#like i can handle once a while but nowadays its EVERYWHERE

[mrssimply]

ROADRAGE

V stopped the Porsche, tires screeching into an abrupt halt, dust flying everywhere around the car. He got out of the driver's seat like he'd the devil on his ass. 

And maybe that was more accurate than imagined. Johnny let out a mean laugh when V slammed the door and kneeled on his seat to crawl over the shift. His handsome face was twisted into a snarl, aviators firmly placed on his nose as he lowered the window completely.

V was shaking as he paced in front of the car. If he’d longer hair, he would be tearing it right now. As it was, he gritted his teeth and tried to breathe through the anger. It was rare nowaday that Johnny could work him like that, but the rocker had been in a foul mood the whole night, and talked shit without a break.

They’d been driving a while before V threw them on the side of this deserted road in the middle of the Badlands. A twenty minutes trip under Johnny’s constant belittling and nagging, and whining, and anti-corpo propaganda, and general criticism of V’s life choices.

Until he lost control.

“Aww, what’s the matter, babe?” Johnny sneered with a mean smile, “Did I get you all jealous?”

V closed his eyes and tried to find the patience and serenity needed to deal with Johnny when he got like that, but found none. He kept seeing the man slouched enticingly right next to that Animal psycho. She could’ve snapped his spine in three with her pinky but Johnny kept taunting her and making lewder and lewder suggestions. Worse was, she hadn’t been immune, her interest shifting from the business V had wanted her to conduct to the resurrected legend by his side.

Legs wide open, stretching his dark jeans until he might have torn them apart, Johnny had sagged in his seat, making his shirt ride up and flashing her with a hint of his flat stomach. V’s Kiroshis had zoomed despite his best intentions to her nostrils flaring, and her pupils dilating visibly. 

Johnny had smirked, his victory visible to V from the corner of his eyes, making it clear this was entirely intentional.

That was when the merc snapped.

He opened his eyes and turned to Johnny. Like a cobra rising out of its basket, the man was now bent through the window, looking at him with anger.

“Is that why you headtailed out of that gig? Are you that gonk? It was a once in a lifetime opportunity to make them heel for good and you botched it, why? ‘cause you can’t handle some cow making eyes at me?!”

“She wasn’t just making eyes at you,” V growled, stepping closer, pulled into the maelstrom surrounding Johnny like this was his first rodeo with the man.

The rocker laughed, out loud and cutting like a knife. 

“So what?! It’s not like I couldn’t have taken her.”

“I don’t think that’s what she was thinking about,” the merc hissed through his teeth, nearly nose to nose with his friend.

Johnny’s face fell into a sneer, eyes like cold diamonds behind his glasses. 

“Oh yeah? What was she thinking about huh?” he challenged, “Same thing you’re thinking about half the time, right? I don’t see where the problem is, V, if she was bold enough to try, maybe I should let her have a go.”

Jerking back and turning on his heels, V put some distance between them. He wasn’t gonna lose his cool, because that was exactly what Johnny had been looking for since he woke up yesterday.

“Let’s fucking go back, V,” Johnny growled, “right the fuck now.”

V only glared at him from over his shoulder, arms crossed.

“Get me back here so I can let her do what you’re obviously not capable off,” the man went on, pointing to the general direction of the city.

Amazingly, after his rebirth, Johnny had let V continue driving the Porsche. A clear proof of love if you believed Kerry and Rogue. V felt like this was a cursed gift because while Johnny insisted V drive him around, the man was on his ass the moment he took a too sharp turn, yapping on about his precious girl. The point was that Johnny liked to use V as his personal taxi, but the merc wasn’t in the mood right now.

“Drive yourself,” V replied, giving him the finger.

They looked at each other in stubborn silence, before Johnny smirked again. 

“Fine,” he concluded, becoming liquid as he folded himself back into the car.

V blinked, experiencing a moment of doubt. Johnny wasn’t really gonna get back to that mammoth, right? He wasn’t gonna let her do what he’d hinted at, right?

But the rocker was also known for his stupid pride, and apparently this was now a matter of making V lose, whatever the cost.

As Johnny turned the key into the ignition, V stepped closer again, arms coming loose at his sides.

“You’re not really going back,” he declared. 

Leaning into his seat and resting his metal arm on the windowsill, Johnny looked at V from over his glasses.

“What if I am? I mean, did you see her fingers? Bet it’s gonna feel amazing around my throat.”

In a last bid for wisdom, V tried to close his eyes again, like that had ever worked for anyone.

“Johnny…”

“V..” the man drawled the same way.

“You’re not going back to her.”

“Or yeah? You gonna do something to stop me?”

That was the question. V knew what Johnny was aiming at, he could understand the need crawling under his skin, but he generally turned to Kerry for that. 

“Are you gonna stop me?” Johnny breathed again, mouth right by V’s ear. “Shut me up like you’ve been dreaming the whole way here?”

His voice brought shiver to V’s flesh, an excited frisson running down his spine. 

“Or are you gonna choke up and chicken out? ‘Cause I bet she won’t. I bet she could hold me down and destroy me with just one hand.”

Before he realized, V had Johnny’s chin in a tight grip, fingers whitening around the rocker’s red mouth.

“Fine,” he snarled, “I’ll give it to you, bitch.”

[Continue reading on AO3]

#cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #male v #virtual photography #Johnny x V #silverV #to quote a friend #Johnny's calling is to be a bottom #nsft #it was supposed to be just a few lines #my curse

[an-annyeoing-writer]

I feel like the whole world is having a synced baby fever help

#in the last two weeks or so im seeing babies literally everywhere #all over Tumblr baby fics #reading a fic randomly and babies appear #people talking babies in every chat i enter #and then overhearing my neighbor ask my mom when im getting kids #MA'AM I DONT EVEN HAVE A PARTNER PLEASE DONT TREAT YOUR LONELY MOTHER DAUGHTER AS A BENCHMARK #I'm literally going crazy here #as much as a mention of this takes away all the happiness of reading or anything and I'm just so upset it happens THIS often???? #like i can handle once a while but nowadays its EVERYWHERE #and no one ever considers it worth a trigger warning even which #aaaagxhhsbdndnsahhhhhhh #😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 #vg: personal

[mickey-henry]

𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky’s been flirting with you, but hasn’t taken it further than that. frustrated, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: occasional swearing (but not much) and frustrating flirting (I’d be melting if it was happening to me). besides that, this fic is pure fluffy fun.

author’s note: hello there! this is my second fic; I’m very excited to post it! I found the header image here, and if you want to listen to the song I reference in this fic, you can listen here. bold text indicates singing, while italicized text refers to inner thoughts. likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! I hope you like it! 💖

Bucky Barnes is an acquaintance at best. The two of you rarely work together, and with conflicting schedules, you see little of each other around the compound. On a random Friday in April, however, something changes in you. The moment is nothing out of the ordinary. You’re sitting on the couch in the main living space, re-reading one of your favorite books. Bucky has just returned from a mission; you glance up to see his exhausted expression. He catches your eye, winking with a smile, before walking to his room. Your heart flutters and your head freezes at the response. “Oh, no,” you think to yourself. “Maybe that was a one-time thing? I don’t actually like him, right?” Wrong. 

