”
Kek snorted. “You would think it would be opposite, considering I know Touzoku-Ou likes to —”
“Hey!” Touzoku-Ou snapped, cheeks reddening despite his complexion. “Asshole! It was an experiment that you shouldn’t have even walked in on!”
With the outcry, Diabound faded, but Ryou couldn’t even be disappointed; apparently there was juicy drama and sexy talk afoot. 
Falling to the ground, Bakura rolled with laughter. “Hypocrite! I thought you wore your pervert badge with pride?”
“It’s not perverted to explore my sexual desires and try new things! The modern world has a lot of novelty, and Ryou was perfectly happy to help!”
“Of course he was.” Bakura cured his cackling with wistful eyes and a swipe of the tongue. “Ryou loves a good experiment. Don’t you remember how we ended up with a couple of dumb blondes in our bed?”
Grimacing, Malik glared at the white-haired yami. “We agreed never to speak of that again! I do not need to remember the events of that night… And now I can’t help it. Kek!” He shook his darker half’s shoulder. “Do that thing! Repress my memories!”
“Nah, Albi,” Kek drawled, face ever so slightly flushed. “That was a good night. You’re just pissed cause you got stuck with Bakura instead of Ryou since a certain self-proclaimed king was hogging him.”
“I’m a thief. Selfishness runs in my blood.” Touzoku-Ou gave Malik a finger-gun and winked. “Maybe next time you can get to him first.”
“Oh, no! We’re not doing that again! It was a one time thing because you, Bakura, and Kek thought it’d be funny.”
Bakura smirked. “It was funny. And hot. Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it, because I don’t recall a single objection while Kek and I—”
“Shut up, Ra dammit! You know what? Fuck watching these bastards. They’re your lookalikes, so you two can take a double-shift. Kek, we’re leaving!”
Excitement tangible, Kek’s tongue lolled out his mouth. “Are we going to start working off that interest? ‘Cause with all this remembering, I could use a little one-on-one time with you.”
“I don’t fucking care what we do, as long as they,” Malik motioned to the sniggering Bakura and Touzoku-Ou, “are not present.”
Lapping at his lips, Kek swooped down and scooped Malik into his arms. “Sweet. See you guys later! Hope you don’t get blue balls.”
Ryou watched Kek rush out of the room wearing a manic grin. He expected it would be a while before he saw them again. Not that he could blame them. The image got his blood pumping, too, and he wasn’t even around for the supposed fivesome.
Touzoku-Ou stretched and helped Bakura back to his feet. “How shall we pass the time now? We know each other’s decks inside and out, so dueling will be boring.”
“I was already bored of dueling.” Bakura shrugged and cracked his back, wincing at the sensation. “Sitting hunched over on the floor is uncomfortable. We should have dragged over a table and chairs.”
“You’re getting soft,” His boyfriend teased, poking at his belly. “Maybe we should make a trip Kaiba’s gym once we get Rohi back.”
At the term he recognized to mean their Ryou, Other Ryou peered over at the still form. A part of him ached, knowing the taunts his Bakura and Touzoku-Ou threw at him earlier were true: he was only a temporary guest, a substitute for their chaste affections and flirtations. The one they really loved was trapped somewhere outside his own body. Once he returned, Ryou would be cast back into his own realm along with his murderous pair of ‘boyfriends.’
His eyes wanted to water, but he wouldn’t give the killers the satisfaction. Instead, he yawned and announced, “If you two are sticking around here, I’m gonna go take a nap. I need to take advantage of my time away from them.” He didn’t bother gesturing, knowing both pairs of men knew who he was referring to.
“Go for it,” Bakura acknowledged with a grin. “You probably need a break after everything you’ve experienced today anyway.”
“Sleep well, little one.” Touzoku-Ou winked and blew a kiss. “Sweet dreams, as they say.”
Ryou tried to hide the longing in his eyes and bit his tongue to resist the temptation of inviting the men to accompany him.
 ***
 They dragged him away from the trailers, tents, and RVs. Every time he started to speak, they shushed him or squeezed his wrist to the point of drawing a whimper. Behind them, slithering proudly, Diabound kept her eyes on Ryou.
When they were far enough from the circus grounds, Touzoku-Ou shoved Ryou ahead of them. He managed to catch himself, but Diabound struck soon after, coiling her body around him until his knees buckled. She seemed proud of herself for subduing the imposter on behalf of her masters.
They loomed over him, blazing eyes ready to burn him to cinders. Bakura nudged him through a gap in Diabound’s hold.
“This is starting to make way too much sense. Did you enjoy listening to us prattle on about our love for the boy whose face you stole?”
Touzoku-Ou bared his teeth. “Who the fuck are you? What have you done with him, shapeshifter? So help me, if he’s hurt, I’ll strangle you myself.”
Through coughs and gasps, Ryou actually laughed. “Here I was thinking this world was normal, no magic to be seen. Now there’s a talking snake and shapeshifters apparently?” He winced as Diabound hissed by his ear. “Could you call her off? She’s heavy, I can’t breathe… How can I tell you anything?”
“Give us one reason not to let her squeeze the last ounce of air from your lungs,” Bakura sneered, crouching so they could look in each other’s eyes. Touzoku-Ou followed suit, squatting by Ryou’s head.
“How — ow! — about the fact that this is very much his actual body that you're hurting right now?” Their eyes, distrustful, full of loathing, buried into him. “Seriously? Ask your — fuck… — snake! I told her as much.” Ryou managed a weak glare at Diabound. “If you were gonna blab on me, couldn’t you at least tell them the whole story?”
“Diabound?” Touzoku-Ou nodded towards the beast. “What did he tell you exactly?”
She tilted her head, reaching into her recollection. “Not Ryou you know… Another universssse… Am ka … Egypt… Pharaoh and demon god.”
Ryou groaned, wiggling in the coils of muscle, frantically trying to remove the pressure on his spine and groin. “That’s a very — ouch! — abridged version. Kinda skipped a lot of detail.”
“Give her a minute,” Bakura snapped, and Ryou flinched, sincerely nervous the man might strike him. “She might be a magical creature, but she’s still a snake. They’re not built for memory recall.”
Diabound, ignoring their vehement argument, continued to rasp, “Not the Ryou ussssed to. Hissss body, different ssssoul. No blab.”
The two men, eyeing him, stood. Touzoku-Ou snapped his fingers. On cue, Diabound released her hold and slithered off Ryou’s body. He couldn’t resist, through inhales and exhales, grumbling, “Yet here… we are… Blabbermouth.”
“What does all that mean? Not the Ryou you know or are used to?” Bakura, rather than allow Ryou to catch his breath, demanded.
While opening his mouth, sarcastic response on his tongue, Ryou noticed the switchblade his doppelganger held. Instinct overtook him, driving him to crawl backwards, away from potential harm. They recognized his fear, and Bakura appeared to falter, lowering the blade back into his pocket. Regardless whether they felt bad for frightening him or simply disliked seeing their boyfriend’s face twisted in terror, Ryou appreciated the gesture.
Fighting through his air-starved lungs, Ryou shuddered and whispered, “I… I’m not the Ryou you know… But I am Ryou. I don’t understand all the details, and I definitely don’t know why this is happening… But I am Bakura Ryou.”
“Bakura?” Bakura echoed dubiously. “I don’t get it. Are you me or are you Ryou?”
Ryou frowned. “My full name is Bakura Ryou. Bakura’s my surname. Why? What’s your Ryou’s last name?”
“Imamura,” Touzoku-Ou answered. “Imamura Ryou. Weird that you share a name with your boyfriend. Or does your Bakura go by a different — why are you laughing?"
 “So-sorry. It’s—” Giggle. “It’s a long story, but you calling it weird was just very funny. Ah, Gods above, I needed that laugh.”
His laughter eased what remained of their tension, their body postures relaxing significantly. Touzoku-Ou stepped closer, offering his hand to Ryou and helping the shaken male stagger upright.
“So, for clarification,” Bakura mused, holding his chin. “You’re saying you are Ryou, just from some weird alternate plane of existence? Where apparently you share my name?” He cocked an eyebrow as Ryou devolved into laughter again. “Am I wrong?”
Ryou waved one hand, holding his belly with the other. “Hehe, close enough. You have the right idea.”
The two men, not understanding the apparently hilarious statements they had made, waited for him to catch his breath. Diabound, gazing between her masters and master’s imposter, released a hiss-like sigh. “Boring now. Am hungry. Want foodssss.”
Much to her masters’ chagrin, her declaration restarted Ryou’s fit of hilarity.
--- --- --- --- ---
AO3 Link: In Another Life - Chapter 11 - LiteraryAngel - Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own]
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sagendipity · 3 years
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reminder i'm sage i used to be notplanningshit until i accidentally deleted my blog so now im reposting my works!
info: quackity x reader, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, no warnings
on frizzy hair and the pursuit of perfection
Intellectually, in the rational side of your brain, you know that what you’re feeling is stupid.
You see the Instagram posts talking about the importance of self-affirmation and mental health. You see the tweets saying that people are more than their family’s perception of them. You realize that having a condescending and judgmental family is almost a right of passage for your generation.
These are all things you know, intellectually. But knowing something intellectually does jack shit for actually convincing your heart of whatever you know. You can yell at yourself all you want, but it’s clearly not your rational brain making you tear up at yet another text from your dad that was along the lines of “cool, could be better, though.”
You just want someone, just once, to celebrate an achievement with you. You want to be excited to share something with someone, without fear of them scoffing in the face of your pride and excitement. In your family- hell, in the world, certainly- someone has always done better, and you’re damn sure to be reminded of such.
It’s been years of this same behavior, ever since you can remember. It’s not just your dad, either, it’s your whole family- aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins. The whole town you grew up in had this haughty, arrogant air about it, where everyone was constantly competing, even if there was no reason for it. Take the hardest classes, get the least sleep, get the biggest scholarship. Even your friends would flex their better test scores at you, and refuse to help you with the homework, in case you somehow got a better score on a test than them. You know it’s how they were raised, they’re just a product of their environment and don’t know how bad it hurts, but it still stung then, and probably always will. You’re still in contact with a few of them, and it’s just more of the same whenever you exchange a handful of quick texts every couple months.
You know you should stop giving information about your achievements to them, but when your dad texts and asks how you are, there’s not much you can reply with other than “good, got a promotion at work!” From there, it’s a slippery slope of him asking what new benefits you got, and then the judgmental few moments where the gray dots disappear and reappear while he tries to compose his thoughts about your inadequacy in the least-abrasive way a middle-aged man can. That is to say, not un-abrasively at all. In fact, his words are often delivered with the finesse of low-grit sandpaper on soft wood.
Well, could be more. Work harder and maybe you’ll get an increase next month. I got a lot of bonuses at work when I was your age. All you have to do is take the bad shifts and get some good customer reviews. You’ll get there.
You stare at the fresh new message on your phone screen before clicking it off with a bone-deep sigh, your eyes betraying your rational side by, again, tearing up. You shove the heels of your hands into your eyes and rub until the tears are forced away and you see spots.
That’s how Alex finds you, sat on the foot of your shared bed with your hands rubbing fiercely at your eyes. He’s probably just come to grab a hoodie- the setting sun brings with it a cool breeze that washes through your open windows and cools the house from the warmth it’d gathered from the day’s sun.
“You good?” He asks, opening his closet door and pulling out a hoodie. He wrestles it on over his head as he waits for your response- when he pushes his head out the other end, hair mussed and static-y, you still haven’t answered. “Baby?”
He comes and sits down next to you. Your eyes, red-rimmed but still dry, track his movements before flicking to catalog every tuft of disheveled hair protruding from his head. With a superficial smile, you reach up to smooth his long, black locks back and down into place. It doesn’t matter; he’s going to slip on a beanie sooner or later, but for now, you distract yourself by combing gentle fingers through the soft strands.
“Not that I don’t appreciate this,” Alex murmurs, brown eyes searching your face for an answer to what has you upset. “But what’s wrong?”
“Just my dad,” you whisper, not trusting your voice not to crack. You avoid his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed stubbornly on his hair as you finish your work. “There. You looked like a hedgehog.”
He huffs a little laugh, but scoots closer to you and grabs a hand out of your lap- you’d curled your hands into tight fists, your nails digging little red crescents into your palm. He uncurls the hand he’s holding and reaches for the other, but you save him the work by instead grabbing onto your own thigh tightly, redirecting the frustration. He rubs small circles into the aching skin of your other palm while he waits for you to gather yourself and explain, now that the ice has been broken on the topic.
“He always acts like whatever I do is just not quite good enough for him. They all do- him, my mom, even my fucking friends.” You rub your free hand down your face, trying to alleviate some tension. It does not work. “I don’t know why I’m still upset. They’ve been doing it forever.”
“That’s probably why you’re still upset. You hope they’d grown up enough to stop doing that.” Alex presses his thumb into the center of your palm. It grounds you, and you swallow around the lump in your throat.
“It’s not even a matter of immaturity- it’s not as simple as a pissing contest. It’s just who they are. They don’t think perfection exists, but they want me to achieve it anyways.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. That sounds exhausting.”
He sounds so sincere, so genuine, like the idea of you being treated this way is deeply upsetting to him. You’d never really… experienced that. Someone recognizing your struggle, and admitting that it must fucking suck is something you’d never been graced with.
His brow is furrowed in a display of concern, eyes gentle and searching. He’s not lying, he means what he said, and he’s not going to follow it up with a “but-,”.
Eyes beginning to sting again, you lean forward until you’re resting your forehead on his shoulder. The soft fabric of his hoodie immediately calms you, along with the warmth you can feel emanating from him. It makes sense, after all, that the personification of pure sunshine would have such warmth about them.
Alex scoots forward, gathering you more closely in his arms, his legs awkwardly folded so that you can sit right in front of him. His hands come up to hold you, one fisting in the fabric of your sweatshirt, and the other resting on the back of your neck, gentle, but firm. You let out a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Not going to cry.
“I got a promotion at work,” you mutter, taking a long, deep breath. You brace yourself, waiting for a dismissive response. “That’s what set my dad off- I got- he-.”
Your voice cracks, and you trail off with a small sigh, clutching at Alex’s hoodie even tighter. It’s thick and soft under your fingers, and you knead at it like a cat.
“A promotion?! Baby, that’s amazing!” Alex pulls back just enough to take a glance at you, his own expression steeling from excitement back to sadness as he sees that you are still fighting back tears. “Sweetheart, I think you’re the only person to ever cry after getting a promotion.”
A little laugh escapes your chest, huffy and wet, but still a laugh. Alex’s lips curl into a smile as he reaches up to smooth back some of your stray hairs, like you’d done for him a moment or two ago. You smile, reaching up to intercept his hand, and lace the two of you’s fingers together.
He squeezes your hand where it’s resting in his grip, looking at your linked fingers briefly. “Also, your family is wrong.”
“About what specifically?” You huff, wiping at your eyes for hopefully the final time.
“About perfection not existing. It does, and I know exactly what it looks like.” Despite the serious words, Alex is fighting back a smile. You narrow your eyes at him, already anticipating the next thing he’s going to say. “It looks like you, dumbass.”
You groan, feeling a hot blush rise to your cheeks immediately. You tip forward to bury yourself in Alex’s neck, this time hiding your flustered face and stupidly happy grin.
“I can feel your smile against my neck, you know.”
“Oh, fuck off-.”
With the hand that’s on the back of your neck, Alex coaxes you out of hiding just to press a kiss to your forehead. “Really. I am proud of you. I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me about your achievements because of what your family has done to you.”
“Okay,” you whisper again, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”
He hums in response, tilting his head and looking at you with what can only be described as pure fondness in his eyes. Then, he leans down to meet you for a delicate kiss, and your eyes finally stop stinging.
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mcfreakin-bxtch · 4 years
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I Would
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The Mandalorian x PlusSize!Reader
Warnings: SMUT, Dry Humping, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Language, Fluff, Soft Couple
Word Count: 2.3k+
A/N: Thank you to @whiskeyslasso​ for requesting and being very, very patient with me ❤️ if anyone else would like to request or just talk/ask, my inbox and anons are open (multifandom!)
This could also be read as Part Two to Beautiful, as they are essentially the same characters/mindset
-
“We’ll be okay.”