Ever since that night, the mere presence of Bucky Barnes drives you crazy: his stunning blue eyes that squint ever so slightly when he smiles, his adorable nose that crinkles when he laughs, his pillowy lips that you lose yourself in, his  fluffy hair you can’t help but imagine running your fingers through, his scruff speckled jawline that you wish would brush along your hands, cheeks, anywhere really. He occupies your dreams; you can’t escape this man even if you try. Today, he drives you crazier than usual. He stands in the compound's kitchen in a tight black t-shirt, one that leaves nothing to the imagination. This is the first time you’ve seen him in short sleeves, in anything other than tactical gear. You can’t help but stare as he prepares his lunch. The shirt hugs his frame tight, accentuating his biceps that had no right to be that big. “Gosh, he must spend hours in the gym to look like that.” You then notice the vein in his right arm protruding from his skin, tracing it with your eyes. You didn’t think he could become any more beautiful, but here he is before you, incredible as ever. 

You’re pulled from your reverie when Bucky calls your name. “Yeah?” you reply, barely masking the startled stutter in your voice.

“Pass me the salt?”

“Oh! Sure, of course,” you muster, taking a sip of water from the glass in front of you as you hand him the salt shaker. 

“Thanks, doll,” he flirts with a smile, the same one he gave you that night when he got back to the compound. You nearly choke. “Bucky Barnes called me a term of endearment?!? Holy shit.” Your heart swells and you look down at your glass in a desperate attempt to hide the blush creeping its way across your cheeks. “Goodness gracious, I respond this way from a simple word?” You couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if he touched you. 

It didn’t take long to find out. The following day, you stand in the kitchen prepping your lunch, singing softly along to the song playing from your phone. Bucky appears soon after. He stands close to you for a moment, closer than necessary, but of course you don’t mind. He has just showered; his cologne lingers in the air, intoxicating you. Somehow, you keep singing along, showing no sign that your mind is elsewhere. 

“Ugh, he smells amazing. This man has too much power over me; this is ridiculous! I don’t even remember what I was doing—”

“You have a beautiful voice,” he compliments.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you softly reply, your heart racing at his praise.

“Let me get by you real fast, doll,” he says, moving to walk behind you. 

“There he goes again with the pet name. My god, could this get any worse—” 

He places his hands gently on your hips as he moves beside you. Electricity travels through your whole body; you’re internally screaming at his touch. His hands feel better than you imagined. Even though the contact lasts only a moment, the effects of his touch linger after, leaving you speechless. 

You hear a musical chuckle from the man behind you. “Is he teasing me? It sure feels like it,” you wonder. There is no way that he can’t see the effect he has on you. Before you can even formulate another thought, he touches you again as he moves back to the other side of you. “That was definitely on purpose; certainly he wouldn’t do this by accident. Right?”

Your eyes linger as he finishes putting together his lunch. He catches your gaze and smiles. “See you later, sweetheart,” he says with a wink before leaving the room. “Okay, that answers my question; that was very intentional. What am I going to do with myself?”

You don’t know how much longer you can take his teasing. Throughout the week, he ups his antics, calling you pet names more than your own, stealing touches whenever he can get away with it, smiling whenever you make eye contact. The tension is insatiable; thoughts of Bucky follow you everywhere. You decide to take matters in your own hands; Bucky did not seem to be planning to make a move anytime soon. If he is going to tease the hell out of you, you might as well get some payback. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Tony’s announcement of Friday night karaoke gives you a wicked idea. However, for it to work, you need to recruit help. You know just who to ask. It doesn’t take long to find Sam and Steve; they spent a ton of their free time sparring in the gym. They seem to be at the end of their workout, their movements slow and sloppy, relying on witty retorts to throw off the other. They stop when they notice your arrival. 

“Hey!” Sam says with a smile, hugging you as you approach. You squeeze him tightly, even with his sticky sweat coating his arms. You greet Steve with a hug too.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Steve asks as you let go.

“Can I ask you guys something? And you promise you two won’t laugh at me? Especially if I'm reading this wrong?”

“Of course,” answers Steve. 

“Yeah, for sure,” replies Sam. 

You hesitate for a second, taking a deep breath. “Does Bucky like me? I swear he does. He keeps teasing me, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I think I am practically in love with the guy at this point, he’s so beautiful and—”

You stop as the boys exchange glances and begin laughing. 

You cross your arms, hurt. “You said you wouldn’t laugh at me! I can’t control how I feel.”

“No! Wait! We aren’t laughing at you!” Steve says between giggles. 

You furrow your brows. “Then why are you laughing?”

“Bucky’s obsessed with you,” Steve answers after calming his laughter. 

“God, yes, you’re all he talks about nowadays,” Sam adds. 

“What?! He does? Why? Are you shitting me right now? Because that would be really freaking mean—“

“No! Of course not,” Steve insists. “Don’t you see the way he looks at you?”

“And the pet names he gives you?” Sam adds.

“And how he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself lately?” Steve finishes. 

Now you feel stupid for even asking. Of course you noticed all of those things. They were all you ever thought about. “Well, yeah, but maybe he does that with all the girls.”

“What girls?” Sam retorted. “The only women who are here often enough to cross paths with him are you, Natasha, and Wanda. Wanda’s with Vision, as weird as that is, but love is love. Natasha shoots daggers at anyone who looks at her with love in their eyes. That leaves you.”

“Why in the world would he like me? Of all people? He’s out of my league,” you sigh,

Sam’s scoff pulls you from your thoughts. “Bucky? Out of your league? He’s a crazy ex-assassin with emotional issues! If anything, he's out of your league.”

“You’re a catch, why wouldn’t he like you?” Steve assures.

Steve and Sam always know just what to say to make you feel better. “I guess you’re right,” you admit with a defeated grin. 

“So, you know how Bucky feels. What are you going to do about it?” Steve asks. 

“I have an idea, but I need your help.”

“We’re listening.”

You divulge your plan to them. They smile, hyping you up. 

“Dude, I’m so down!” Sam exclaims, clapping his hands in excitement. 

“You think this will work?”

“Definitely,” Steve assures. “This is going to be amazing!”

“Okay then, we’re doing this. Let’s go find Bucky. Time to initiate phase one.”

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky is sitting on the common room couch, flipping through a book when he sees you, Sam, and Steve enter. He exchanges a glance with you, smiling as your eyes light up. The three of you sit down. You’re sitting next to Sam, closer than usual. There’s a brief moment of silence before you speak. “Sam, are you going to karaoke night?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss everyone’s drunk-ass singing for the world.”

“Will you be my duet partner?”

This catches Bucky’s attention. He looks up from his book. Why the hell were you asking Sam to sing with you? You normally ask the girls...

“Sure thing, baby. It’ll be a ton of fun!” Sam smiles. 

Baby?! What?! How dare he call you a pet name, his girl, right in front of him? Well, you may not be his girl yet, but Sam knows how he feels about you. What the hell is he thinking?

“Yay! This’ll be so fun!” You hug him, grabbing his hand before continuing, “Wanna practice with me in a bit?”

“Find me when you’re ready, sweetheart,” Sam answers, kissing your knuckle before letting go of your hand. 

Sweetheart?! What the fuck was going on? Did he miss his shot? Would Sam really do that to him? Bucky can barely handle his swirling thoughts. He storms out of the room without looking back. 

Steve can’t help but laugh once Bucky is out of earshot. “That worked a little too well, wouldn’t you say so?”

“That wasn’t too far, was it?” you ask with a worried expression on your face. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. He’ll just come on even stronger now. He won’t give up on you that easily,” Sam assures you. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky can barely contain his anger as you step on the stage with Sam, giggling and smiling at your karaoke partner. Jealousy engulfs him. He can barely listen to the start of the song, ignoring the catchy beat blasting through the speakers. He doesn’t recognize the song, but looks up from his drink when you sing, “Hey Bucky boy, what you doing tonight? I wanna see what you got in store."

He looks right at you. Did she just say Bucky?

Sam echoes, “Hey, hey Bucky!” Well, that answers his question.

“You're giving it your all when you're dancing on me. I want to see if you can give me some more,” you continue, twirling your fingers through your hair.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“You can be my man, I can be your girl, and we can pump this jam however you want,” you sing, swaying your hips to the cadence of the lyrics.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“Pump it from the side, pump it upside down, or we can pump it from the back and the front,” you wink as you finish the line. Bucky sits up suddenly, crossing his legs, his face turning beet red. You smile, knowing the plan was working. Steve laughs from beside him. He keeps his eyes glued on you as the two of you continue the song, utterly entranced. You look him right in the eye as you end the song, “I want you tonight.”

You saunter over to where he is sitting after high-fiving Sam, confidence filling your chest. “So, what did you think of my performance, Bucky?”

You yelp as he grabs your hips and pulls you down to sit on his lap. His voice deepens, “you’re such a tease, you know that right?”

You laugh. “I’m the tease? Really? You’re the one who just pulled me onto your lap and taunts me with flirtatious remarks and smiles all freaking day. My god Bucky, make a move already—”

He cuts you off, pulling you in for a kiss, his flesh arm grabbing the back of your neck. The team whoops and cheers. 

“Glad you finally made a move, Bucky,” you pant as your lips part from his.

“Best decision I ever made in my life, doll.” Before you can respond, he kisses you again, the karaoke bar fading in the background as you finally embrace the man of your dreams.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mickey-henry #bucky barnes fic #my fic: hey bucky #mel's writing

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 20

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 19

Next Chapter: to be posted

After a long consideration, Lucie decided to wear her fit flops into the woods. Perhaps not the best choice of shoe, but she still had blisters on both feet and any other shoe would make it worse. She regretted that decision when her feet started to get cold, but if she’d chosen different shoes she would probably regret them being painful just the same. She began to understand why middle aged men insisted on wearing socks with sandals, no matter how awful it looked.

‘Are you seriously wearing flip flops?’ Alastair asked when he noticed.

‘They’re fit flops,’ Lucie protested.

‘Which are not flip flops?’

‘These are structured and very good for the feet. Also I have blisters everywhere. This is how I can still walk.’

No one had additional questions. Alastair checked the pictures on his phone every once in a while and compared with their surroundings. The pictures he and Thomas had taken off the ruins had become pictures of this world instead of the one in between, and Alastair was trying to pinpoint the location of the ruins. None of them felt it was a good idea to spend an extended time in the land in between, considering the danger of being sucked all the way into the realm of the thief of souls. It was possible Lucie could portal them back from there as well, but even entering that realm could also kill them all. Lucie wasn’t willing to take chances.

‘I think these plants match the pictures,’ Alastair said.

Lucie tried to look over his shoulder at his phone, and got a glimpse of the same shrubs that were in front of her. It wasn’t conclusive, this could have been anywhere, but Alastair scrolled through his pictures and made more comparisons. Not to mention he’d been to the ruins before so he at least knew what path he’d taken to get there.

‘Alright, I’ll open a portal,’ Lucie said. ‘Darkness, create a gateway to the land in between only open to myself, Cordelia Carstairs, Alastair Carstairs and Thomas Lightwood, a gateway that remains open until all four of us make our way back through the same gateway.’

The gateway of shadows was subtle as always, but soon the four of them disappeared through it. Lucie tripped over something as soon as she was through, falling over and falling onto her knee.

She scrambled upright and inspected the parts of her body that were hurting. Her knees were bleeding, but the wounds were superficial and she could walk just fine. She’d probably have to clean and disinfect it when they got back.

Of course, the floor of the ruins was higher than the path in the wood, so stepping through the portal meant she had to step upwards while not seeing the floor. Honestly, it was a miracle she was the only one who’d tripped.

‘Are you alright?’ Cordelia asked.

‘Just a little clumsy,’ Lucie said. ‘Next time we go here I’ll open the gateway before the ruins and not in the middle of them.’

Lucie sat down on an a block of stone and looked around. Her knees did hurt. As a child she’d been rather uncoordinated and had had bleeding knees all the time, but she thought she’d grown over that. Nowadays Thomas, who wasn’t quite used to his size, was the clumsy one.