“You say that all the time.”
“Yeah, and here we are. Still.”
The Mandalorian sighs. “Okay,” he relents. “But if anything happens, anything at all, you—”
“Radio to you and have my blaster on me at all times.” You smile. “I got this, Din. But we do this every time, this isn’t my first time being left alone without a certain Mandalorian hovering over me.”
You walk to him and wrap your arm around his neck and let the other trail up his chestplate and to his shoulder; his arm wraps around your waist, resting at the base of your spine. You don’t want to hurt his feelings, but he can be overbearing at times, especially when you have the Child with you. 
He sighs again, quieter this time, but nods and gives you a playful slap to your ass, making you giggle and smile up at him. 
“I want this ass when I get back. Understand?”
Your heart skips a beat and you pout your lips. “Promise?”
He growls, making you giggle again and give a light kiss to the beskar. Before Din can reciprocate—in whichever way he feels like—you feel a tug at your pants leg. The both of you look down at the little goblin, staring back up at you with beaty round eyes and a grimace. 
“I think he’s a little jealous.” You muse teasingly. 
Din grunts in agreement. “Of course the womp rat is.”
You chuckle and bend down with a small groan—you really need to see about finding some comfortable padding for those cots—and pick the Child up and sit him by your side. 
“Say ‘bye’.” You coo, waving his hand at Din playfully. 
The Child babbles unintelligibly, but Din nods as if he understands him. “I won’t be long. Stay safe, cyar’ika.”
You nod and blow a kiss. “Be careful.”
“Always am.”
And it’s always hard watching him leave.
By the time Din gets back, you’re sitting on the floor with the baby surrounded by various items and toys you bought from a market not too long ago. The Child attempts to sit up, but stumbles in his footing; your hands hover by him, waiting to catch him. He turns to you and gurgles, one green, grubby hand pointed towards you and the other towards the hull, where you can hear Din moving around. 
“You’re so cute!” You exclaim in a mimic of a mother’s adoration. “Just the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen! My little guy!” The Child laughs.
Din freezes just as he steps over the last step, but before you can ask what’s wrong he stalks towards the mess and glances down. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” You smile. “Nothing new.”
He picks the Child up, giving his head a soft caress. It never fails to make your heart glow with a fierce fondness you’ve never felt before. “Did he eat?”
You hum in affirmation as you start to clean up the messy area. When you look back up, Din is already gone with the baby and you’re left alone, sighing and throwing the various items into their respectful boxes. 
“Well,” you puff with your hands on your hips. “That’s do—”
Everything goes dark. Pitch black. You can barely see in front of you, even with the small patch of light drifting through the Crest’s glass. 
“Din?” You call out. 
Your body starts to tremble. The fear that someone or something has actually gotten on to the ship somehow floods through you like a freezing tidal wave, and you’re about to reach blindly for your weapon when a pair of bare, soft hands stop you. 
“Stars!” You gasp, resting your hand over your racing heart. “You can’t scare me like that, Din.”
Nothing but your breathing. Then, “I don’t like it when you say that.” That’s a little to the right. 
Your face scrunches in confusion and you tiptoe until you feel you’re directly in front of where his lovely, baritone voice came from. “Say what?”
“What you said to the kid. It makes me feel... good, and secure when I leave knowing he’s safe but... puts ideas in my head.”
You raise your head. “Well, I would do anything for that bugger so you don’t gotta worry about him.” Your eyebrows wiggle playfully, just for your amusement. “And that’s not such a bad thing.”
“I know.” He says quietly.
“C’mere.” You bring him into your arms.
The two of you stay in the hug for a few moments, just revealing in the warmth and the close proximity of each other. It’s—it’s amazing, holding him in your arms like this. With his job, with your lifestyle, it’s hard to find moments of peace like this; to be able to actually sit for a minute and isolate from the outside world, even if just for a second. Sometimes, there needs to be a reminder; you know that Din needs this more than you do. 
“C’mon,” you gently pull away from only far enough to grab his hand and start to lead him—one arm stretched in front of you—blindly to your shared bunk. “You made a promise.”
It takes a few bumps and some inaudible curses, but when you finally feel that empty space and the scratchy fabric of the blanket under your fingertips you sigh in relief. It’s short lived with a welcoming tap of encouragement by the Mandalorian behind you and you immediately take the hint and crawl onto the springy, hard cot. You wait and shiver in anticipation as you lay on your back, legs already spread and pussy wet and wanting. 
Din practically collapses on top of you with a small groan mixed with your oof as the weight of him settles on top of you.     
“You’re heavy, old man.” You giggle nonetheless. 
An offended noise erupts from his chest, his breath heavy on your cheek as he hovers over you. “Old man, huh? I don’t see you complaining about that when I’m balls deep inside you.”
The crudeness has you shuddering and your legs tightening around his hips. “Eh, you’re not that bad.” 
His fingers ghosts over your ribs and before you can fully realize what he’s up to, it’s too late. 
“DIN!”
He continues his attack on you, tickling your sides as you writhe and wither beneath him in heavy fits of laughter. His own, though softer than yours, joins yours and this—these moments are nothing but treasure to you; better than any quarry, any job, any credit, and you find in this precious time how much you truly appreciate and love him. 
“A-alRIGHT alright stop I yield I yield!”
Din finally, finally stops and lets you pant as your body settles from it’s electric shock. His hands travel down the slope of your body, stopping at the soft fat of your thighs and gripping, pulling you impossibly closer; your hips clash, his half-hard erection grinding against your clothed pussy, making you moan quietly at the delicious friction. 
His unruly curls brush against your forehead as he leans down to give you a kiss. You moan into it, opening your mouth and accepting his tongue with an less than equal match, but you’re more than happy to lose to this battle. Your hips move against his, picking up a steady rhythm as you feel him become harder. When his lips disconnect from yours, you whine and tug at his hair to bring him back; he growls and meets your desperate kiss with a bite to your lip. 
“Take off your shirt.” He orders you. 
You don’t hesitate to tear the flimsy fabric up and over your head and behind him. Your nipples perk under the cold draft that seems to always come naturally with the ship and a light tap to your hip indicates that you need to lift them. Once you’re out of your pants, you hear him start to work on his, all the while one of his hands cups your now bare cunt; he whistles softly at the pool of juices gaping from your entrance. 
“Maker.” He whispers, almost in awe you think. “Already so fucking wet and I’ve barely touched you.”
His thumb circles around your clit, causing your hips to lightly buckle into his touch. “Just for you, daddy.”
Din groans and dips a finger into your pussy as reward. You moan at the slight stretch, his thumb unwavering in its tease. 
“I don’t think I can wait, not this time mesh’la.” He gasps and you hear a slickness that’s both coming from your pussy and him as he thrusts his cock into his hand; at least, that’s what you’re assuming, given that you still can’t really see. 
“I-it’s okay.” You whisper wantonly. “I’m ready. I just need you.”
You blink and next thing you know, you’re flipped onto your hands and knees, his hand pressing down on your neck. You take the hint and lay your head down on your pillow, clutching at whatever you can find to anchor you, thrusting your ass against his hips; the tip of his slippery head slides against your cheeks, earning you a hearty moan from the man above. 
“Your ass is perfect cyar'ika.” He praises with a slap. You whimper and wiggle your legs, spreading them even further apart. “A needy little one, aren’t you?” Another slap, this time harder than the first. 
“Y-yes daddy.” You whine. 
“‘Course you are.” He seems to mumble to himself. 
Before you can say something, anything at all, you hear a lewd squelch—that doesn’t come from your pussy this time—and his hand slides up your slick folds, an extra warmth and wetness coating your cunt and mixing with your juices. Your knuckles are probably pale white by now with how hard you’re clutching the blanket and you’re about to scream at him to do something to you before you implode by your own horniness; it’s been a while for you, too. 
Without any warning, he thrusts into you with one, smooth motion. You cry out as he sinks into you until he can bottom out, holding himself deep within you as he attempts to calm down as you adjust. 
“Move daddy.” You beg. “Please.”
Din moans, shuddering and already panting when he slowly pulls out until the tip is in and thrusts back inside with a hard snap of his hips that sends your body forwards; his heavy grip on your hips holds you steady. You mewl as he does it again, each thrust harder and harder until the slaps of skin against skin echoes throughout the cockpit. Your pussy envelopes him, welcomes him back into your slick and tight canal until he’s a moaning mess. 
“Ma—oh Din.” He stops, taking a breath and shifting his hips. That gets him to hit that spot inside you. “Shit ri—Din that’s so good, keep going.”
“Yeah?” He grunts and scoots closer to you so that his thighs are pressed tightly against the back of yours. “Gonna cum, little girl? G-gonna—kriff.”
The coil in your lower stomach is already burning you. His thick, long and beautiful cock stretching you, hitting every spot inside you that either gets you closer to your impending orgasm or hits your cervix rather painfully, but it’s a welcome pain that the pleasure he’s giving you easily soothes. 
“Y-you-r pussy is so fucking tight.” It sounds like he’s talking through gritted teeth. “So w-warm and tight. Clenching around me—”
You moan loudly and reach an arm behind you to grab on to his thigh, digging your nails into the hot skin as he stutters in his thrusts; you can feel him pulsing and twitching inside you, every vein and wrinkle scratching against your walls. You clench down on him as it starts to feel impossible to breathe, incomprehensible and nonsense babble escaping your lips like a dam broken and your legs shaking under the weight of your release. Your clit throbs without any attention, and you have to beg him,
“Please please daddy, touch me.”
“I—shit I am, princess.” 
“No,” you whine, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggle to find the words you’re looking for. It doesn’t help the intense and welcoming pressure building deep in your core, travelling through your pussy. “My—my clit, Din. Touch me, use me daddy.”
He stops deep inside you and leans over and down so that you feel his hair on your face again before he kisses you. They’re short, sloppy pecks, but satisfying. He pulls away and fits his hand underneath you, cupping your pussy—to the point where he can feel his slick dick push into you on the tips of his fingers—and circles your aching bundle of nerves with a rough thumb.    
“I’m—” Your throat is closing up and your tummy coils with the boiling need that’s overwhelming in its nature and fuckfuckfuck everything is going white—
“That’s it. That’s it little girl, cum all over me.” He rasps. 
You do. The pressure is blazing and your cunt holds no restraints against his weeping cock, desperate to find his own release. It feels too good, impossibly and otherworldly good, and your lower body follows the rest of yours as you finally fall. Din still thrusts inside you, faster and practically putting all his weight on your lower back as he holds you down. 
“Shit—princess I’m cumming.” He growls, harshly and deafeningly. 
“Yes. Yes.” You encourage with breathless whines. You do your best to move with him, and after a few more thrusts he abruptly pulls out and spills all over your ass, painting the pudgy red flesh with pearls as he whimpers and groans; the soft splats of his hand around his cock and his cum spilling onto you makes you twitch and your cunt clench painfully and tearfully around nothing. 
Din falls down next to you, panting along with you. You stay on your stomach, too tired and fucked out to move, feeling his cum dribble down your ass cheeks; some even drips down to your wet, abused pussy. 
He says your name. It’s quiet and calm, and your eyes droop as you mumble, “Yeah?”
“Think you have another in you?”
You grin. “Always, daddy.”
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Happy Dracula-O-Ween || Part 20 of 31 ||
Count Dracula lay in the darkness of his bedroom, one arm resting behind his head, the other wrapped around Vlad as he snuggled and slept into his side. His mind were turning over with the thoughts of how Vlad and himself were going to rise to the top, how they'd managed to get away with it without alerting The Jonathan Harker Foundation. What a palava that whole mess was. They couldn't be medieval about it. They couldn't just catch a train up to Whitby, slaughter the entire foundation, and come home again. No, this was the 21st Century, they had to be political about it. Defunding. They needed to defund them. But how would they do such a thing? Was Vlad on their radar? He highly doubt it, he'd managed to keep well hidden and they'd never mentioned another vampire to him, only the existence of a Count Dracula. His fingers made circles in the man's arm as he looked down at him, contemplating using him as a way in to a higher power to break it down from the top. But would he be risking the man he'd lost for so long and only just got back? What if they knew Vlad were alive and they'd just never told him, to save vampires from grouping together? The stress of the situation at away at the vampire, causing him to rub at his forehead.
Carefully, he removed himself from the safe hold of the other man, sliding out of bed and sneaking out into the hallway, softly closing the door. A decanter of blood, always at the ready, stood at the bottom of the stairs. He grabbed it with no need for pouring out a glass, pinching at the bridge of his nose as his feet dragged toward the window that overlooked the city. He took a swig. He could run for MP? No, that would take far too long. Unless he stole the skin of a trusted politician within the House of Commons, he'd stolen Jonathan Harkers skin a hundred years ago, he could surely do it again. But then... How do you find out which politician works with a top secret organisation that controls and observes supernatural beings? They'd come across a mad man. No. There had to be another way about all this.
Just then, a cold sensation pressed against his throat. A small swallow helped shape it into a slim wrist pressing against his neck. How foolish, he couldn't die, what a terrible vampire hunter this person was. Until he felt the press of a stake in his back. Ah, now that was a little more complicated. "You're unruly and chaotic. Someone needs to sort you out once and for all." The voice were feminine but rugged with anger. The hand that choked his throat, grabbed his left shoulder and flipped the Count until his back were pressed against the window.
Elizabeth? She had come to kill him? A mocking smile lingered on his teeth "Why didn't you give me a call? We could have my final moments more special." He purred down at her.
Elizabeth replied to this thought with a scoff of an expression "I'm not here to kill you. I'm here because you need help, Omor. Three missing people within three days? I could practically track you from their jobs alone. You're vain, you love an expensive nightclub, and you enjoy being around people your own age" she mocked up at him before being serious once more "You've lost your sense of direction again. This is a dangerous slippery slope."
"I'm doing just fine. Don't you think you're taking it out of hand? Just because several people have gone missing, doesn't meant that I were the one behind it. Have you forgotten that humans have serial killers walking amongst them? It's not just us that do bad things. Humans do it all the time." Dracula tried to reassure the woman, his gaze softening down at her.
A cold blade swung round to press into her neck then, lips pressing up close to her ear, a voice dripping with threat. "Who might you be? You have no place here threatening my partner."
Elizabeth tried her best to squirm out of the stranger's grip, but clearly he were much stronger than her. Wait, partner? This was a male voice? Elizabeth's eyes scanned up and down the taller vampires body, a devilish smirk dancing on her lips "Ooh, Omor, I didn't know you took a fancy to men as well as women. If I knew that I would've asked for the male servants to join in on our little parties, made an orgy of it." Clearly the whole idea of reform had gone out of her mind when sex talk happened.
With a shy sigh, Dracula introduced the two that threatened to tear each other's heads off. "Elizabeth, this is Vlad Tepes, my partner from my human years. Vlad, this is Elizabeth, she taught me everything I should know about how to survive as a vampire shortly after I'd turned." Clearly this was not the happy introduction that he'd wanted to have. He almost felt... Caught.
"I know who she is, I've tried to convince her to join us before. But she thought herself better than that." Dark eyes flashed wild as he looked at the woman with a smile of disgust.
"So you're the psychopath that wants vampires to rule the world." Elizabeth groaned under his grip, eyes held down toward the floor, trying to get a better look at the man. They flashed up again, meeting Draculas eyes in a softer manner. "I set you up to fail recovery, so that you might lead me to whoever it was trying to control us. I should've realised that you're a weak piece of shit." She snarled at Dracula then, spitting in his face.
He flinched at this, shutting his eyes as the saliva met his face. His careful tone before when he introduced his lover to her now turned sour. Wiping away the spit, throwing it on the floor, his lips pursed in anger, and eyes met hers with a chilling coldness to them. "We don't want to rule the world. We want to dominate the food chain." He corrected her. "If anyone is the weakling amongst us, it would be you, Elizabeth." His voice hissed as he came closer to her face, like a snake intimidating its prey before it swallowed it whole. "You really think that humans would want to be your friend if they knew what you are? They would hunt you down and kill you the minute they knew that their ordinary lives were never ordinary. We are much more than man ever will be." Words he'd spread amongst The Demeter. Words that are true.