The ruins looked the same as she remembered from seeing them in Alastair’s memory. It had been a weird experience, to look through his eyes. Looking in Alastair’s memory let her experience the memory as he had sensory wise. Somehow his senses were even more overwhelming than her own. It made her wonder if Alastair was autistic too. She wasn’t the only who experienced his memories that way, according to Cordelia it was much easier for her to revisit her own memories than his, since his memories tended to be so overwhelming even when they were very neutral memories. Alastair believed Cordelia’s memories were duller and less detailed because they belonged to someone else and he was just visiting, but Lucie wasn’t so sure.

He definitely struggled socially and had specific and sometimes odd interests, it wouldn’t surprise her if he were autistic, or at least not neurotypical somehow. Although she guessed considering he had PTSD that already made him not neurotypical. She was never quite sure what did or did not fall under the neurodivergent umbrella.

‘Is this the trap door you couldn’t get open?’ Cordelia asked.

‘Right here,’ Alastair said.

Thomas knelt down and started pulling on the handle. ‘I still can’t get it to open.’

‘Let me,’ Cordelia said, and she firmly grabbed her sword and swung it at the trap door, shattering the wood until there was an opening and a ladder leading down somewhere.

‘Who wants to go first?’ Alastair asked, studying his nails.

‘I’ll go,’ Cordelia said.

Alastair didn’t listen to her and instead descended the ladder himself, disappearing into the darkness. Cordelia groaned.

‘I’m the one with the magic sword!’ she shouted into the opening. ‘What part of “I’ll go” do you not understand?’

Alastair called something back, but Lucie was too far away to make out what either of them were saying. She stood up from her rock, which was hurting her butt, and walked over to Cordelia and Thomas.

‘Anything down there, Alastair?’ she called into the opening.

‘It’s dark,’ he yelled back. ‘I’m turning on my flashlight.’

Lucie didn’t realize he’d brought a flashlight. Then it occurred to her he probably had one on his phone. She could see a shimmer of light coming from down the trap door. Whatever it was down there, it was deep.

A howl pierced the air, not unlike the sounds the werewolf Cordelia had killed had produced. It came from downstairs.

‘Alastair, get back up here!’ Thomas yelled down.

Alastair did not respond. There was another howl. A growling sound. Something Lucie interpreted as a struggle.

‘Alastair!’ Cordelia yelled.

A deafening silence. None of them dared to breathe.

‘I’m alright!’ Alastair called back.

The creature growled again, the sound of nails screeching against the floor. Lucie didn’t recognize everything that was happening down there.

A moment later Alastair emerged from the trap door, some dust on him which he carefully petted off, but otherwise he seemed unharmed.

‘Did you kill it?’ Lucie asked, eyes wide.

‘Not yet,’ Alastair said. ‘It’s another werewolf, and last time I used this dagger on it, it didn’t work. We need cortana.’

‘How come you’re not dead?’ Cordelia asked, smacking him over the head. ‘You bloody fool, why did you go down there without me?’

‘Because otherwise you would have,’ Alastair said. ‘There’s a werewolf down there, but it’s bound by a chain. It tried to attack me, but it wasn’t nearly close enough to reach me. There were two doors behind it, it’s protecting something. Meaning we’re in the right place.’

‘If it’s not the skin then it must be something else important,’ Cordelia said. ‘So, I kill the wolf and then we open the doors.’

‘Careful, it’s starved and very aggressive,’ Alastair said.

‘I killed a werewolf before.’

‘One that had its eyes on me and Thomas. You could surprise it from behind, that is not possible right now… Unless I distract it first.’

Cordelia frowned. ‘I’m not sure…’

‘I know now where I’m safe. I’ll try to provoke it into attacking me while remaining someplace it cannot reach me. You follow me down, quietly, and then attack from behind.’

Alastair went back down. Cordelia looked nervous and Lucie squeezed her hand for a moment. ‘You can do this. Come back when you’re safe.’

Lucie was nervous too, but she had faith in Cordelia. She’d killed a werewolf before, she could do it again. And this one was chained, she could always run and make her way back to a location it couldn’t reach.

Waiting seemed like forever. She heard the werewolf, she heard it howl and screech and make sounds Lucie interpreted as an attempt to attack. She didn’t hear any screams, no sign Alastair or Cordelia were in danger. Then the werewolf made a pained sound. Silence.

‘It’s dead!’ Cordelia yelled. ‘You can come down.’

Lucie went first, carefully gripping the ladder and going down. It creaked under her feet and she held her breath as she descended slowly. The ladder had held both Alastair and Cordelia, she reminded herself. She might have gained weight the last few months, but she suspected she was still lighter than Cordelia and it had held her.

Lucie took in a deep breath when she was all the way down. She turned around and took a good look, taking out her phone and putting on the flashlight. In front of her, its ankle chained to the wall, was a dead woman. Lucie shrieked. She was beheaded, and an arm was lying a little farther away from the rest of the body.

‘That’s the werewolf,’ Cordelia said.

‘It’s horrifying how they return to human when they’re dead,’ Lucie said.

‘It is. No ghosts here?’

Lucie shone her flashlight in all directions, but didn’t recognize anyone beyond Cordelia and Alastair. ‘No, no one. And there are two doors. Which one do you think we should take?’

‘One is locked, one is not,’ Alastair said. ‘I imagine the interesting things are behind the locked door.’

Cordelia hacked at the locked door with her sword, but when the door was out of the way something else was stopping her. Lucie walked over to take a look, shining her flashlight into the room. It was a big room with a table, on top of which lay something that resembled maybe a blanket? Lucie tried to get a closer look, but an invisible barrier stopped her.

‘I think that’s it,’ Cordelia said. ‘That’s Grace’ skin.’

Lucie realized it was indeed a skin of sorts, not a blanket.

‘Cortana cannot breach magical barriers,’ Alastair said. ‘So how are we going to get through? Lucie, can you dispel it?’

‘I have no idea how,’ Lucie said, ‘but I can try. Darkness, please lift the barrier that keeps us from entering this room.’

What remained of the door disappeared, but when Lucie stepped forward the invisible barrier was still there. ‘That’s odd. I couldn’t open or close any doors at home, much less make anything disappear.’

It was one of the things she’d tried, but nothing had worked.

‘Perhaps your power is different in this realm,’ Alastair mused. ‘Perhaps this is where it comes from.’