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jacqofspectre · 4 years
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A few months ago I had a dream about a different way to begin the start of Steven Universe and I wanted to post a story I created based off of that dream.
Steven Universe began living with the gems when he first got signs of his powers at the age of 9. He’d been slowly training for a while and he’d met Connie in a different way, that I didn’t get to see. And basically as his training advances, he still wasn’t allowed to go on missions with the gems.
He was pretty young to be training anyway but he insisted on it because he wanted to be cool like they were. Fast forward, when he was about 12, he’s gotten pretty good at summoning his shield, sometimes even more than once, but that’s pretty much all he could do besides being able to open roses room. (he’d been secretly doing endurance training a lot without telling the gems or his dad.)
And soon he noticed that the gems still hadn’t tried testing him on any missions, or even letting him see how missions were. The gems reasoned taking him on missions was a bad idea because they thought he was still too young and they wanted him to have a little bit more freedom as a kid with Connie before he learns of the tragic fate of corrupted gems.
(In canon, Steven didn’t go on missions til he was 13 so it was understandable for the gems in this dream au to be like, “not yet”.)
But Steven knew his potential and he knew he had a destiny, which he overheard from pearl and garnet cuz pearl can’t keep her mouth shut, and garnet seemed to be showin a lot more of Ruby’s side. He wanted to help, so one day, he hears about a big mission they were gonna go on and he sneaks into the temple to overhear the details.
Steven was the typical kid being curious, so he decided to prep himself to accompany them on the mission, even if they said no. He wanted to show them he was able to help and that he was strong. He put on his puffer, and some warm clothes and filled up a bag with items he thought he’d need.
So the day comes where the gems are like, “we’re goin on the mission, Steven!” And Steven’s like, “can I come?” In his sweet kid voice, and they’re like, “oh, Steven, I wish you could, but You’re just too young right now. Stay here and guard the house for us. We love you.”
And he’s nodding, watching them as they warp away, and as soon as the warp finished glowing, he jumps on at the last second, to not be noticed, and it works and they don’t see him come along.
The gems are already in another room and Steven’s standing in awe of this base that they’ve warped to. It’s a completely glass room(floors, walls, and ceiling are made of glass, and it’s one way glass so he can see out but the outside reflects the scenery so you wouldn’t know it was there.) And this base, Half of it overhangs off of a mountain.
He falls back onto the warp pad, afraid of stepping off the glass at first, but then he manages to feel it’s strength, and it feels pretty sturdy. He walks around the room, taking the rest of it in. It looks much like the control room of the moon base, but Steven wouldn’t have known that.
He makes his way to an inner room of the base, that was cut into the mountain. The mountains that were around him, were snowy, but you could tell this place was warm, as the snow was melting. It was overcast, but not snowing, and it was pretty windy. You could even hear the sound of the wind hitting the glass walls and floor, and maybe something else out there as well. The mountains were jagged in some areas, but most had flat plains around them and even some tops of mountains were flat enough to make little bridges to other mountains
Steven goes into the next room and sees the gems were about to start their mission. Pearl was asking garnet a few more future questions to keep herself feeling confident and amethyst was doing something to her whip.
The moment they heard the other door open, they looked over, and saw Steven, who was pretty embarrassed he’d gotten caught so easily.
“Steven??! What are you doing here?! You have to go home right this instant!” Pearl exclaims, walking over to make sure he’s in no way injured.
“I’m coming with you guys!” He says and smiles, begging them internally.
“Oh, no no no, you are going to go right back home and wait for us there. This is a very dangerous mission, and you could get h—“ Steven cuts her off.
“But pearl, every time I ask, you guys always say no. One day, you’re gonna need me and I won’t be there to help you. Please! Just give me a chance!”
Amethyst was fine with him going, as she’d seen him doing his late night extra practice behind their backs and she was even gonna root for him, but garnet spoke up before she could.
“Steven, I know we treat you like you’re a child, and it seems like we don’t believe in you, or what you can do, but the fact is.. We care for you so much, and this mission is not an easy one. It’s going to be very difficult and long, and at your level of training, you aren’t ready.”
Steven looked down at the floor, upset. “I just want to help...” he slams his foot on the ground, and yells, “You guys have never let me come on any missions, even though I train so hard! You don’t have any faith in me! Well I’m not going home! I’m coming with you, whether you like it or not!!”
And this begins the long back and forth between him, garnet, and Pearl. Steven’s being defiant and slightly throwing a fit, and garnet and pearl are trying to calm him down, while trying to work his way back to the warp pad. Usually, garnet could just pick him up, but she didn’t this time.
They called his dad and Connie was apparently on her way to hang out with him, so she was brought along, and they both also tried to talk him out of doing anything that could hurt him. They were in the warp room now, and he was keeping himself away from the warp pad. Amethyst blocked off the door to the other room, and Connie and Greg are still trying to get him to stop.
And he realizes that there’s no way they’re gonna let him go now. They were guarding the other door, and it felt suffocating being the only one who believed in him.He knows he could prove to them he’s strong enough, and he kicks the glass floor in defeat, and notices that the floor... “the floor is glass..”
He thought to himself, he’s got one shot at proving it to them and he ain’t backing down. He summons his shield and he pretends to charge garnet and pearl, but instead, he slams his shield onto the floor as hard as he can, and it breaks a jagged circle into the floor and essentially, there’s a full second of stunned silence and then everyone simultaneously yells, “STEVEN!” as he falls to the mountains below.
He hits the snow with a soft thud, as the updraft made him float slower, and he sleds all the way down a part of the mountain to another mountain connected to it, and as he stops, he notices the backs of his hands were a little cut by the glass, and he winces at the injury. He has no time to waste though, so he starts running, and continues for a while, feeling a bit lost but he only ran in one direction so he kept note of it and stopped to take a break. A loud roar was heard over the mountain and Steven decided to go into a nearby cave first, just to keep himself safe. He bandages his fingers and decides nows the time to go catch that monster.
Making his way towards the sound, he remembers what garnet told him about the monster. It was a blue snake-like creature that eats things that glow blue, could dig holes like a worm, and had a roar that could stun you if you didn’t cover your ears. He walked for some time, stopping to take a few breaks, but kept his mind aware of the way back, that is until he found the monster. It was peacefully eating some glowing blue plants, while slithering it’s tail as if it was pretending to be on guard. Being so close to a monster that big was extremely scary, but also a first for him. He took a deep breath and steadied his nerves, as he thought of a plan of attack. If he could trap it in one of the stone caves with his shield, it could be stuck long enough for him to get back to the gems and show his efforts, but he’d no idea how to.. then he saw it, some glowing blue plants in front of him and he smiled, picking them up, knowing his plan.
He jumped out in front of the monster, waving the blue plants and shouting, “HEY YOU! COME AT ME!” And then he ran, making sure to use his shield as a sled over slippery or steep slopes. He was chased near a high cave and managed to dodge, forcing the monster to run inside. He expanded his shield to act as a wall for the monster as it tried to turn around, and it couldn’t escape, as the shield was keeping it stuck in like a door.
“Woohoo! I did it!” Steven yells and gets closer to the monster to see what it looked like and the monster roared, causing steven’s ears to ring, and it banged on the shield, causing him to fall back in alarm. But the shield wasn’t budging and Steven calmed his nerves.
He was so happy, he was about to go back and tell the gems but he realized.. he was lost.
“G-garnet will know where I am though. I’m sure about that. And besides. I got my backpack and I have some food so maybe I’ll be able to-” he picks up his bag and and the glowing blue food fell out, prompting the monster to screech louder. A mountain of snow from atop the mountain he was on, began to fall. He backed away from the slope and realized that he was about to end up in an avalanche if he didn’t run away. But then the monster would get buried and he’d lose it in the cave! He didn’t have much time to think of a plan as the monster banged against the sheild again, like a gong, while still screeching and causing the mountains snow to fall further.
“Oh no!” Steven bolts away from the mountain and makes another shield to sled down but the shield hit’s a rock and he flies off, hitting his back against another a boulder, winding himself. The snow that was tumbling down was about to hit him, and he wasn’t able to move, not to mention his ears still ringing. He tried to get himself to breathe, but the air on the mountains was thinner and it was too hard to do fast enough.
“So this is where I die?” He thought, beginning to cry, “I fought with Dad, and the gems, and Connie and I could have apologized, but I didn’t...” He didn’t want to be here without them. He wanted to go back to them. He should have listened...
“WATCH OUT!” A voice yells, and jumps in front of him. His wet eyes blurred his vision, and all he could see was red. When they came into view, he could see this person wasn’t normal looking. They were short and square, and really red. they managed to melt the approaching snow with their hands like something the gems could do, and as Steven managed to get himself to move, he noticed a rock was coming from above, and he managed to get up and push the red being out of the way, and they tumbled down the mountain. He opened his eyes and it seemed he was in his shield- no... a BUBBLE?!
They reached the bottom of the mountain, into a valley that was still the top of another mountain, and the bubble popped, causing both of them to sink into snow.. the red being got up, and helped Steven regain the rest of his breathing.
“Wh-who are you?” Steven asks. The red being blushes, speaking like some sort of cowboy, “I’m just a traveller through these parts! I saw you introuble and I decided to help!”
Steven noticed something shiny on the beings hand, and sees her gem, “You’re another gem! But why are you in these mountains? Did you get lost here? I also got lost here. And I’m a gem too!” He asks, extremely intrigued by her. The red gem stammers, but nods and goes along with his words.
“That’s right! I’m a gem! M-my name’s Ruby.” She says with a nervous smile. Steven didn’t seem to notice her anxietys, and decided that some company was better than none.
Basically, Garnet split back into Ruby and Sapphire right after Steven had crashed through the floor. Hence why Steven got away so easily. And see, Ruby also had believed in Steven, and could feel he was going to be mature enough to handle a mission like this. But sapphire disagreed, only focusing on one path for him. So Ruby shot back, “because you only see him as a child! Can’t you see how he’s been acting these past months??” And Ruby said she was going to find him without Sapphire to show that she was right. And sapphire was too upset to stop Her. Sapphire stayed with Greg and Connie. Pearl and Amethyst went along too, but Ruby went alone, trying to put herself in his shoes, remembering the paths he could have taken if he used his wits. And she found him, but because it was supposed to be a secret she was a part of garnet, she kept her mouth shut and tried to play the part.
Ruby used Steven’s bandages on his wounds as he had scraped his back from before, while also keeping him warm by making a fire with her feet and some loose firestarters in steven’s backpack. The smoke blended with the wind and it disappeared as soon as it rose.
“S-so what brings you to the mountains, S- Er, human? These are dangerous parts. And it seems... you aren’t that prepared for something like this.” Ruby says, sounding more like a sheriff in the old west, she kept surveying the towering rocks above her, making sure there was nothing to attack them.
Steven looked down at his cut up hands and sighed, “I... I was trying to show them that I was able to go on missions with the gems- my family. But I guess they ended up being right. I really am too young to take care of myself...”
Ruby frowned, wanting to tell him he was wrong about how he felt about himself, but she had to keep character, thinking about how he felt in her head.
“So, you’ve just been lost in these mountains?” he asks.
“Yea, uh, I’ve been here for decades. Haven’t been able to find my way home.”
Stevens eyes lit up, “Home?! You have a home?!! Are there other gems there?? What’s it like?? Do you know the crystal gems?!! Were you guys friends?! How—“
Ruby covered his mouth shut, “that’s too many questions for right now, maybe you should worry about keeping yourself alive while I figure out a way to get home.” Steven’s brain lit up and he remembered his compass, pulled it out of his pocket, “ I actually was trying to find my way home but I have no idea which way to—“
“A COMPASS! Oh perfect! if we go east, we’re sure to run into the end of the mountains! Nice job, Steven!” She exclaims.
“You’re welcome!” He says confidently, and they get up to go, but he stops, “wait... how do you... know my name??”
“Wh-What?” She doesn’t understand.
“I never told you my name.”
“Y-Yeah sure you did.” Ruby flushes redder.
“No I didn’t. I wasn’t even fully sure if I should have trusted you, Ruby. D- do you know the crystal gems??!” Steven questioned, stepping back just a bit.
Ruby knew her plan was failing but she didn’t want to tell steven yet who she was because she was scared he’d try to run away and he was already injured, but she had no idea what to do. Sapphire was usually the one to know what to do, but... no. Sapphire’s no help either right now. Ruby’s gotta figure this out for herself.
“Okay, Steven. Sit down and listen for a second.” Steven sat down and she prepped herself for the truth, when Suddenly the roar of the monster was heard just over the mountains.
“I’m G-“ was all she managed to say before the monster was seen tumbling over the hills.
“Oh no, my shield! It must’ve poofed when I used that giant bubble! We have to run! Let’s just go east and maybe be gems will find me! My friend Garnet has future vision! She can save us!” He says, and starts running.
Upon hearing his trust in garnet, Ruby realized their predicament long before he did. Garnet wasn’t coming to save them.
“Steven!” She yelled, and he looked back. She hadn’t moved an inch.
She could see he was trembling and cold, as the wind blew around them. Telling him Garnet was gone would make him lose all hope, and there’s no way they’d make it trying to just run away with Steven being so tired.
She pumps herself up and yells with sheer determination, “We can beat it! We just have to try!”
He shook his head, “I already tried! I failed! There’s no way we can-”
“But this time you have help! We can do it!” She gestured to him and herself. “You just need to not give up! Isn’t that what a crystal gem is?!”
Steven looked at the monster, and felt the pain on his back. He knew just as much that running away wouldn’t work. And he searched for a way to get the monster trapped or maybe even poofed, anything at all, and then he remembered the snow. And he looked up to the mountains around him and one of them had a big slab that jutted out, holding a nice piece of jagged ice, with snow on top, hanging off of the edge. It was perfect for his plan. He mustered up his courage, and took a deep breath.
“Ruby! I’ll distract the monster and lead him under that rock,” he points her to the ice, and exclaims, “You gotta melt the ice so it’ll fall on it!”
“Right!” Ruby yells, surveying the mountain herself. They begin their attack. Ruby used her gauntlet to crush holes in the mountain wall, to be able to make her way to the top. Meanwhile, Steven didn’t have to grab more blue stuff since that monster was already angry at him. And it begun its chase.
He threw some shields down into the ground to act as obstacles and walls for the monster to have to get around, and realized that he could trap it if he could make that bubble he had before in shape of a shield. Steven dug deep to try and find out how to make a bubble again. He ran and thought and ended up making more shields, depleting more and more of his energy. And when ruby finally got up to the top of the mountain where the ice was, Steven was literally out of breath and he ended up finally making a bubble for himself in desperation, to stop from getting hit by the monster.
Steven saw that both he and the monster were under the ice and he just needed to keep it there for a few seconds. The monster moved like a snake and began to curl itself around Steven to pop the bubble he was in.
“RUBY, NOW!” He yells and Ruby jumps, slamming her gauntlet down in a scream of fiery rage, cracking it off at the perfect moment for the ice block fall, and Steven tried to roll away somehow, but the coiling monster popped the bubble.
Steven had no more energy left and the monster wrapped Steven on the end of it’s tail, staring him straight in the face. But it noticed the ice coming to crush them both and as if it wanted to keep Steven alive, it whipped Steven away from the crashing ice, knocking his front against one of the mountains. The monster screamed as the ice pierced it and it poofed almost immediately. Ruby, still at the top of the mountain cheered with joy, and hopped back down, “We did it, Steven! We actually did it! I can’t believe...” and she stops chanting, seeing Steven, who doesn’t look conscious, or in any good condition. She runs over to him, feeling terrible, and she doesn’t know what to do.
“There you are!” Is heard from behind her. It’s Pearl and Amethyst.
“Steven?! What happened!!??” Pearl asks, but Amethyst cuts in, “ it doesn’t matter!! We need to get him to rose’s fountain right now!!”
Pearl cradles Steven in her arms, “will it even work?” And Amethyst, who’s seen all to well when a human is injured from her times as a wrestler, nods, “it has to!”
Ruby starts to cry, “This is all my fault” and Amethyst reassures her, “Everything’s gonna be okay, Steven’s gonna pull through just fine! Now hurry, back to the base! We need to get him to the fountain before anything else bad happens!”