Lucie wondered why that would be. The land in between was something layered over their own, tied to the thief of souls who waited on the other side. Lucie suspected the souls that were taken were similar to ghosts as she knew them in her world, so that was one connection. Her magic seemed to be tied to darkness, at least it was according to Grace, and the land in between was certainly darker than the normal world. But what was the connection between her and the thief of souls? Was there one? Lucie wasn’t sure she was ready to find out.

‘Perhaps,’ Lucie said. ‘I might have disappeared the door, but the magical barrier is still there. What is behind the other door?’

Thomas opened it and bent down to fit through. Lucie wasn’t sure when or where these ruins were built, but the people who lived in it were not accustomed to tall people. The doorways were wide enough, but not very high.

Thomas returned, hitting his head against the doorframe this time.

‘Careful,’ Lucie said.

Thomas rubbed his head, wincing in pain. ‘Why are the door openings so low?’

‘Probably because tall people hadn’t been invented yet when this was built,’ Alastair said. ‘Anything interesting there?’

‘Corridors, doors, vines… it’s a bit of a mess down there, and there’s a part that’s underwater. I think it’s a maze. Which probably means it hides something interesting.’

Alastair frowned. ‘Would Tatiana have reason to go there and hide anything beyond the skin? I’m assuming the barrier lets her through.’

‘But perhaps there’s something else down there someone else hid,’ Lucie said. ‘Or there’s a key that can get us through the room. Perhaps we were supposed to find the key there instead of shatter the door. Like in a legend of Zelda dungeon.’

‘I don’t know what that means,’ Alastair said.

‘It’s a video game,’ Thomas offered. ‘Well, a series of video games. It is common for the key to a locked door with something important behind it to be hidden someplace else.’

‘But this isn’t a video game,’ Alastair said. ‘If I wanted to defend something at all costs, there would be no puzzle solution to getting it, and the only way to shatter that magical barrier would be by casting magic on it of such force it would be unable to withstand it. If there was a key, I would take it with me, not hide it in a maze this close by.’

‘But the text did say something about every puzzle having a solution. Perhaps that’s against the rules. Since we can’t cast enough magic to dispel the barrier, it’s worth taking a look there,’ Lucie said, entering the next room.

It did look like something out of a legend of Zelda dungeon, although perhaps a bit more decayed and creepy. There was a lower level beside where she was walking, which was flooded. Lucie didn’t think it was safe to go in the water. Flooded areas could be treacherous, and filled with bacteria. She placed her steps carefully, there was nothing keeping her from falling into the water. There was a bridge farther ahead, leading to a series of doors, most of which had locks on them. There were vines growing along the walls, but none of the doors appeared blocked so far. The atmosphere was dark and gloomy, but bright enough to see even if she couldn’t identify a source of light. She wondered how the vines grew here without sunlight.

Cordelia followed her, sword still ready, but when Thomas tried go through the door something stopped him.

‘There’s a barrier here too,’ Thomas called.

Lucie immediately turned back, worried she’d locked herself in. She put her hand out to feel for the barrier, only to feel… nothing. She moved back into the first room.

‘Oh, it’s gone,’ Thomas said, moving into the second room again, carefully bending down to protect his head.

When Lucie tried to follow him, she felt what Thomas had noticed, a barrier just like the one keeping them from Grace’ skin. Which was odd, because just moments ago she’d been able to go through both ways. Alastair tried as well, but it didn’t let him through. Not until Cordelia returned and he suddenly stumbled through as if he’d been leaning on the invisible barrier and now he’d fallen, catching himself by taking a few steps until he’d found balance.

‘Maybe it will only let two of us through,’ Thomas speculated. ‘It doesn’t seem particular on who enters, but when there are two of us on the other side the barrier closes for the ones left behind.’

‘That’s an odd mechanic,’ Alastair said. ‘Why not keep everyone out if you’re so keen to place a barrier?’

‘The inscription said something about every puzzle having a solution and every lock having a key,’ Lucie said. ‘What if it means that there must always be a way, and you cannot guard a treasure in such a way it’s impossible to reach? You can only make it so long and complicated that people would give up or get lost in there, but there has to be a solution. So this is like a dungeon, and maybe Tatiana created it not to make it impossible to get the skin, but make it hard enough most people won’t succeed. There had to be a key to the skin and it has to be somewhere here.’

Lucie figured this land played by its own rules, and she hoped she was right and getting past the magical barrier was possible if they solved whatever was here.

‘But if we stay too long, we’ll end up trapped in the realm of the thief of souls,’ Alastair said. ‘Is it worth the risk?’

‘Perhaps there is a way to keep track of this realm changing into the other one,’ Thomas said. ‘Just before I followed you down, something changed into the ruin structure. Small, but some bricks were added to a wall. Lucie, would you be able to reverse the changes, and freeze the realm in this state, so to say? To give us more time?’

Lucie guessed that meant she had to stay here. So much for exploring the dungeon. At the same time, her knees still hurt and getting to sit in the ruins and cast magic might be better than stumbling through dark caverns. Not to mention her chances of catching an infection from whatever was in that water was far greater.

‘I could give it a try,’ Lucie said. ‘I think it should be possible, but I won’t keep up forever.’

‘Only two can go in, so one person should stay with Lucie whereas the other two go explore,’ Cordelia said.

Part of Lucie hoped Cordelia would stay with her, but she suspected there might be more dangers lurking inside, more beasts chained up blocking exits, and it made sense for Cordelia to go.

Cordelia had the same idea. ‘I’ll go, I’ll have my sword to protect myself.’

‘You’ll get lost in there,’ Alastair said. ‘I’ll have to join you since I can always trace our way back.’

Lucie imagined with his memory he’d never get lost as long as he made sure to take in his surroundings and look for landmarks. She’d never considered that use of his ability.

‘I’ll stay with Lucie,’ Thomas said. ‘If we can’t hold on anymore, if we’re attacked, what do we do?’

Alastair grimaced. ‘You run. You take the gateway back. Do not wait for us. The gateway should remain open in case we do make it back. Depending on how deep this complex is, one of us will return every once in a while to check how you are doing. Just make sure you stick close enough to the entrance that you’ll hear us yell. If there’s no response, we will leave immediately.’

Lucie wasn’t comfortable running and leaving Alastair and Cordelia behind, but she agreed that they had little other choice. The gateway would remain open for them either way, they’d have a way back.

‘If we have to leave without you, I will stay around and check every once in a while,’ Lucie said. ‘However, if I leave and then enter again, does that not reset the time before it has been too long?’

‘If we stay too long we might get trapped with the thief,’ Alastair said. ‘Leaving and entering might reset the count until that happens, we should try that before delving in. But I do not want to end up buried alive.’

Alastair had a point, if she opened a gateway here they might be very well end up somewhere under the ground. All four of them ascended the ladder, and made their way to the still open gateway, a ray of light, stepping through. The difference was subtle and yet their world felt so much safer, warmer, kinder. The greatest difference was the ruins disappearing. When all of them were back, the gateway closed.

Lucie checked the time on her phone. One in the afternoon. It didn’t feel that long, but she was used to that by now. Time ran differently in the land in between.

Lucie opened another, using the same conditions. When they entered again, the ruins did look different than they had upon leaving, but only slightly.

‘That wall was much higher,’ Alastair said, pointing his finger. Lucie was impressed by his attention to detail. ‘Now it is crumbling. I think this is a complete castle in the realm of the thief of souls.’

‘Yes,’ Lucie said. ‘So we must make sure the castle doesn’t get built.’

Lucie hugged Cordelia before she left. ‘Don’t die, alright?’

‘I’ll do the best I can, and we’ll be careful. We won’t take any unnecessary risks.’

Lucie found a comfortable stone to sit on close to the trap door, while Alastair and Cordelia descended the ladder once more, disappearing into the darkness.

‘Darkness, freeze this place in time so that we will not be transported to the realm of the thief of souls,’ Lucie commanded.

She wasn’t sure if anything was happening, but she would keep her eyes open to see if anything changed. She might not have Alastair’s memory to keep track off the difference but Lucie had always had an eye for detail.

Thomas was pacing restlessly, head down, posture slumped, walking everywhere across the ruins. It was getting on Lucie’s nerves, but she tried to ignore it and let him do whatever he needed to.

‘Everything alright up there?’

It was Cordelia. Some time had passed and she was checking up for the first time.

‘Nothing has changed yet,’ Lucie called back into the opening. ‘Any progress?’

‘We checked which doors open and which don’t,’ Cordelia said. ‘There’s a mechanism here that we think will drain the flood water, but Alastair’s still trying to figure out how to operate it. And most of the locked doors only give us more keys to open new locked doors, so that’s not exactly helpful.’

‘Alright, good luck! If you need anything, just let us know!’

Cordelia went back inside and Lucie was starting to get very irritated with Thomas’ pacing. She knew it was irrational, but it was too much sensory wise.

‘Will you sit down for a moment?’ she snapped.

Thomas’ eyes went wide in shock and he immediately came to sit down next to her. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘It’s nothing to apologize for, it’s just getting on my nerves,’ Lucie said, remembering Thomas’ tendency to apologize for everything, always worried he was taking up too much space.

‘I’m nervous too,’ Thomas admitted.

‘Cordelia was here not long ago,’ Lucie said. ‘They’re alright.’

‘I have faith in them,’ Thomas said. ‘But that doesn’t mean I like waiting up there. I hate not being able to do anything. Alastair and Cordelia are trying to figure out how to get Grace’ skin, you are keeping us from falling into the realm of the thief of souls with no way back, and I am useless.’

‘You’re not useless,’ Lucie said. ‘You can help me. I need to be very focused on these ruins, so I need you to keep me safe.’

Thomas nodded, clutching a dagger in his hand. Another one of Alastair’s collection. Cordelia always claimed he was very possessive of his daggers, but now he seemed alright with sharing them. She knew there was a bad story behind the one he’d given her though, she knew this dagger had once been a gift from his ex lover, someone who had apparently been rich enough to buy this for him. She wondered how Alastair had felt upon receiving such a gift. Lucie guessed she’d feel uncomfortable receiving an expensive gift from a lover. But perhaps he’d felt indebted to his former lover too, had felt like no one else would love him like this person.

‘How are you and Alastair?’ Lucie asked. ‘Was it nice, sleeping over?’

‘Uhm, yes, it was nice. Well, I did accidently trigger a flashback and I’m terrified it’ll happen again. I don’t want to hurt him.’

‘Did you say anything weird?’ Lucie asked. ‘What happened?’

‘I think getting intimate with him brought up memories of his ex,’ Thomas admitted. ‘He said it wasn’t my fault, but maybe I did push him too much, or did not consider…’

Lucie wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t think it was Thomas’ fault, especially if Alastair said so. She knew he had a tendency to get angry when he was hurt, although she hadn’t witnessed many outbursts lately. According to Cordelia, his anger had calmed a bit since going to therapy. Lucie wasn’t sure if the way he always seemed tired, the fight drained from him was much better, and Cordelia agreed that sometimes it seemed worse.

‘What did you do after that?’ Lucie asked.

‘I took him outside to look at the stars,’ Thomas said. ‘It was a little cold, but it was nice. And Alastair did want to touch me again, so I’m guessing that’s a good sign.’

‘I really don’t think he blames you, or he would have gotten angry,’ Lucie said. ‘He tends to lash out when he’s hurt.’

‘He used to,’ Thomas said. ‘I don’t think he does that anymore. Not against others anyway.’

‘Do you like being with him?’ Lucie asked.

‘It’s amazing,’ Thomas said. ‘I mean, it’s difficult sometimes because I hate seeing him in pain, and I don’t always know how to help, but we also have fun together. He liked watching the stars with me, or going swimming.’

‘You can’t take all his pain away by yourself,’ Lucie said. ‘I know in novels it’s always love will fix everything, but unfortunately in real life that’s not how it works.’

‘I know,’ Thomas said. ‘But that doesn’t make it easier, watching him suffer in silence. If anything, it’s worse knowing that I can’t make it go away. The best I can do is support him and help him through it. How is it going with you and Cordelia?’

‘Not great,’ Lucie admitted. ‘I haven’t figured out how to tell her I like her.’

‘Blurting out feelings after nearly being mauled by a werewolf worked out for me,’ Thomas said. ‘Maybe you could tell her after today’s mission if we’re all still alive.’

‘Maybe,’ Lucie said.

She noticed a change in the wall, the same wall Alastair had pointed out earlier. It had grown, some bricks added to it until the wall seemed complete, no longer crumbled.

‘Darkness, reverse the progression to another realm and take us back to the land in between we entered.’

It worked, the bricks disappeared and the wall was crumbled again. Lucie felt as if she’d lifted all the bricks by herself. She wasn’t sure how many more times she’d be able to do this. Lucie tried to even out her breath, and lay back on the stone. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but she didn’t think she could find something better around here.