Ruby and Pearl make their way back, quickly, as pearl gracefully manages to jump easily over the mountains, and Amethyst stays behind, noticing the shine of something reflecting off the snow, the gem, it was the one from their mission, “They actually poofed it?!!”
Sapphire meets up with Ruby again, as the gems make it back to the warp of the fountain as they inch closer, sapphire starts talking, “I’m sorry, Ruby. I should have listened—“ but ruby just hugs sapphire tightly, holding in her tears.
“I’m sorry that we didn’t think to work this out together. Steven might not have gotten hurt if you and I had just listened to eachother in the first place.”
Sapphire smiles, with a tear down her eye, “you took the words right out of my mouth!” And they share a sweet kiss before ruby continues,“Steven’s not a normal kid. He understands the “severity” of these missions.” and sapphire’s like, “you’re right, dear. My vision was clouded by what I thought he’d do if he had been acting on the instincts of his youth, but through you I can see that his childlike charm isn’t always going to show. I understand now” and they hug and ruby spins sapphire around, and they fuse back into garnet, but this time, they won’t make the same mistakes.
They reach the fountain and Pearl gently rests Steven into the water, to heal him. And he floats under the water, as rose had always said, fully submerging what you need healed was the best approach. Amethyst manages to make it with greg and Connie just in time as well, and at first, nothing happens, and the water around him turns ever so slightly redder, and everyone waits. Connie hides her tears, crying into Greg’s shirt, as they all feared the worst, but then the water around him began to glow, and Greg says, “wait look!” And she turns to see his wounds magically healing. She let go of Greg’s shirt and came closer to the fountain, and steven opened his eyes and coughed, swimming back up to the top to breathe. Connie cheered, jumping into the pool with him, and giving him a big hug as he regained his senses, “what happened?”
“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Connie exclaimed.
Greg was also teared up, and he answers, “we thought we lost you there, kiddo”. And Greg goes down to give steven a hug and kiss.
Steven smiles, “Did we win? Did we defeat the monster?!
Pearl looks at garnet in a bit of confusion as ruby basically forgot the gemstone. But amethyst smiles, “yep! Got it right here!” Garnet wiped her eyes and gave pearl a hug, and Steven smiles, then remembers earlier, and he apologizes for his actions.
Connie and Greg were just happy to see him okay, and told him as such, and Amethyst applauded him for his efforts. While Pearl also apologized for not giving him a chance.
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. For now, let’s get you home to rest,” Garnet smiles.
The next day, where steven’s at home still recovering mentally, Garnet comes into the room through the warp pad.
Steven notices her entrance, “Garnet... I wanted to talk to you!” He says, and she nods, coming over to sit on the edge of his bed with him.
“I wanted to say.. you were right. I really was too young to deal with all that mission stuff. All that mapping, and the strategizing, and the snow! I was underprepared... I shouldn’t have doubted you. You were just looking out for me. You didn’t want me to get hurt. I’m sorry.”
Garnet shakes her head, taking off her glasses to look at him,“Steven, I’m sorry. I know you feel I was right, but the truth is, I was wrong.”
“What?! B-but you have future vision! I was being stubborn! There’s no way you were wrong!”
Garnet let out a chuckle, “There’s more to it than that. I was at war with myself. I didn’t want to believe you were capable of something like this. I was only seeing you as a child, and because of that, I was only able to see you in grave danger if you joined us. But that was wrong. If I had allowed you with us, everything would have turned out okay. For you, for me, for the rest of the gems. But I still refused to believe that you had changed. That you were capable of change. You’re growing up. And I’m so proud of how you’re coming along. Thank you, Steven. You’ve shown me that I too can change.”
Steven‘s heart warms, and he smiles up at her, “yer welcome,” and they share a big hug.
“Wait!!,” he stops. What happened to that Ruby I met?! Did you see her?? Is she okay?!”
garnet’s laughs, “She’s just fine Steven. She went home!” And Steven smiles,“I’m glad she did.”
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slytherin-puffskein · 5 years
Text
Cinderella
« Au douzième coup de minuit, le charme sera rompu, et tout redeviendra comme avant. »
[ At the stroke of midnight, the spell will be broken, and everything will be as before. ]
In this twisted version of the popular fairy tale, a very special mission is given to young peasant Laurent King, by an even more special individual. A smile on her blood coloured lips, the Fairy Godmother orders him to go and kill the Prince.
Inspired from this song
-
Though I’m dancing in a dream, nothing is quite as it seems Everything will disappear at midnight’s chime Fingers calling me away, there’s no room to be afraid Down the winding staircase I take three steps at a time...
-
Everything feels hazy and blurry around Laurent, and he can barely make out his surroundings. The dagger stuffed deep inside his inner pocket, he bites on his lip, unsure of what to do once he arrives
( easy mission ? Yeah, didn’t think so. That Fairy surely sugarcoated a lot of things )
But no matter how crude she could have made it sound instead, he would have accepted anyway. Royalty is society’s flea, and if he had the opportunity to get rid of it, then so be it.
As he nears the castle in his beautiful, silvery carriage, he can’t help but shiver, and when the guards gesture him to follow them, he does, doing his best to ignore his heart slamming against his chest.
( why would I feel conflicted about this ? )
-
Beyond the carriage door, I saw you trembling Won’t you please set aside the burdens of life and come with me to the dance ?
-
Barnaby Lee is observing as guests make their way inside, and he easily spots the silver carriage pulled by beautiful white horses.
( so beautiful, they almost feel like straight out of the most creative child’s dreams )
Inside, he spots a shaky figure, and doesn’t think much of it. After all, this is a ball. Obviously a lot of people feel anxious.
-
“Search and find the one who has wronged us.” Your whispered words are still echoing I grip even tighter the weapon held in my hands as I plot to bring your ending Slowly all the orphans are gathering under my watch behind my smiling mask And I, as the seraph, welcome them in my wings, as I play the role of saviour
-
Laurent King can still think of the ( w i t c h ) Godmother’s words. ‘Look for him, think of all the things his family did, and finish him at last’
The Lee Royal family couldn’t be considered as the best. Not with the current King, who could only be described as a bloodthirsty tyrant who would do everything in his power to reach his goals.
Rumour is, he got people executed for not sharing his ideologies.
Luckily, Laurent had learned how to lay low, and how to go unnoticed. Like that, no way he would get hanged for hating the monarchy.
Nervously, he feels through his pocket the weapon sheathed inside, and finds himself letting out a sigh of relief. With that, he almost considers himself as invincible. He just needs to get the prince away from everyone, and quietly do his business. Quietly, Laurent steps into the ballroom at last, and stares at all of the guests and their false expressions of happiness. In all honesty, they probably all hate the King as much as Lau, but simply want to enjoy a good time as well as some dancing, so they pretend to like him.
And in the middle of all these guests, stands the Prince, bowing gently at people and seemingly complimenting them, a charming smile on his face.
( Pft. You probably only see them as rats that need to disappear. How hypocritical )
-
Melting down to flakes of ash, Within a crimson glow Your slipper made of glass
-
Shoes with bits of glass. The Fairy said it was charming. Lau would rather say they looked terrible... but if it was going to please the Prince and ultimately make him trust him, then he can endure wearing an ugly pair of shoes.
Like a snake, he circles around his prey, thinking of the best way to speak to him, to lure him. An elaborate red mask on his face, it will be quite easy for the Prince to notice him. A few guests decided to wear masks as well for show, but none of them stand out as much as Laurent’s.
Eventually, it works. He is noticed. Barnaby sees the weak glint of his shoes, and smiles at him before bowing and taking his hand to kiss it.
( Ew )
“You look good, sir !”
“You said that to everyone”
He couldn’t help that snarky reply. Barnaby blushes briefly, and attempts to gather himself.
“Yeah, but... you deserve that compliment. I’ve never seen such a beautiful outfit, wow !”
A blood red vest, an ivory white shirt, he almost looks like a white rose. A white rose, somehow covered in blood.
( Prelude to what might soon happen, perhaps ? )
“Well, thank you, I supp-”
“May I have this dance ?”
Barnaby himself hadn’t planned to ask this, and once he says those words, he immediately turns paper white as he thinks of what his father might think of this.
( ‘You ? Dancing with a mere commoner ? Ri-di-cu-lous !’ )
However, Lau sees in this the perfect opportunity to carry out his plan, and nods while forcing a smile.
“Gladly, your Royal Highness”
A blush creeps across Barnaby’s face as he nervously wraps an arm around Lau’s waist, dragging him into a waltz.
“Oh p-please, just call me Barnaby. All those titles give me a headache...”
“Shouldn’t you be used to them by now ?”
Despite the mission he has, he can’t help but feel curious, and Barnaby only shrugs.
“I suppose... but... I never really asked to be a Prince, you know ?”
Sometimes, the Castle just doesn’t feels right for him... and Lau raises an eyebrow as Barnaby makes him twirl.
( Whoever taught him how to dance is an extremely good teacher )
“Still, with the privileges you have, I wouldn’t be whining if I were at your place”
The fortune Barnaby owns must be unimaginable, and Lau couldn’t even dare consider owning that much money. Swiftly, he finds himself against Barnaby’s chest once again.
“Yeah, but... it’s like there’s a wall between me and the rest of the kingdom, you know ?”
( Why am I confiding to a stranger !? Why am I telling all of this ? Father will sooo kill me )
And yet... talking to his guy with fiery hair is so thrilling, it feels as if magnets were embedded into their chests, and they had to be near each other at this moment.
( Destiny, perhaps ? )
“Hm... I’ve never considered it that way” Laurent admits.
“Yeah ! And the kingdom hates me for things my father did... I swear, I’m going to reform the government as soon as I take the throne ! You have my word - !”
He suddenly stops, and Lau can’t help but stare at the prince with wide eyes.
( Maybe my judgement was false ? )
“Forgive me, I’m not sure I got your name... ?” Barnaby asks at last.
Laurent bites on his lip, softly...
“Call me Dorian”
-
I must take my leave right now. I am shaking up and down Though I catch you glancing over at the clock... Shoes no longer on my feet - the slope is much too slippery But my fingers reach around your neck ‘fore I can stop
-
( I can’t do this )
( I cannot )
( It’s impossible )
( STOP IT ! )
After dancing, and talking, and dancing again, and talking again, they manage to sneak out of the ballroom, and eventually successfully arrive in Barnaby’s chambers. As they stand on the balcony, chatting and stargazing, Lau’s conflicted heart slams against his chest as he tries to figure out what to do.
He can feel the dagger press against his sides.
His mouth feels parched, his throat seems to be lined with blood.
By talking to the Prince, he discovered a whole different person from the one he had pictured himself. He wasn’t an exact copy of his ruthless father, not at all. He found a kind, understanding young man who only wanted the best for his people.
( And I have to kill him )
Why ? Why would the 
w i t c h  
Fairy Godmother want this ? What happened between her and the Royal Family ? Lau clears his throat before speaking.
“I should leave, Barnaby. It’s getting late...”
Close to midnight, in fact.
( ‘By midnight, my boy, the spell will no longer be under effect. Be home by midnight, and wash the blood off your clothes ! )
Barnaby reaches for Laurent, but the latter slides away, hugging himself for warmth... and comfort.
“I really have to go, Barnaby...”
But before he can order himself to leave at once, he throws his arms around Barnaby’s neck, pulling him into a deep embrace as tears trickle down his reddened face.
-
I kiss the falling tears that slip from your eyes And at that very moment I felt a shiver running through deep inside
-
Gently, Barnaby hugs him back, and musters up enough courage to kiss his tears away.
Immediately, a shiver runs down his spine, as a small voice whispers into his mind:
Run.
He doesn’t follow that piece of advice. Instead, he looks at the man pressed against him, and reaches for the mask’s strings.
Slowly unties them.
And lets the mask fall to the floor, revealing the most beautiful man Barnaby had ever seen, with freckles easily comparable to stars during a night’s sky.
“Beautiful...” he whispers faintly.
Neither of them knows who kisses the other first.
-
Please don’t let the bells sound for midnight, I find myself bowing down to you Although I am screaming “Don’t do it !” my right hand slips, bidding you goodbye forever You, who bears the air of such a princess, wearing the smoke of gunshots on your eyes My frozen facade was no match against your fire, and I felt it piercing through the ice
-
Soon midnight.
Please don’t let it be midnight.
( please )
Lau slowly pulls away from the kiss, no matter how bad he wants to keep going, and gently bows down to the prince, grabbing his mask and sliding it back on his face, tying the strings.
“I really have to go, Barnaby”
( Maybe if I just don’t do it, everything will be alright. The Fairy will find someone else to do her dirty work... or she’ll do it herself. Either way, I wouldn’t be dragged back into this story. Not anymore )
The Prince pouts, but nods anyway, as understanding as usual.
“Alright... but I’ll see you again, right ? Right ? We can meet up somewhere, I’ll try to not get recognized by other people, maybe wear a cloak or something, and we’ll spend some time together !”
And a smile curls up Lau’s lips as he nods.
“That... sounds very nice, actually”
( No it’s NOT. GO. GO, RIGHT NOW )
Barnaby smiles. The most loveliest smile, from the most handsome guy Laurent had seen.
“Alright then... but at least let me walk you back to your ca-”
( DO NOT DISOBEY ME )
The witch’s words suddenly ring inside of Lau’s ears, almost piercing his brain. Before he can realize what is happening, his right hand suddenly reaches for the dagger inside of his pocket, clutching it and
( NO !!!! )
plunging the blade through Barnaby Lee’s chest.
And at last, realization of what he just did dawns on him.
-
Even right now I can hear your breathing ring in my ears Pulling my heartstrings like a distant dream Down through the stained glass windows panes, the light from the moon Drapes on your shoulders like a veil
-
Everything in Barnaby’s mind stops.
His sole focus is the man standing in front of him.
He can barely care about the dagger digging through his chest.
He can only see Dorian Lau’s eyes. Beautiful brown.
Brown, a colour which can look like dried off blood.
Blood, trickling down Barnaby’s chest and darkening his clothes. Heavily, he falls on his knees, and Lau is quick to do the same, his fingers still wrapped around the golden hilt.
And despite what he just did, with the moonlight shedding on him, he looks as beautiful as ever.
-
Tear away the dress that I’m wearing - this tiara was not meant for me All that I can feel now as your eyes stare into mine is the fire in me burning Our two souls, alike in seclusion, and now they’ve found each other’s company But if I am not the one who will stop your tears, then it’s all a one-sided story
-
Barnaby’s lidded eyes stare at Lau’s. He’s still breathing. Not for long, however. Soon enough, he will release his last breath, and leave this oh so cruel world.
Lau finally manages to let go of the dagger, letting it stick out of Barnaby’s chest.
Silence reigns between the two. But strangely enough, Barnaby has enough strength to reach for Lau’s mask... and the redhead immediately understands. He unties it, and discards it before cupping Barnaby’s face, making him look at him.
Green eyes.
Like the leaves of a flower that will soon wilt.
“I’m sorry...” he whispers.
A heavy lump forms itself in his throat, and he is dangerously close to sob.
“I-I had to... I had to...”
“I understand”
And the Prince smiles faintly at him, before letting himself fall to the floor.
-
Stop the time at this very instant, I am completely drawn into you If God will have mercy then let me please stay right there, as I count your every heartbeat Overwhelmed by rushing emotions, I’m left to drown within this spreading warmth From this moment on my body will move no more... it is all just like a fairytale
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glasses
Really quick and messy Fae AU ficlet with Phoenix and Ema, written in about an hour and a half, trying to get myself back into the swing of the AU.
On the sixteenth of April, a box arrives at the Wright & Co. Law Offices.
Phoenix is suspicious of it, because Phoenix is suspicious of most things. It makes life in Los Angeles easier to trust nothing and no one, a conclusion Phoenix came to the hard way and has remained true to since. He examines the box on the doorstep without touching it; seeing no enchantments or curses and a European return address, he gingerly carries it inside and sets it on the coffee table.
(He would be much more suspicious if it came from anywhere in the LA area, because this is the hotbed and haven of the Court, and Phoenix inextricably tied to its royal family, Maya with her rows of sharks’ teeth and Pearl’s opalescent shiny skin, Iris insubstantial like ash and Mia and Dahlia who Phoenix does not know what they looked like beneath glamour. There’s a second Court, Maya says, one that her family once split from, somewhere in the Himalayas, but she doesn’t know more about it or worry more about it than that, so Phoenix filed the information away in the back of his mind to remember if he ever meets someone or receives something strange from that part of Asia. But Europe does not fall in the area of his suspicious -- Europe was home to Miles Edgeworth and Franziska von Karma, the two most solidly grounded people in Phoenix’s life, the two who look the same no matter what set of eyes he looks at them through.)
He cuts open the box and finds on top a letter, and beneath that, four Swiss chocolate bars that do not necessitate this box that is half again their length and deeper than them all stacked. The letter is written on lined paper torn from a notebook, the curly torn edge still attached.
Mr. Wright, it reads, and he almost recognizes the handwriting, a messy, loopy, child’s scrawl, and a quick run-down of his tiny circle of acquaintances and who among them are based in Europe lands him on the identity of the sender.
I lost the password for and got locked out of the email that I gave you back when, and I’d lost yours, so I had to snail mail but thought maybe it’s better for me to give you a box to start.
Phoenix sits down on the couch. There’s a few pages folded together.
Anyway I was home for vacation/as a translator for one of my professors - I get a scholarship for it! Sorry I didn’t get to see you. Didn’t have time, but I got to investigate a bit with Mr. Edgeworth. He seems to be doing good. I don’t know how much you talk. I helped him and his assistant on a couple cases and saw Detective Gumshoe too. It’s really helped my resolve to be a forensics investigator. (Sorry that I’ll be going up against you someday, but I’ve got to be on the prosecution’s side. I expect you to defend on all the cases I work on! It can be like a reunion.) Talking w Mr. Edgeworth’s assistant got me thinking, because she
Wait, his assistant? He has an assistant? It must be a new development -- in the past two months, since Phoenix last saw him. Ema can’t mean Franziska -- there’s no way Franziska would ever let a misconception like that take shape.
(Phoenix hasn’t spoken to Edgeworth since February. It’s probably time to reach back out.)
because she was talking about difficulties of what if there’s magic in the case that needs to be investigated. So I got an idea when we were talking about Luminol, and I was thinking about you and your magatama.
Phoenix does not like where this is going.
If it’s not too much trouble, can you get two magatama and mail them to me? I looked at mail rules and stuff and there’s no regulations about sending magical objects in the mail, I couldn’t find. You told me they weren’t particularly hard to make and the price shouldn’t be too steep, but you’re a lawyer and good with deals and contracts and I’m not so much. I didn’t think I should risk contacting anyone myself. I didn’t think you’d be happy about that. I need these to further the cause of science. You’ll be a great help. I can site cite you as my research assistant if I publish any papers on it. (The chocolate is not a bribe. I thought you might like it.) Sincerely, Ema Skye PS I have a new email
In spite of it, Phoenix laughs. “Oh, Ema,” he sighs, shaking his head, and then he glances quickly behind himself, because he feels like something or someone is at his shoulder. The office is empty, because of course it is, but he knows Mia would be interested, and definitely once she heard Ema’s name. 
He does admire Ema’s tenacity, and her enthusiasm, and that she’s at least mindful enough to know that she shouldn’t go out-of-the-blue trying to summon one of the fae to get a stash of magatama. (And that apparently part of her litmus is whether Phoenix would be disappointed in her.)
Taking the last page of the letter with him, he goes over to Mia’s desk and boots up the computer. It’s slow, but he has no inclination to get a new one. He’ll use it until it explodes. His money can be better put to other things, like groceries. He doesn’t use it enough to make a new one a worthwhile investment.
He pulls up a new email window and plugs in Ema’s address.
Ema, What exactly do you want two magatama for? I’m not going to consider anything without knowing what your plan is and advising you on whether it’s dangerous. -Phoenix
He waters Charley and picks a few pens up off the floor -- he doesn’t remember dropping them and not picking them back up and wonders if Maya appears in the night to scatter things -- and when he gets back to the desk he already has a response.
Mr. Wright. I think I have an ingenius solution for most investigators not having the sight. I’m going to mount hte magatama on a glasses frame for hands free investigating. I also want to see if I can use sandpaper/shop tools to cut open the hole in the center so it’s easier to see thru. I want to know if the exact shape of the magatama is important for its magical prowess and if it loses its power if parts of it are cut off. I think four might actually be a better number for the first batch. It gives me room to mess up. Thanks, Ema
Phoenix rubs his eyes and feels a headache approaching.
If you were going to try modifying it I wouldn’t recommend using anything metal, even if it’s not iron. Sandpaper would take longer but less risk of a bad reaction. But also, no.
It’s a really interesting question, actually, and Phoenix suddenly, badly, wants to know the answer, but he can’t condone the risk. Ema might draw attention to herself with the magatama, by altering them, or worse, attention from someone that wasn’t Maya or Pearl (because they are the only ones Phoenix would ask for a magatama) by her closer proximity to the Himalayas than Kurain. Or worse, she might succeed in making the glasses, wear them, and See things she shouldn’t and acquire bad attention that way. It’s rude to stare at the fae through a magatama -- the one rule for trying is don’t get caught which is difficult when it’s such an obvious and blatant motion -- and he fears that while there are no rules for a subtle magatama, one that doesn’t look it, the result might be even worse. Not only would she be staring, but Ema would also be trying to hide it, to get away with something she shouldn’t.
(It’s just scientific curiosity, he knows, nothing she means to be harmful, but They might not see it that way.)
Please, Mr Wright, it’s science! It’s important! Don’t you want to know? I’ll just take one to start with. It could really help our justice system and make sure that even magic isn’t above the law and isn’t getting away with crime.
He puts his head in his hands. God, Ema’s probably eighteen, now, isn’t she? She’s probably too old for him to petition to legally adopt her and bring her back to LA to keep an eye on her. Her extended family probably wouldn’t stand for it, anyway. He wonders what Lana would think.
I think it’s a clever idea, but too risky for you. I don’t want to see you getting hurt or locked in a bad deal or ending up like me. Promise me you won’t try and get any magatama yourself.
Mia likes to bind promises made in this office, make them stay true, and Phoenix wonders if that will work when one of them isn’t here, when Ema is on another continent, when Phoenix asks for the promise in electronic words. This isn’t honest of him, to try and lock her with magic into a promise, and for your own good is a slippery slope where naught but ash and bones lie at the bottom.
But Phoenix also spent a year living with my fault a mantra beating in his head, telling him that chosen death was my fault, and he was the one to introduce Ema to magic, to magatamas, to Sighted eyes, and if in investigating that she gets in over her head —
My fault.
He reads over his email again, after sending it, after he can’t take back the words, and it surprised him how much of his heart he laid out. I don’t want to see you ending up like me. He’s thought that, at Ema and Edgeworth and Franziska, but never said it. It’s easier for that sentiment to escape through his fingers than from his lips.
(He should try emailing Edgeworth but is afraid of what he might find himself able to say.)
Okay, okay, geez. You’re really serious on this. I like my soul where it is, tho, you don’t need to worry about that. I’m not gonna give it up for a science experiment but once I’m home and a real forensic scientist I’m coming to your office and hitting you up for this experiment because I still think it’s really important even if you’re gonna be an old fuddy about it.
No one’s ever accused him of being old before, though admittedly he thinks that being old is a blessing he won’t actually ever be afforded.
Good, good. So how’s school going? What were the cases you investigated with Edgeworth about? I didn’t know he had an assistant.
She probably knows this is a clumsy redirect, something to distract her, and she doesn’t respond until the next day — he thinks she’s mad at her until she sends back a novel-length response detailing the specifics of the crime scenes, evidence discovered, culprits, and methods.
In the next few days it’s suddenly much, much harder to keep a normal conversation going, to avail himself of anything but puzzling out the indistinct pieces of the Gramarye case that has left him unmoored and adrift, but the sporadic times he does manage to keep responding to Ema, he doesn’t mention it.
She probably knows the Gramarye name — everyone in LA does, the local coven like cryptids who appear when desperately needed to cut little dangerous deals. And if he mentions Gramarye she’s probably going to think magic crime and she’s going to return to the thought of the glasses —
Safer to keep her separate from that. Safer to keep everyone separate from that.
He only learns from Apollo and Trucy that she’s returned to the States, is working down at the precinct and on crime scenes now.
She doesn’t appear on his doorstep to bug him for a magatama.
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davidchill · 5 years
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This Is My Truth - The Final Blog (For Now)
After over ten years of writing a personal blog I feel that now would be a good time to wrap things up. I’m sure I’ll still write blogs from time-to-time, but they’ll be a completely different animal to this curious beast.
Social media has changed an awful lot over the years. As I scroll through my timeline this morning all I see are snappy memes, gifs, people arguing with strangers about the perils of Brexit, and sponsored posts based on my browsing habits.
Another thing that’s changed is how people engage and interact with others. Over the years I’ve seen friends who appeared to be warm and affable suddenly go stone cold and aloof, virtually overnight. Typed communication can often be misinterpreted or misconstrued, and I have, on a few occasions, tried to strike up friendships with people who I’ve genuinely liked, only for their shields to go up - and I watch them vanish at warp speed.
The truth has always been important to me - so when people lie in order to make their lives easier I find myself distancing myself from them so they don’t need to lie anymore. But I can’t judge anyone. Lying is easy. Anyone can lie. How many lies have got people out of awkward social situations without damaging the friendship? Thousands, I would imagine. The truth is much harder to swallow at times. So if you’ve found this blog to be a difficult read then that’s certainly not a bad thing.
Of course, a few “friends” haven’t stayed the course, and opted to “unfriend” or “unfollow” me on social media for posting “too many dog photos” or “too many blogs on mental health”. Well… all I can offer here is my “sperm” analogy…
“Out of the approximately 1,000 sperm that enter the fallopian tube, only about 200 reach the egg. The rest get attached to the lining of the oviduct, or just give out and die. Out of the approximately 200 sperm that reach the egg, only one fertilizes the egg.”
If you’ve stuck by me on Facebook during the most turbulent period of my life (between 2014 and the present day) then consider yourself a healthy sperm. The others might resurface in a few years when everything in my life is hunky-dory and say “Is it safe to be your friend again?” but they have no chance of reaching the egg.
In this case the “egg” is a metaphor for my “circle of trust”.
Friends don’t fall off the radar when you struggle with your mental health, and nor do they sit back and watch you struggle financially when they *could* throw you a bone. Oh, and they certainly don’t walk away when you share anecdotes about your dog.
So if you are still with me - thank you. And if you’re sitting comfortably then let’s begin...
Keeping the Faith
For much of my adult life I never had a huge amount of faith in myself. Too many crushing doubts played on my mind as to what role I had in this world - or even if I had a part to play. My creative abilities were certainly brought into question, as I lie awake at night wondering when people would wake up and give me the same amount of judgement and scrutiny that I subjected myself to on a daily basis.
Despite a very happy home life I was a prime target for the school bullies - thanks to a winning combination of ginger hair and small, round head - so it’s hardly surprising that I entered adulthood with several insecurities and a huge chip on my shoulder. Children can be cruel and wretched creatures at times. Snotty-nosed brats.
Throughout college I drew comic strips at every available opportunity and was always genuinely flabbergasted when my peers told me how talented and gifted I was - and how much they loved my sense of humour. Well, my written word - as I was practically mute in those days. “You’d be funny if you spoke!” commented one guy.
While most of the students gallivanted off to university I chose not to pursue further education and opted to get a “real” job in order to feed my comic book addiction. So for the next six or seven years I took on a variety of roles… packing plastic, kennel hand, factory worker.
I’m not sure what my parents thought of me coming home covered in dog poo and toner dust - but my duties were the perfect cover for an artistic creative soul who had zero faith in his abilities. I couldn’t fail.
Unfortunately my cover was blown in 1998 when my line manager insisted on promoting me to “champion operator” - a job that involved assembly work, but also gave me the opportunity to walk around with a bit of paper and use the new fangled “e-mail” system that was becoming popular in the workplace. “What is this wizardry?” I asked myself, as I bluffed my way through the job.
It was during this time that I was asked to give a PowerPoint presentation to an office full of co-workers and the type of senior management you’d cross the street to avoid if you saw them out shopping on a Saturday morning. When the CEO gave his feedback on the presentations he threw the spotlight on me and said; “David, I thought you were excellent.”
Swine. “I’m a fraud I tell you!” (I didn’t actually say that out loud)
Thankfully, just before my head expanded to dangerous levels of self belief I was made redundant from the position. This was no reflection on me - the whole company went under. Nothing to do with my “excellent” presentation skills or the time I spent walking around with a bit of paper.
The following year I was inflicted with a condition called spasmodic torticollis and forced to take three months off work. In English; I suffered with a severe muscle spasm in my neck. As a result, my chin was permanently touching my shoulder and only lying down made me feel “normal”. We didn’t have box sets to lift the mood in those days, so it was an extremely dark chapter in my life. I was pumped full of valium, I couldn’t drive or walk the dog, and my mother had to chop my food up for me.
Eventually, after a series of tests, the consultant told me I’d have to have injections in my neck - but this wouldn’t guarantee success. Truth be told I became very low and depressed - but, with the support of my friends and family, I got through each day. One of my church friends even picked me up, took me to church, and prayed for me. This wasn’t like my “last rites” or anything, I hasten to add.
One day, as I walked into town, all hunched up and averting eye contact - something very peculiar happened. My head wasn’t tilting to one side anymore and I found myself walking in a STRAIGHT line. “What is this hogwashery?!” I thought to myself. “I’m walking with my head in an upright position!”
The specialist who mooted the idea of injections then examined me, scratched his head, and concluded that I was some kind of weird “enigma”. Yes, it took three months of pain, frustration and fear to reach the conclusion that I was a bit odd. Blimey, I didn’t need to go through all that to work that one out.
The Slippery Slope
Several years later, and after being made redundant three times between 1998 and 2003, I was beginning to think I was cursed.
In 2006 I quit full-time employment and went down the “self-employed” route - mostly focusing on wedding websites for the subsequent eight years. On reflection that was far too long to spend on one endeavour, and a few close friends urged me to expand my portfolio. Again, I felt “safe” doing wedding websites, the money was coming in, and I didn’t want to run the risk of straying too far. However, I should have taken the advice given to Peter Davison when Patrick Troughton advised him to only play the Doctor for three years. Eight years is a very long time in the world of technological advances, and I became the Ken Barlow of wedding websites.
Looking back, it’s not surprising the work had a detrimental impact on my mental health. I poured my heart and soul into those blasted websites, and sometimes sat up until 3am to please my transatlantic Bridezillas. Sometimes Groomzillas. No, I didn’t *have* to, but when I take on a role I like to give it my all.
Unfortunately because my “office” was then based in my bedroom I could never “switch off” and those sites consumed me to a point where my anxiety and depression deepened. The line between business and pleasure just became far too blurred and it became a seven day week thing.
After all the stress of moving into my maisonette (and then buying the maisonette) I still found the websites to be an extremely negative factor in my mental health. Things got on top of me and I’d begin to procrastinate… put off tasks, until, eventually, I hit my brick wall. My dark place.
Enter Luna, the Staffordshire Bull Terrier X Akita, who took a lot of stick for being the author of my demise. No, she was merely the straw that broke the camels back.
Before I knew it, I lost my regular income after being told that my services were no longer required. Sadly, despite being told that my salary would be safe until January 2014, it was then slashed by £500 for two months on the trot. November and December, respectively.
Suddenly, I had this huge financial hole to fill… and a mortgage to pay. When you lose £1000 without sufficient forewarning then what do you do? No money from extra part-time work would have reached me in time - even if my mind had been “fit” to work. The anxiety just consumed me, and the mind starts imagining these highly unlikely scenarios… My neck condition might flare up again… I might lose the dog… I might lose my home.
Okay, that last one actually happened.
People often tell me that debt is a slippery slope that should be avoided at all costs. People who’ve never experienced debt to the extent that I did. My friends, I’ve taken to that slope. I’m the Eddie “the Eagle” Edwards of the slippery slope.