‘As Nico di Angelo once said, with great power comes the need to take a nap,’ Lucie said. ‘Can you keep in touch with Alastair and Cordelia for me? And alert me if anything else changes.’

Lucie closed her eyes and tried to find a comfortable position. Next time she’d bring a pillow. And a blanket.

#Alastair Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Thomas Lightwood #Cordelia Carstairs #james herondale #alastair carstairs #fanfiction #the last hours #tlh

[murderchased]

           *      𝐓𝐇𝐄     𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄     and    interrogation    of    one    mrs    katherine    hirsch     ,           aka          a  meeting  .

interior  ,        the    study    of    the    gellhorn    manor  .      night  .   she  hadn’t  been  asked  to  take  part  on  any  questionings,  per  se,  but  things  always  sort  of  folded  themselves  that  way.    margot  didn’t  leave  the  house  much  nowadays,  avoided  the  media  and  avoided  people  at  any  cost    --    but  came  prepared  whenever  avoidance  wasn’t  an  option.    liddy  wasn’t  the  type  of  person  to  engage  with  policemen    --    let’s  leave  it  at  that    --,    by  so  making  margot  dumaurier,  murder  mystery  author,  the  one  best  versed  person  to  handle  the  situation  while  they  still  couldn’t  contact  anyone  on  the  outside  of  the  house.

of  course,  the  fair  rain  turned  storm  didn’t  help,  and  the  way  a  tree  near  the  entryway  seemed  to  have  blocked  their  only  way  out  wasn’t  exactly  good  news.  truth  be  told,  they  didn’t  have  any  news  to  call  good  then.  there  was  a  dead  body  in  the  pool    --    well,    recently  removed  from  it,    now  lying  by  its  border  like  an  overgrown  fish  stuck  in  the  sand.  liddy  had  already  gone  through  a  couple  breakdowns  following  the  sight  of  the  body  (though  the  one  sentence  she  muttered  seemed  more  worried  about  the  pool  part  rather  than  the  dead  body    --    it  had  been  dozens  of  dollars  recently  put  on  that  new  pool,  after  all;  and  only  by  margot’s  reassurance,  that  she  would  take  care  of  it  and  make  sure  whoever  did  it  was  punished,  did  poor  lydia  calm  down.  she  picked  her  yellowed  little  notebook  from  her  purse,  asked  thomas  for  a  pen  and  questioned  each  and  every  person  she  encountered.

you  see,  no  one  really  questioned  it.    she  seemed  to  know  what  she  was  doing,    if  anything  used  to  it      --      and  that  was  a  whole  thing  for  itself.  people  seemed  to  have  this  strange  impression  that  margot  was  a  terminally  grieving  woman,    followed  by  death  everywhere  she  went,    though  there  never  had  a  day  where  she  didn’t  profit  out  of  that.    of  course,    she  didn’t  love  the  whole  prospect  of  murder    --    but  wasn’t  her  overly  accostumed  to  it  mind  the  source  of  all  her  riches?    didn’t  she  find  a  way  to  turn  every  other  encounter  with  death  into  a  riveting  tale  for  the  pages?  oh,  death  chased  her  alright.    at  this  point,  however,  she  simply  chose  not  to  run  anymore.

she  approaches  the  study  room.    mister  wadsworth      (     the  gellhorn  house’s  butler    )   ,  who  had  been  walking  around  with  margot  and  announcing  the  name  and  relations  of  whoever  they  ran  into  around  the  house,  had  introduced  the  upcoming  figure  as  the  ex  wife.

     margot  :    ex  widow  ,    now  ,    i  suppose  .      (    and  mildly  regrets  the  attempt  at  a  joke  almost  immediately  .    )

    mr  wadsworth  :    well  ,    yes  ,    ma’am  .    mister  nicholas’  former  wife  is  katherine  hirsch  .    together  ,    they  are  the  owners  of  an  art  gallery  that  carries  their  name  .

the  slip  on  the  present  tense  in  his  sentence  makes  her  spine  itch,    but  margot  is  good  at  letting  that  one  go.    she  walks  into  the  room,    and  wadsworth  waits  outside.    her  gaze  lingers  upon  katherine  longer  than  she  can  help.    there’s  something  deeply  intriguing  about  the  woman  that  she  can’t  quite  crack.  perhaps,    the  possibility  of  once  again  facing  a  murderer.

    margot  :     mrs  hirsch  .    i  am  terribly  sorry  for  your  loss  .    (    though  the  little  notepad  was  already  in  hands,  and  she  was  mindlessly  scribbling  katherine’s  name  in  headliner  letters  across  the  first  quarter  of  the  blank  page  already.  )    i  hear  you  and  nicholas  were  no  longer  married  .    i  suppose  losing  a  business  partner  can  be  just  as  much  of  a  pain  to  face  .

here’s  the  problem  with  margot  dumaurier.  she’s  so  up  in  her  murder  mystery  fantasy  already,    she  doesn’t  even  remember  there’s  not  a  bone  in  her  body  able  to  head  an  investigation.    and,    really,    she  isn’t  about  to  back  down  unless  properly  called  for.  

    margot  :     do  you  mind  if  i  ask  you  a  few  questions  ?    (    no  time  left  to  answer  ;    she  sits  down  in  one  of  the  study’s  chairs  .    )    i  don’t  suppose  you  and  nicholas  came  to  the  party  as  a  couple  .    did  you  two  ...    meet  at  all  tonight  ?

#margot a pior do mundo simplesmente mas amo a lendinha #só quer garantir o ganha pão pra sustentar suas cabrinhas ! #📚 ❜ ─── thread . #📚 ❜ ─── 001 / the evidence . #📚 ❜ ─── ft. katherine hirsch . #cabe a katherine colocá-la no seu lugar conforme mandam os livros sagrados!!!