So yes, I know that debt begins very slowly... and it gradually creeps up on you… the £5 penalty charge on your emergency borrowing becomes £10, £15, £20… and then you’re late with the gas and electric bill… and then BOOM! You’ve lost your home and overzealous cleaners are pulling things off your wall as you struggle to pack everything into boxes.
I lost more that day than I can ever put into words, and I’ve hated myself for it ever since.
Yes, people made my life more difficult than it needed to be, and some people could have helped more - rather than just telling me it’d all be okay. But I lost everything because I lost faith in myself.
There’s No Guarantors
Today, eighteen months after losing my home, I’m sat here writing a business plan - and I find myself in this role reversal. Almost like a weird mirror universe from Star Trek. Suddenly, for perhaps the first time in my life, I have faith in myself - but others are doubting my judgement, or have very little faith in my abilities.
Whenever I hear that someone has been awarded a business loan I punch the air [on their behalf]. Even if it’s someone on Twitter who I don’t know very well - I always make a point of congratulating them and wishing them well in their new endeavour. Or endeavor if they’re American.
With me, I expect a few would question if I knew what I was doing.
Not that I was awarded a business loan, but I came very close. Honestly, my heart sank when Eugene (the guy from the bank) uttered the words “We just need your guarantor…”
Guarantor? Me? Find a guarantor? He might as well have asked me to find the hair of a Sasquatch, a stool sample of a dodo, and the DNA of William the Conqueror.
“Hey, dear,” says a friend, turning to his partner. “David C. Hill is looking for a guarantor for his business loan. You in?” “The same David C. Hill with the anxiety issues?” “Yep.” “The same David C. Hill who had 5,000 comic books printed without testing the market?” “Yep.” “The same David C. Hill who lost his home after falling into a horrifying amount of debt?” “Yes, dear. You in?”
Yes, I had to ask… but of course I can’t blame anyone for not rising to the challenge.
My new bank friend, Eugene, then followed up with a phone call to assure me that the £10,000 funding would be granted if I could give him a name. So I looked at Luna, and for that brief moment her eyes just said “Don’t look at me!”
The “Homer Simpson” in me thought about seeing how far I could go with this guarantor lark. “John. My guarantor’s name is John. John Smith. His address? 12… Evergreen Terrace.”
Sadly, it’s going to be almost impossible for me to come back from that defeat of losing my home. That sort of thing sticks. It’s like I have “not good with money” or “dog who returns to his vomit” scrawled on my forehead. It’s akin to someone on a dodgy register trying to acquire a job as a school caretaker.
No, to paraphrase Tiffany, the pop goddess of 1987… “I think I’m alone now.”
People will argue that if my business plan was that convincing then I wouldn’t need a guarantor. However, these days banks are far more guarded when it comes to funding businesses. I don’t have any assets therefore I need someone with assets to have my back. My 27” iMac won’t cut the mustard as an asset.
Anyway, I’m sure most people can find a guarantor with relative ease. If a guarantor was such a ridiculous concept then requiring a guarantor wouldn’t even be a thing. According to the website, 98% of businesses are successfully funded. So I guess that places me in the 2% camp.
It’s been a week of bad news, and it would be so easy for me to slip into a depression and consume my body weight in wine gums. My car payment has just bounced and I have more rent due in ten days, and now I’m telling people that without funding my business can’t move forward.
I know the rich frown upon those who have to take out loans, and in the last few years I’ve seen the rich grow considerably richer. But I don’t think some people realise how rich they are, and how, if they need something, they can just go out and buy it - or ask their rich family to chip in. Of course most people have worked very hard for their wealth - but the majority of people do work very hard. I know at least two nurses who work for the NHS and they work exceptionally gruelling shifts. So one should never judge the rich - or the poor.
Yes, some people do inherit wealth or marry into rich families, so not all the rich work hard - and not everyone who’s poor works hard either. Sometimes ill-health doesn’t permit you to work long hours - and yes, lazy work shy fops do exist.
If I have to calumniate £5,000 or £10,000 worth of debt in order to make £20k then I’ll do it. All businesses need funding and we don’t all have savings to inject into our cashflow. People who don’t have debt a get bit sniffy about it, but there’s no shame in having manageable debt - and sometimes it’s a necessary evil.
Final Words
There’s always a way forward. Sometimes its not about working harder - it’s about working smarter. And I have enough faith in myself to know that I can work smarter. I’ll find a way forward, even if I do have to accrue debt - even if I have to march into hell for a heavenly cause. People will call me batcrap crazy, and people will cast doubt on me, but that’s to be expected. Life is very short, memories are very precious, and sometimes those of us who want to achieve our goals need to take calculated risks.
My greatest fear is losing faith in myself - because that will be the day that I die. But that’s never going to happen. I mean losing faith in myself - I fully except to die one day! I’m not Connor MacLeod, Mister Immortal, or Captain Jack Harkness.
Thank you to those who have helped me over the last few years - and those who continue to support my work. Make no mistake, when I’m rich I’m not going to live in a huge castle, pull up the drawbridge and yell “Let them eat cake!”. I’m going to live in a modest dwelling and help those who have helped me in the past.
That’s my guarantee.
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Wildfire - Derek Hale x Reader
Summary: Derek doesn’t know how to process discovering that (y/n) is his mate.
Pairing: Derek Hale x Female Reader
A/N: Inspired by Wildfire by Seafret, you can listen to it here.
Thanks to @agirlwithpointlessideas for all of her wonderful help!
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“Mates?” Derek stared at the veterinarian completely dumbfounded, his mind racing as he tried to comprehend what Deaton had just said.
“Yes, you’re each other’s mates. You were made to be together” His tone was calm as he observed the alpha, carefully watching his reaction.
“But we’re hardly even friends” Deaton sighed, resting his fists against the cool, metal examination table.
“Have you been hearing her heartbeat throughout the day, no matter how far apart you are? Have you been feeling the need to protect and provide for her? Have you-“
“Yes! Okay, I get it” Derek’s words rang around the consolation room as dread swirled in his stomach. How the hell was he going to tell (y/n)-someone who he rarely spent time with-that the universe had decided that they were made for one another and were destined to be together?
(Y/n) shivered as she made her way through Beacon Hills preserve, a new creature had been spotted around town and Scott thought it was hiding in the woods which naturally meant that the pack had to spend their evenings searching for it. She pulled her thin jacket across her chest, ducking her head as she braced herself against the wind. Derek seemed completely unfazed as he walked beside her. She glanced at him, her mind thinking back to how strangely he’d been acting recently. For the last couple of weeks, he’d avoided her entirely, groaning in disgust as he was paired with her to search the woods. He hadn’t said a word to her yet, instead, falling into a deep, brooding silence. His stare was settled straight ahead, not sparing her a second glance.
Derek was doing everything he could to not look at her. His wolf was crying out for him to hold her and cover her in his scent but he couldn’t. He wasn’t going to force her to be with him, especially when she wasn’t showing any signs of returning his feelings. Deaton had assured him that it was normal for a human to take longer to respond to the bond once it was triggered but she was nothing other than her usual happy self towards him. Derek allowed himself a moment of weakness, sneaking a glance to his side. His wolf howled in alarm when he saw her shivering. Derek didn’t stop to think before he was pulling his jacket off. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she watched him extend his arm and offer her his coat.
“I’m okay” Derek raised his eyebrows, clearly not believing her.
“You’re shivering, take it. I’ll be fine” She watched him for a moment before taking his jacket. Slipping it over her shoulders, she sighed in contentment as it engulfed her in warmth.
“Thank you” Her words were quiet and shy as if she was scared of aggravating him. Derek instantly felt guilty, he was being rude and he didn’t want her to suffer because he couldn’t control his feelings.
“So-uh-what do you think it is?” A small, pleased smile formed on her lips as she thought for a moment.
“I have no idea,” (Y/n) let out a quiet laugh “But I guess it’s not a wolf as you guys would be able to sense that, right?”
Derek was about to respond to her when he heard something rapidly approaching them. Without thinking, he moved in front of her, more than ready to shield her from whatever was coming towards them. He jumped in surprise when he felt her hand grasp his. Instinctively, he squeezed her hand in reassurance while he tried to ignore the waves of contentment rolling over him from her touch. His eyes darted across the expanse of trees in front of them, searching for the threat. Embarrassment flooded his veins when a deer ran past them. Bowing his head, he stepped away from her, reluctantly releasing her hand as they started to walk again.
“Sorry, false alarm” He kept his eyes trained on the floor.
“No problem, I’m glad you’re here with me. I don’t know what I would do if I was out here on my own” She offered him a sweet smile as she burrowed further into his jacket. Derek’s heart fluttered as he wondered whether that was a response to the mate bond, it was the first possible sign she’d shown and it was making his wolf go wild.
They fell into a comfortable silence as they made their way deeper into the woods, (y/n) eventually having to turn on her torch so they could see where they were going. She wasn’t paying attention as they walked, choosing to watch the stars littering the sky above them instead. It would’ve been fine if it hadn’t rained earlier in the day, making the ground slippery and waterlogged. As they walked down a small hill, her feet gave out from underneath her and she slipped down the muddy slope. Derek rushed to her side as an assortment of curses made their way past her lips.
“Where does it hurt?” (Y/n) flexed her wrists, testing for any sign of pain, when she found none she wiped her muddy hands on her jeans.
“My right ankle is a bit sore but-“ Before she could finish the rest of her sentence, Derek had scooped her into his arms. He ignored her shouts of protest as he abandoned their search and started to make his way back towards his jeep. He tried to appear calm but he was panicking, the thought of her being in pain terrified him and made him fasten his steps.
He set her down in the passenger seat of his car, turning her towards him slightly so he could reach her leg. (Y/n) watched as he gently touched her ankle, his eyes widening when he noticed the scrape running across it. Derek cursed under his breath before rushing to the boot of his car to find his first aid kit. His movements were frantic as he swiped an antiseptic wipe across her ankle. She called his name softly as he started to dress her ankle. He was so focused on taking care of her that he didn’t hear anything she was saying. (Y/n) reached forward, taking his face in her hands.
“Derek. Derek, look at me. I’m fine” Her eyes searched his as he pulled in a deep breath and pinched his eyes shut. Concern clouded her eyes, but she let her hands drop. He didn’t open his eyes, instead, he bowed his head while bracing himself against the door frame, effectively trapping her inside. “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”
Derek gave a slight shake of his head before stepping away from her and pulling deep breaths in through his mouth as he tried to clear his senses of her scent.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me” She hopped down from the raised seat, wincing as jolts of pain made their way down her ankle. Derek was by her side instantly, supporting her with an arm around her waist.
“It’s okay, you’re cute when you’re worried” His cheeks flushed red as she giggled softly. Leaning into his touch, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before hobbling back to the car. She hung her legs out of the car while Derek leant against the back doors.
“How long do you think the others will be?” She pulled his jacket tighter around her chest as she snuggled into the seat. He rounded the car, climbing inside and flicking the heater on.
“I have no idea but we might as well be warm while we wait”
The pack were shocked when they returned to the meeting point and found (y/n) and Derek in fits of laughter. After the two of them had calmed down, they all shared what little information they managed to gather before arranging to meet tomorrow evening at Derek’s loft for a pack meeting.  
(Y/n) reached to open her door so that she could get a lift with Stiles and Scott, but Derek stopped her, circling his hand lightly around her wrist.
“I’ll take you home” She was about to tell him that he didn’t have to when she realised she wanted to spend more time with him, even if it was only a ten-minute car journey. Relaxing back into her seat, she laughed softly as Derek started to tell her a story of how much trouble he and Laura got into when they were little and were still learning how to control their abilities. She savoured the moment, he hardly ever spoke about his family and if he did, he usually retreated into himself as he was overcome with grief. But in that moment, despite still feeling the pain of loss, Derek could relive the happy memories and share them with someone else - someone he hoped he would be able to share or even create more memories with.
As the weeks passed, (y/n) found herself spending more and more time at the loft, it became her safe haven, offering her an escape from the chaos of university and the pack’s problems. Derek never complained when she showed up, instead, opening the door wider and offering her a drink as she set her work on his table. Some days she got her work done, on others, she would chat with Derek while he prepared dinner for the two of them. Over time she got to know him, seeing behind the cold exterior he displayed to the world. Whenever she got to the loft, the stress of the day fell away and she felt safe, protected almost. Nothing bad could happen if Derek was there. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t developed a small (massive) crush during the time she was with him.
A result of spending time with him meant that she panicked whenever he got hurt.
Deaton had called her in the middle of one of her classes, telling her that Derek had been poisoned by some kind of wolfsbane. She didn’t stop to listen to whatever else he had to say, hanging up and rushing out of the classroom while offering her lecturer an apologetic smile.
She was breathless as she made her way into the clinic, bounding into the consultation room. Her heart stopped when she saw Derek lying motionless on the metal examination table. A shiver ran through her body, freezing her to her very core. She couldn’t breathe, her vision blurring as the possibility of losing Derek rushed through her mind. Deaton rushed to her side, reminding her to pull in deep breaths. He guided her to sit down, his eyes locking with hers as he brought her back to the present.
“Th-thank you” She struggled to get her words out as her eyes flickered to Derek and the panic returned just as quickly as it had left.
“(Y/n), he’ll be fine. I promise. He just needs a little time to come round” She nodded her head, missing the knowing look lingering in the veterinarian’s eyes. Standing on shaky legs, she dragged her chair towards Derek. She took hold of his hand, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. The touch brought her a sense of comfort as her eyes scanned his face for any sign of pain. Deaton rested his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it softly before leaving to check on the animals.
It took an hour for Derek to wake up, his eyes slowly fluttering open as his hand wrapped tightly around (y/n)’s. He tried to sit up, only to groan when the movement caused the room to spin.
“Easy, easy” As he relaxed back against the table, a small, smug smile made its way onto his face.
“You’re worried about me” She let out an exasperated sigh, throwing him a glare. Standing up, she ran her fingers through her hair.
“Of course I was worried! I got a call from Deaton in the middle of my class saying that you’d been poisoned by one of the most deadly kinds of wolfsbane and then when I get here you’re lying motionless on a table-“
Derek braced himself as he sat up and reached for her hand. “I’m okay-hey, look at me” When she reluctantly brought her eyes to his, he smiled at her softly before bringing her hand to rest above his heart. They both tried to ignore the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt as she visibly relaxed after feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her hand.
“How did you get poisoned?” As her hand slipped away from his chest he caught it in his own, entwining their fingers. A smile threatened to form on his face when he heard her heartbeat pick up.
“Must be new hunters in town, I was running in the woods when suddenly I was hit with an arrow. I barely made it here before I collapsed” Fear ran through her body as she thought of what might have happened if he hadn’t got to the clinic in time. Derek squeezed her hand softly. “I’m okay”
“I know, it’s just you’re my-you’re my,” She let out a sigh of aggravation as she struggled to find the right words. “You’re my Derek”
He tried desperately to ignore the trickle of hope that ran through him as he hung on every word she said. She tried to pull away from him, needing space to think, but he kept hold of her hand.
“I don’t know how to describe it Derek but I need you - whenever I’m without you I feel this emptiness like I’m missing something. But then when I’m with you, I feel safe and happy - happier than I am anywhere else”
“I love you too” She froze, her eyes locking with his. Slowly, a smile pulled at her cheeks while a blush spread across them. Derek pulled her closer, winding his arms around her waist. Her hands settled on his shoulders before threading through his hair.
“I love you” Her words were slow as her heart fluttered in her chest. She paused for a moment as she admired the smile resting on his face. “It feels stronger than that, like we’re bound together”
A content laugh bubbled in his chest, his arms pulling her impossibly closer. “We’re mates”
Her brow furrowed as she smiled at him. His hands dropped to her hips as he looked up at her. 
“We’re like the soulmates. It happens to werewolves, there’s someone we’re connected to - destined to be with”
She laughed softly, her eyes growing wide as she processed what he’d said. He joined her laughter as he rested their foreheads together. “Are you sure you want me because once we start making things,” He paused, embarrassment flooding his cheeks. “Uh-physical. There’s no going back, we’ll be connected for life”
Derek’s heart started to beat frantically as he watched a heartbreaking smile pull at her cheeks and make her eyes sparkle.
“Sounds good” He leant in closer, his lips brushing hers.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah” Their lips connected, their hearts seeming to beat in sync as (y/n) melted against his touch.
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godamnarmsrace · 7 years
Text
Happy Birthday Pauline!!!
So here is a little present for you I hope you like it and if not well...it’s the thought that counts...right?
Note: this is set in the future.
We Could Be Friends, Me and You
Six months ago.
Robert didn’t know what he was thinking - Okay, he knew, he was just pretty sure he was nuts. He was standing outside the garage, contemplating going inside to speak to Cain about Aaron’s nightmares. It had been three months since Aaron came home from prison and the bad dreams were still happening, just as regularly as they had when he’d first gotten released.
Robert was more than a little bit pissed at Aaron’s therapist. She seemed fairly useless, with only broad spectrum ideas on how to fix things, but his husband needed someone to talk to and at least she could be that for him.
“Why are you loitering on my property Sugden? Shouldn’t you be home, doing gross newlywed things to my nephew?” Cain said when he spotted Robert standing there.
Robert wasn’t about to back down or give up just because Cain was giving him the stink-eye. “I need to talk to you about Aaron he…”
“No,” Cain said, dismissing him before he could finish. Robert watched as Cain walked back into the garage and out of sight. He wasn’t afraid of Cain, he could totally do this. He was more afraid for Aaron, getting so stressed by the nightmares that he might hurt himself on purpose or from lack of sleep. “It’s important, it’s about his time in prison. He’s still having nightmares. Please, Cain, you must know I wouldn’t have come to you if it wasn’t bad,” Robert said, as he followed Cain into the garage.
“Worried about him messing with your beauty sleep?” Cain mocked, wiping his dirty hands on an even dirtier rag. It was distracting. Why would anybody bother?
Robert pulled himself out of his internal quest for logic and said “What? No, but he does keep trying to move into the spare room because he doesn’t want to keep waking me. I could not give two shits about losing sleep, I just want to sleep with my husband beside me and I am worried if this continues he might revert to self-harming. I’m already checking him every night for new marks. He knows what I’m doing and he’s humouring me for now, but Cain, we can’t keep this up. He’s hurting and I don’t know what to do.”
Cain just stood there for a minute, looking at Robert as if he was silently judging his entire existence. Cain pinched the bridge of his nose before letting out a deep sigh, the harsh gust of air illustrating his irritation.
“There’s this thing, that I did after getting out, that helped but it will only work if Aaron agrees to it. He must be committed to finding a solution out of it, otherwise, it is a waste of time,” Cain said, his words clipped and low as if to stave off the chance of anyone overhearing their conversation.
Robert knew better than to interrupt, he waited for Cain to continue.
“It’s call IRT, basically Aaron will need to write down all the details from his nightmares and then change the theme. Give the dream a new ending, write a joke, make him taller than his opponent, something to change the flow of the dream. The other thing he can try is to think about what he’d like to dream about instead. He needs to do this for about twenty minutes before falling asleep each night, to help break the negative thought processes surrounding those memories,” Cain explained. He turned back to his work clearly finished with Robert, it was an obvious banishment.
Five and a bit months ago.
Cain looked up from the engine he was pulling apart and let out a grunt, “Why are you here?”.
“I wanted to say thank you. The dream therapy thing you told me about, it seems to be working. Two weeks and only two nightmares. Both times instead of closing himself off to the outside world, Aaron has gotten up and written down the dreams, reworking them in his mind. So, thanks,” Robert said, unable to contain his gratitude. Aaron was starting to look and act like himself again and he knew it was an ongoing issue but at least now Aaron had a tool at his disposal that he could utilise, to take some of the sting away from his nightmares.
“His therapist should’ve suggested it,” Cain said, obviously not comfortable with Robert singing his praise.
“Yeah, well she isn’t very good but it was a struggle to get Aaron to agree in the first place and he needs someone to talk to,” Robert wished he’d known how hopeless she would be when they were looking for someone.
Cain gave him a look that just about screamed he thought that Robert was an idiot. “He has you to talk to.”
“Yeah, but what do I know? I don’t want to say the wrong thing and make things worse,” Robert argued, the last thing he wanted in the world was to make things hard for Aaron, when Aaron made every one of Robert’s days better just by existing.
“You don’t have to say anything Robert, just keep you’re your mouth shut and listen. Sometimes people just need to be heard. Why don’t you go practice that somewhere, far away from here?” Cain said, going back to his work, leaving Robert standing there his mind completely blown by the level of Cain’s insight.
 Three months ago.
“Are you fucking serious with this? I’m not your buddy or your friend. We are not going to bond and braid each other’s hair. You need to stop coming to me,” Cain said, throwing the spanner down into the toolbox at his feet when he saw Robert hovering once again. He stopped and reconsidered, “Is Aaron okay?”
“Yes, it’s just we’ve been fighting about…” Robert tried to explain, sure that if Cain would just hear him out he might have the perfect solution for all of Robert’s problems.
“Robert,” Cain all but snarled.
“Yeah?” Robert asked, trying not to seem too needy.
“I don’t care, now do one,” Cain said, his voice one angry line.
Robert left full of disappointment, turning his feet towards the pub and his sister’s sympathetic ear. It was a Tuesday, today might be a day when that compassion was for him and not Aaron. However, it was hit or miss and Robert knew he could be just as easily walking into a lecture. He had such high hopes for Cain helping him out again, but the rejection was getting embarrassing. He wouldn’t do this again…not unless it was to help Aaron.
 Two months ago.
Robert’s phone beeped, letting him know that Aaron was late, stuck in traffic on the way back from a scrap run. He didn’t mind, he was enjoying his pint at the bar. Organising his schedule in his mind, while he considered pulling out his phone and calling Liv. He thought better of it, they could do it when Aaron finally showed up because he’d want to talk to his sister too - they both already gave him shit for calling so often.
Glad, they were going to have dinner here, Robert was knackered it had been a long week and no cooking, meant no dishes, which meant after they’d eaten he could take his husband home and upstairs to their bedroom. He could count the new freckles that Aaron had gotten from working in the sun with his sleeves rolled up.
Startled out of his plans of stripping Aaron naked and licking him one inch at a time, Robert was surprised to see Cain. He pulled up the stool next to him at the bar and order himself a pint.
Robert watched his uncle-in-law down half the pint in the first minute, before even setting it down on the bar. He stared at it for several minutes before lifting it to his mouth for another large gulp. Cain looked at Robert, seemingly acknowledging that he was there and watching him, but he said nothing. He just raised one sardonic eyebrow, before draining his glass and getting up off the stool.
“Good talk,” Cain said, in the same gruff tone as ever, then left. Robert ended up sitting alone in the pub wondering what the fuck just happened. And he was still in shock and completely confused when Aaron finally showed up and sat down next to him.
“You okay?” he asked Robert, the soft touch of Aaron’s hand on his arm filling Robert with giddy butterflies. They always used to piss him off but now he loved it, and now he hoped they would never disappear.
“What?” he asked trying sort it all out in his head and failing.
Concern touched Aaron’s features and he tilted his head to one side studying Robert rather intently. “You’ve got this weird look on your face. Did something happen?”
Robert didn’t really know what to say to that, so he just went with the basics, “Cain was just here.”
“What did he do?” Aaron said looking disgruntled. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” Robert said offended at the thought.
Aaron let out a little huff of breath clearly, bored of talking in circles with Robert. He didn’t know what else to say because he really couldn’t fathom what was so weird about Cain being in the pub.
“Well, then that explains it. I’m gonna get a curry. You?” Aaron said, after looking at Robert for a few seconds longer.  
“Curry sounds good,” Robert agreed.
 Today.
Robert’s meeting Aaron again in the pub but this time instead of Aaron running late, Robert is just early.
“Pint please Vic,” he asks, sitting down at the bar, happy to relax after the crazy day he had.
“You could just get your own Robert,” Vic suggests, as she pulls his pint for him. “Can’t you see how busy it is?”
“I don’t work here and I don’t live here anymore,” he argues, she huffs and puts the pint down in front of him.
“If you want food you should order it soon, there was a mix up with the ordering and we are running out of everything,” Vic pulls a face and gestures at the kitchen as if she is blaming it all on Marlon.
Robert smiles at her but doesn’t acknowledge her implication, he knows that is a slippery slope into rage and accusation. He just wants to sit quietly with his pint, instead, he says, “I have to wait for Aaron.”
“Please yourself, but don’t come crying to me if all that’s left is the makings for a cheese butty,” Vic turns away to serve another customer and Robert finds him smiling into his pint over her antics.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he replies, he’s smarter than that.
Cain chooses that moment to come into the Woolpack and sit next to Robert.
It is deja-vu. Robert watches as he orders a pint and then drinks half of it. Cain puts it on the bar in front of him and runs his fingers up and down the glass making tracks in the condensation.
It’s somewhat hypnotising and when Cain speaks Robert almost falls off his chair.
“So, Moira invited me to dinner but I didn’t go because I was too busy having sex with Harriet,” he mutters under his breath, so low Robert has to lean closer just to hear every word.
Robert works his jaw, trying to make words come out after that shock revelation when Cain just continues without waiting for a response.
“This was a few months back but now I’m thinking it was a big mistake you know? I could have been working towards getting my marriage back on track instead I’ve been doing the vicar in the confessional.”
Robert just has no words. Which is just as well because Cain hasn’t finished.
“So, then Moira calls me this morning, she’s having trouble up at the farm and was wondering if I might be interested in giving her a hand and then staying for dinner after. So now I either go up to the farm and ‘fix’ whatever isn’t working, right or I turn her down again and spend the night playing saint and sinner with Harriet.”
Seriously, Robert looks around, hoping for a witness to whatever the hell is currently happening, because he’s about two seconds away from pinching himself.
“So, I guess the question is, what I have with Harriet, is it anything? Is it going anywhere? Or is it just a bit of fun, because I was bored with my existence and she gave me some lip one day? If it is something, is it more than what I had with Moira?”
Robert watches as Cain downs the rest of his pint and stands, he reaches out as if he is going to touch Robert. He can’t stop the flinch before it happens but Cain notices and pulls his hand back and puts it in his pocket.
“Okay, so good, this was helpful. Thanks, Robert,” he grunts as he turns to leave only to run into Aaron who just entered the pub. He nods in greeting to his nephew, “Aaron.”
“Cain,” Aaron says confused by his behaviour. “What the hell was that?” Aaron asks, with his hands on his hips, it’s very distracting for Robert, even in his befuddled state.
Robert shrugs, still not sure himself.
“Oh, my god, are you like friends with Cain?” Aaron asks, with horror written all over his face.
“What? No…maybe, I don’t know,” Robert replies. Were they? Who the fuck knew? Cain had spoken to him twice in the past two months and both times he’d left Robert feeling like he’d been abducted by aliens or something.
“Oh god,” Aaron says, sitting down next him and putting his head in his hands. “I can’t even begin to imagine the chaos.”
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originalcontent · 7 years
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On the Topic of Logic
Uuuuuugh okay. I don’t want to write a whole fucking essay in Skype of all things so here we go. Plus, I’m sure everyone is fucking tired of hearing from me rant from my polarizing anti-fascist biases. I guess I’m writing this here instead because while I will defend my ideals to the grave, it can get pretty exhausting.
If there’s something that I find morally objectionable, I have to go out of my way to argue it. I mean, I don’t always, I don’t even as much as I should, but leaving things unanswered gives me a gross feeling for a number of reasons. It’s fine if you’re looking to discuss things with me, but please, please, please actually look at my responses if that’s what you want to do? I can’t let other people in my direct circle of influence spread harmful ideologies in good conscious, I’m sorry. Something that people like to do is take my arguments and assume I’m making absolute statements, so I just want to say I’m not saying to never use logic, I’m not saying don’t call bullshit when necessary, I’m not saying violence is good. I’m sure you were all abundantly taught the merits of the converses by society already. You don’t need me to explain those to you. This isn’t a condemnation of well-accepted ideas, it’s just saying that there are flaws to them as well.
Part 1: Ethics do not follow formal logic
Before I start, I would like to ask a general favor. Please for the love of god, stop trying to explain logic and fallacies to me. I fucking know what a fallacy is. I’m especially partial to the straw man, or I must be, because that’s the one that I find used against me the most often. Some other fallacies that deserve honorable mentions. The slippery slope fallacy, that I may often seem to fall into. Except that historically, things actually are slippery slopes to bigger things. Plus, if you’re not going to speculate on potential consequences, what’s even the point of analyzing current events? I personally think it’s best to prepare for the worst case scenario, especially if the things you do to prepare are good and revolutionary acts that our society probably needs anyway. I know that I cannot predict the future. Next honorable mention is proof by repeated assertion. I will say statements and then a couple days/hours/minutes/whatever later, I will see the exact same arguments, again, that I had already refuted in the first place. I’m glad you like the nonviolent movements of the past in India and 60’s America! I’m glad you’re happy with the results! I hope that you can acknowledge that these movements were only successful because they were partnered with more radical, violent movements! Like, I understand that you don’t always want to read through all of the links I post, but in that case take my word for what they say, don’t just ignore them! And then there’s ad homenim. You know what, I think that itself needs its own section so let’s shelve that one and come back to it later. Same with false equivalencies, I’ll get to those soon. Point being I know what fallacies are. I know what logic is. I’m betting on the fact that most other people can conceptualize basic logic as well. They may not show their work every step of the way, but assuming that they don’t and that they need you to explain logic to them is incredibly disrespectful. If you’re telling someone to “be logical” then you’re really, really an asshole. If logic is flawed, sure, you can point that out, but that doesn’t discredit a whole argument, nor does it replace a counterpoint.
The title pretty much says it all here, but I’m currently taking philosophy classes, so let’s talk about formal logic.
First off, logic should not be your gold standard for truth. The (albeit very, very simplified) way that logic works is you take a set of precedents and deprive other statements from them. (You know, Socrates was a man, all men are mortal, therefore Socrates was mortal. Not rocket science.) The way you measure logic is if it’s valid or invalid, not true and untrue. That’s right folks, just because logic is invalid, that doesn’t mean the conclusion is false! And the reverse is also true. Assuming that logic and reality match up is my actual, absolute, personal favorite fallacy, the fallacy fallacy, the assumption that imperfect logic leads to a wrong conclusion. For example: “others using formal logic as the end-all of discussions frustrates 312, 312 is frustrated, so others must be abusing their abilities to cite formal logic.” There are plenty of other things that could have frustrated me, the logic here is unsound, but the conclusion is still true. (Apologies for passive-aggression, although to be honest I’m not feeling all that kind right now.) Furthermore “312 enjoys debating ideas, 312 is currently debating ideas, so 312 must be enjoying this!” Here are some true premises with perfect logic and a false conclusion.
You might argue for the first case that the result was just come up with by chance, but it can’t be independently accepted as truth because the premises didn’t contain enough information to form a valid conclusion. For the second you might argue that my issue is in my premises here. My statements were true, but they weren’t universally true. And then I would congratulate you on having come up with such a great and original points that had in no way ever occurred to me before you so graciously enlightened me. Then, we can proceed to break them down. The first example was in fact a case where precedents didn’t fit together into a clear message, and the second indeed did not have precedents that always held. But I can’t possibly think of a real-world example that doesn’t have clear and objective premises. Oh wait, now that I’m typing it a few examples are coming to me.
Am I straw-manning your argument? I’m very sorry. You know what, to clear up the confusion, why don’t you send me all of your opinions on these issues and logically why you have them, fully explained and everything. If anyone needs that from me, message me because I’ve literally already done that on several occasions.
In the meantime, I’m going to do my own little logical proof, right here.
Premises:
There is no objective moral truth
Logic without inherently true premises will never lead to inherently true conclusions
Conclusion: You can’t use fucking logic to discuss moral issues and have it be correct.
I may have skipped a few steps there, but I don’t have the patience and I think you get the idea. When discussing ethics, you have to make up your own criteria, your own precedents, because nothing about ethics is logical. Sure, you could argue lots of things. For example, that if people are good to each other then that helps society which therefore benefits the people, but not all people benefit from society, and who’s to say what makes any society better than anything else? I have a set of premises that I deem to be correct. They basically boil down to “A fair and just society for all people is good.” And how about “all people deserve basic human rights.” I don’t know what yours all are! I do know that I don’t have any rational explanation for these ideas aside from that I believe them to be right. Because that’s how this whole thing works. There’s no formula for right and wrong, so stop trying to find one. Instead just do your best to make the world a better place however you feel that’s possible.
Part 2: Ad homenim does not necessarily apply in cases of politics.
Well, if that isn’t a provocative title. As I stated above, nothing in ethics is right by any objective measure. I really wish we could set down some objective truths, like say, genocide is a bad thing, but apparently that’s fucking controversial. So here we go.
I do need to put a huge disclaimer on this to say what I am not saying. I am not saying I think you can just take anything that anyone you don’t like says is false. 7+5=12 no matter who the person who says that is. As much as I hate it, you can’t always just listen to assholes and take the opposite of whatever they say (although honestly that’s not as bad a strategy as one would think.) I’m not saying that it never applies, I’m saying that it doesn’t necessarily apply.
For anyone who doesn’t know, ad homenim is the practice of targeting the person who made an argument rather than the argument itself. It is my belief that that should be reserved for purely logical debates, not as applied to society at large.
Some context for what specifically inspired me to make this post, earlier this week there’s been a theme of discussing violent resistance to nazism and fascism. On Wednesday someone posted, in response, “‘An eye for an eye and the whole world goes blind’ -Mahatma Gandhi.” I made a comment that we should keep in mind all of the bad things Gandhi had done. The response was of course “ad homenim.” I had to go right then, but when I got back there were a shit ton of messages. One person said that I hadn’t argued with the quote, I had just made a statement, to which his response was “why bother putting that there in the first place.” Someone (bless her soul) cited the fallacy fallacy at him, and he responded with “well yeah but this was a very simple case of ad homenim. You shouldn’t use fallacies like that because they’re very easy to refute.” The two who had tried to defend me started trying to address him and the quote, and they kept getting the response of “well what 312 said wasn’t even relevant to the quote, you need to argue with the quote itself.” They were effectively shut down in terms of having an actual discussion, and I’m sorry for that because I had supplied him (and one other) with the means by which to do that. By the time I was online again I scrolled up to read the whole exchange, but everyone had moved on from this topic and it was abundantly clear that no one wanted to return to it, so I let it be. Then of course, I did as I do and grew bitter that I hadn’t been there to argue and started to stew in my bitterness until this post came into being. There we have it, the secret origin story of my unbridled rage.
Call that bullshit for unreliable narration, whatever. I’m not here to talk about that exchange any more than I’m going to express my pissed-off-ness at a couple people. I’m going to talk about why my original statement did not qualify as ad homenim!
I stress, earlier this week we had already been discussing violent resistance. We had already made all sorts of arguments on both sides. We had already pointed these people to a number of sources discussing why nonviolence is objectionable. Posting an image with this quote that all of us probably already knew added nothing new to this discussion. This quote did not stand alone in place of arguments. All it really managed to achieve was bringing famous people into the midst, in this case Gandhi. Whether or not you realized it, posting that quote was an entirely ethos-based argument. Ethos, for those who haven’t taken an english class, refers to an rhetorical tactic that appeals to authority. Thus it’s separate from pathos, emotional rhetoric, and logos, logical rhetoric, aka the literal only one of these three where logical fallacies apply in the first place. Like actually. The only response to appeals to authority is attack of character? How do you even expect me to argue with that quote? There’s nothing to argue! All the quote is is a baseless claim making a general statement meant to be inspirational. Which is great if there’s something new to take from it, but there’s not. Seriously, the fuck do you expect me to say? “No, actually the first person would lose an eye, then the second person would lose an eye, and then everyone else would be left alone”? Oh huh, I guess there is a logical response to that quote, my bad.
Actually, if you’ll indulge a tangent, remember when up there discussing fallacies I said I’d come back to false equivalencies later? Specifically the whole “eye for an eye” or “hate breeds hate” kind of thing. Other people on this website have stated that you can’t equate the hate of oppressors to the hate of the oppressed for their oppressors in far more eloquent terms than I can. Nazis hate jewish people, for instance, because they view them as inferior and inherently deserving of death. Jewish people might hate nazis because they literally want them dead. That hate is not just as bad! Violence coming from jewish people is self-defense! They can’t make a choice about their ethnicity, and nazis will want them dead regardless, whereas nazi ideologies are absolutely a choice, it’s people choosing to believe they’re superior and everyone else should be killed.
Back on the topic of ad hominem, in terms of politics and social change, everyone has an agenda. Many quotes seem very reasonable if you just take them at face value. You need to look at who’s saying them and why they’re saying them to understand what they mean. For example, the statement “Make America Great Again” might not sound too bad in of itself, but when you look at the platform associated with that line, you’ll realize that that’s a white supremacist statement. There’s nothing about that statement that’s white supremacist. It’s advocating for greatness, that’s all. I’m sure you know that to not be true. Political figures do this all the time, where they make a general, wide-reaching statement that you can critically analyze to see it doesn’t necessarily benefit who you think it would. (Such as conservatives calling for “safer neighborhoods,” when really what they want is stronger police forces.) Or where they call an initiative something seemingly unprovocative while including not-so-great policy in it if you bother to look past clever wording. Who says things matters. Who pushes things matters. Freedom and opportunity mean very different things to me then they do to libertarians, for instance. We could say the exact same sentence about wanting to protect freedom and opportunity, and it would still mean completely different things. So I’m just saying that if you decide to focus on statements themselves rather than who’s saying them, especially in the case of anything even remotely having to do with politics, you’re blind sighting yourself.
I had more to say, but to be honest I’m somewhat tired. Sorry, I’ll try to write more later.
One more thing:
http://everydayfeminism.com/2015/09/playing-devils-advocate/ Normally when I send this one to people I make sure to do it very nicely, but you know what? Right now I’m not feeling very nice. The role of a devil’s advocate is to represent perspectives not present in order to get somewhere constructive from a different angle. The role is not to argue against any points brought up. Read this, memorize this, love this, learn to live by this, I am actually 100% serious here.
That’s it for now.
Hope you got something out of it. I’ll probably write something about opinions, that’s another important issue. Well, 312 out.
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alystayr · 7 years
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Playlist musicale 2017 (1/2)
Liste des chansons (playlist 2017 - part. 1)
Mise à jour : 1e juillet 2017
playlist 2019 (part. 1)
playlist 2018 (part. 2), playlist 2018 (part. 1)
playlist 2017 (part. 2), playlist 2017 (part. 1)
playlist 2016 (part. 2), playlist 2016 (part. 1)
playlist 2015
0-9 #
A
A Perfect Circle - Judith (2000)
AC/DC - Thunderstruck (1990)
Jeanne Added - Miss It All (2015)
Alice In Chains - Voices (2013)
Antony and the Johnsons - Fistful of love (2005)
Arcade Fire - The Suburbs (2010)
Archive - Feel It (2015)
Asaf Avidan - Your Anchor (2016)
Audioslave - Show Me How to Live (2002)
Awolnation - Sail (2011)
B
Angelo Badalamenti - Twin Peaks Intro (1990)
Erykah Badu - Window Seat (2010)
Chet Baker - My Funny Valentine (1937)
Daniel Balavoine - Vivre ou survivre (1982)
Alain Bashung - Résidents De La République (2008)
Beastie Boys - Sabotage (1994)
The Beatles - Penny Lane (1967)
The Beatles - While My Guitar Gently Weeps (1968)
Beck - Where It's At (1996)
Bénabar - Je suis de celles (2003)
Michel Berger - Le Paradis Blanc (1990)
Chuck Berry - Roll Over Beethoven (1956)
Black Mountain - Old Fangs (2010)
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Rival (2013)
The Black Keys - Dead and Gone (2011)
The Black Keys - Too Afraid To Love You (2010)
The Blues Brothers - Everybody Needs Somebody To Love (from The Blues Brothers - 1980)
Blur - Song 2 (1997)
Tracy Bonham - The One (1996)
Benjamin Booker - Have You Seen My Son? (2014)
Booker T. & The M.G.'s - Green Onions (1962)
David Bowie - Wild Is The Wind (1976)
The Buggles - Video Killed The Radio Star (1979)
C
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Wide Lovely Eyes (2013)
Tracy Chapman - The Promise (1995)
Louis Chedid - On ne dit jamais assez aux gens qu'on aime qu'on les aime (2011)
The Clash - Rock the Casbah (1982)
Joe Cocker (cover Wayne Carson Thompson) - The Letter (1970)
CocoRosie - Fairy Paradise (2010)
Coldplay - God Put A Smile Upon Your Face (2002)
The Commitments (cover Otis Redding) - Try a Little Tenderness (1991/1966)
Chris Cornell - You know my name (from Casino Royale - 2006)
The Cranberries - Dreams (1993)
Sheryl Crow - My Favorite Mistake (1998)
The Cure - Lullaby (1989)
D
Miles Davis - So What (1959)
Dead Meadow - What Needs Must Be (2008)
Depeche Mode - Where's the Revolution (2017)
Alela Diane - Rose and Thorn (2012)
Dire Straits - Sultans Of Swing (1978)
The Dø - Slippery Slope (2011)
Peter Doherty - Kolly Kibber (2016)
The Doors - Roadhouse Blues (1970)
Nick Drake- River Man (1969)
Bob Dylan - Things Have Changed (from Wonder Boys - 2000)
E
Eels - Susan's House (1996)
F
Mylène Farmer - Je Te Dis Tout (2012)
Fatboy Slim - Praise You (1998)
Lee Fields and the Expressions - Faithful Man (2012)
Florence + The Machine - Drumming Song (2009)
Tennessee Ernie Ford - Sixteen tons (1955)
Franz Ferdinand - Love Illumination (2013)
John Fullbright - Gawd Above (2012)
G
Peter Gabriel - In Your Eyes (1986/1994)
Serge Gainsbourg - L'Eau à La Bouche (1960)
Serge Gainsbourg - La chanson de Prévert (1961)
Garbage - Only Happy When It Rains (1995)
Girls in Hawaii - Misses (2013)
Gossip - Eyes Open (2006)
Gotan Project - Santa Maria (Del Buen Ayre) (2001)
Gotye (feat. Kimbra) - Somebody That I Used To Know (2011)
Guns N' Roses - Welcome To The Jungle (1987)
H
Johnny Hallyday - Noir C´est Noir (1977)
Anthony Hamilton & Elayna Boynton - Freedom (from Django Unchained - 2012)
Herman's Hermits - No Milk Today (1966)
Jacques Higelin - Champagne (1979)
Eddie Holman - I Love You (1969)
How To Destroy Angels - How Long? (2013)
Romain Humeau – Amour (2016)
I
IAM - Grands rêves, grandes boîtes (2017)
Izia - So Much Trouble (2011)
J
JBM - Winter Ghosts (2012)
Jet - Are You Gonna Be My Girl (2003)
Elton John - Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word (2002/1976)
The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion - Bag of Bones (2012)
Michel Jonasz - La boîte de Jazz (1985)
Norah Jones - Don't Know Why (2002)
Janis Joplin - Kozmic Blues (1969)
Gary Jules (cover Tears for Fears) - Mad World (2001)
K
Kasabian - You're In Love With a Psycho (2017)
The Killers - Andy you're a star (2004)
The Kinks - You Really Got Me (1964)
L
Lake Street Dive - You Go Down Smooth (2013)
Bernard Lavilliers - Noir Et Blanc (1986)
Maxime Le Forestier - San Francisco (2002/1972)
Led Zeppelin - Communication Breakdown (1969)
The Libertines - You're My Waterloo (2015)
London Grammar - Rooting For You (2017)
Louise Attaque - Ton invitation (1997)
Lynyrd Skynyrd - Simple Man (1973/2015)
M
M, Toumani Diabate, Sidiki Diabaté, Fatoumata Diawara - Manitoumani (2017)
Paul McCartney - My Valentine (2012)
Marilyn Manson (cover Depeche Mode) - Personal Jesus (2004/1989)
Manu Chao - Me Gustas Tu (2000)
Massive Attack (Feat. Hope Sandoval) - The Spoils (2016)
MGMT - Time To Pretend (2007)
Eddy Mitchell - La dernière séance (1976)
Monster Magnet - Space Lord (1998)
The Moody Blues - Nights In White Satin (1967)
Morcheeba - Slowdown (2002)
Muse - Plug In Baby (2001)
N
Israel Nash - Rain Plans (2013)
Nazca - For the Braves (2016)
Nine Inch Nails - Burning Bright (Field On Fire) (2016)
Nirvana - Lithium (1991)
Noir Désir - Un Jour En France (1996)
O
Angel Olsen - Not Gonna Kill You (2016)
Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark - Enola Gay (1980)
Opeth - Windowpane (2003)
P
Pink Floyd - Time (1973)
Antonio Pinto - Warlord (from Lord Of War) (2005)
Placebo - Every You Every Me (1998)
The Police - Walking On The Moon (1979)
Pony Pony Run Run - Hey You (2009)
Iggy Pop (Feat. Kate Pierson) - Candy (1990)
Iggy Pop & Goran Bregović - In The Death Car (from Arizona Dream - 1993)
Portishead - Numb (1994)
The Pretty Reckless - Take Me Down (2016)
Denez Prigent (Feat. Lisa Gerrard) - Gortoz a ran (2000)
Public Enemy - Can’t Truss It (1991)
Q
Queen - Don't Stop Me Now (1978)
Queens Of The Stone Age - Little Sister (2005)
R
The Raconteurs - Level (2006)
Gerry Rafferty - Get It Right Next Time (1979)
Rage Against The Machine - Killing In the Name (1992)
Lou Reed - Walk on the Wild Side (1972)
Renaud - C'est quand qu'on va où (1994)
Rival Sons - Tied Up (2016)
The Rolling Stones - Angie (1973)
S
Shaka Ponk - I'm Picky (2011)
William Sheller - Un Homme Heureux (1991)
Simon & Garfunkel - The Sound of Silence (1964)
Skye | Ross - Light of Gold (2016)
Skunk Anansie - Brazen (Weep) (1996)
Patti Smith - Dancing Barefoot (1979)
Snow Patrol - Run (2003)
Soan - No Pasa Nada (2013)
Sonic Youth (cover The Carpenters) - Superstar (1994/1971)
Alain Souchon - La ballade de Jim (1985)
Soundgarden - Black Rain (2010)
Soundgarden - Blow Up The Outside World (1996)
Soundgarden - Superunknown (1994)
Regina Spektor - Small Bill$ (2016)
Spin Doctors - Two Princes (1991)
Bruce Springsteen - Born to Run (1975)
Fredrika Stahl - The World to Come (from Demain - 2015)
Sting - 50,000 (2016)
The Stranglers - Always The Sun (1986)
The Strokes - Under Cover of Darkness (2011)
Stromae - Tous Les Mêmes (2013)
Didier Super - Comme un enfant au Brésil (Les enfants faut les brûler) (2008)
System Of A Down - Chop Suey! (2001)
T
T. Rex - Bang a Gong (Get It On) (1971)
Téléphone - Un autre monde (1984)
Kate Tempest - Europe Is Lost (2016)
Texas - I Don't Want A Lover (1989)
Thievery Corporation - Amerimacka (2016)
Tricky - Hell Is Round the Corner (1995)
U
U2 - With Or Without You (1987)
US3 - Cantaloop (Flip Fantasia) (1993)
V
Suzanne Vega - Crack In The Wall (2014)
The Velvet Underground - I’m Waiting For The Man (1967)
W
Tom Waits - Hold On (1999)
Weezer - Say It Ain't So (1994)
Jack White - Love Interruption (2012)
The White Stripes - Jolene (2004)
The Who - Won't Get Fooled Again (1971)
Woodkid - Iron (2011)
Wovenhand - Corsicana Clip (2014)
Shannon Wright - The Thirst (2017)
Shannon Wright - With closed eyes (2004)
X
The xx - Angels (2012)
Y
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Date With The Night (2003)
Neil Young - Old Man (1972)
Z
Zebda - Tomber La Chemise (1998)
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