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #437

“you get what you pray for  /  you don’t get anything”

Do you tell your mom and dad everything? No. Who was the last person you talked about something that was bothering you with? Most likely my mom. What’s your favorite musical? I don't like musicals. Who did you last share a taxi with? I've never been in a taxi. If you’ve ever tried drugs or alcohol, what was your reason for first trying it? I've never done drugs, but the first time I drank was actually an accident. I'd come in from a long, hot walk, and I desperately needed water, and Mom offered me what I thought was just pink lemonade. Turns out it was a Mike's Hard Lemonade and I CHUGGED it before everyone around me was like "NOOOO!" because it was alcohol lmaooo. If you were far from home and needed to sleep for the night, would you choose to rent a crappy motel room for $60 or sleep in your car for free? I'm sleeping in my car. I'm afraid of things like bed bugs. Is there a situation where you caved into peer pressure and regretted it? I don't think so? Have you ever rolled off your bed in your sleep? Pretty sure no. What is your favourite planet? Saturn! Do you enjoy Mario games? Not really, honestly. They're just not my style. Mario Kart is fun every now and again, though. What flavor fruity drink is your favorite? Strawberry, in most cases. Ever done a keg stand? No. Who is the last person you lent money to? My mom. Do you have any health problems that are unusual for your age? I have carpal tunnel in my wrists from typing so much, but I'm not sure how "unusual" that is for young adults nowadays... I feel like there's something else, but it's evading me right now. Do you bite your nails? No, I pick/peel at them. :x What’s the longest nap you’ve ever taken? Oh god, hours. To the point it no longer really qualifies as a "nap." When people ask you about school, what is your usual response? Do you enjoy talking about school? Why or why not? I get all awkward and just reply that I gave it numerous shots, but my mental health couldn't handle it. I hate talking about school because I feel like a failure. Do you know how to fill a car’s tire with air? Have you ever had to do it? No to both. Do you like your best friend’s parents? Why or why not? Omg I LOVE them. They are spectacular people with massive hearts. I especially am drawn to her dad, whom I find incredibly inspiring. Both her parents are just great. I miss 'em. What do you like in your hot cocoa - marshmallows, whipped cream, candy canes? Do you even like hot cocoa? I loooove hot chocolate. I really just prefer it plain, but you can toss a few marshmallows in there. Which do you have a problem with: over-eating or under-eating? I'm way more likely to over-eat than under-eat. A girl likes her food lmao. The last boy you kissed, good-looking? He's by no means ugly, but I wasn't physically attracted to him personally. Do you love him? Not romantically, but definitely platonically. Do you like cherry Pepsi? I like cherry Coke. I don't like Pepsi. When was the last time you were given flowers? Ummm... I want to say the last time was many years ago when Tyler visited for the first time when we started dating. What do you want to name your children? I don't want kids. But hypothetically, Alessandra and probably Damien. Would you ever write a letter to someone you haven’t met yet, like your future spouse? No. I'd probably get too emotional anyway. Do you carry a mirror in your purse? No. Do you believe that there is beauty in everything? I've always thought this was such a stupid idea that tries to make reason out of life and its tragedies. Like yeah, cancer, rape, murder, etc. are definitely "beautiful." There is absolutely no beauty in a vast plethora of things. The first time you smoked, did you cough like a fool? I've never smoked before. When you were younger, did you have a Neopets account? Oh, yes. I loooooved Neopets, but not quite as much as Webkinz. I've actually remade a Neopetz account multiple times because I'd forget my info, ha ha... Who was the last person you got in a fist fight with? I've never been in a physical fight. Did you and your mom ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? Not "move out," no. We did, however, have a fight where I stayed with Dad for I want to say a week, maybe a bit less. Do you dislike anyone? Why? Well, yes. I don't know anyone who doesn't dislike somebody. There are a few people, in my case, that I'm not going to spend time going through and pointing out what I don't like. Do you think you will be in a relationship 2 months from now? No. Do you always feel like you’re making mistakes? Like constantly. Does your animal sleep with you? Roman usually does, yeah. Do you have any baby pictures of yourself on your computer? No. Mom has those in photo albums. What kind was the last chip you ate? I want to say traditional Lays? It was at my nephew's bday party. Do you eat onion rings? No, I'm not a fan. What was the last thing to disgust you? I think it was some thumbnail I saw on YouTube, even though it was (weakly) blurred. Where do you see your ex in 5 years? "The" ex, I don't want to think about it. Probably somewhere great for him, but would break my heart if I knew. Do your parents swear? Dad swears big time, while Mom tries to hold it back. You won't hear her say something like "fuck" unless she is SERIOUSLY upset. Do you ever drink warm milk? Warm milk sounds literally disgusting. Would you be really upset if Facebook ceased to exist tomorrow? No. I literally just came back from my break from it, so it'd be more funny than anything. The universe's way of telling me "nah, son." Who do you know that wears the most makeup? My friend Summer, but then again she's a cosmetologist. Have you ever had bronchitis? No, thankfully. Jason had it BAD once and I will neeever forget that cough, good Lord. Do you like to wear makeup? I hate applying it more than anything. Like, I love that it can help me feel prettier, but I pretty much never wear it because it's just a pain to put on, especially by myself because I have bad tremors in my hands. How many times have you been to the ER? Way too many times for being suicidal. How often do you feel lonely? Honestly, pretty much always. When are you most uncomfortable? I dunno, man. I'm always uncomfortable about one thing or another. Has anyone ever revealed a secret about you? Not that I remember... Have you ever revealed anyone else’s secret? No, that is such a shitty thing to do. Have you ever had a family member/friend that was hospitalized? Yes. Have you ever been in trouble with the law? No. Is there anything you want to experiment with? I mean, nothing that quickly comes to mind. There are things I want to try, but nothing major. What do you hope happens to you after you die? Mixed feelings. Sometimes I hope there's some sort of nirvana-like state we experience, I think it'd be wonderful to be reunited with loved ones, but I also sometimes think it'd be best if we just... stopped existing. Consciousness just stops. I dunno. I'll find out eventually. What is the most disgusting thing you have seen in person (not on TV)? Probably a maggot-infested deer corpse that I faintly remember from where I used to live. I thought it was the sickest thing ever lmao, in both senses. What is something others make fun of you for? Always holding some sort of technology. Just don't fucking comment on it. It makes me self-conscious as hell. Is your life turning out like you pictured it would? QUITE THE FUCKING OPPOSITE. Do your initials spell out a word? No. Has anyone ever given you roses? Yeah. Last baby you held? My older sister's youngest daughter. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or groomsman? My aforementioned sister's. What is something you would never do to your body? I mean, there's a large number of things. There are certain piercings and tattoos I wouldn't dare to get, I plan on taking care of my hair as best I can to avoid ruining it despite wanting to dye it a lot... *shrug* Stuff like that. How are you planning to decorate your house for Halloween? I don't know if we'll decorate. We haven't really for a few years now... I don't have the motivation to do it myself, and now that it's just me and her and I'm grown up (I know, I'm laughing too), Mom doesn't really bother with doing it. I know I DO want to carve pumpkins this year, though. Dunno what, but I'll figure it out. Ever lived in a trailer park? No. Do you like salsa that has fruit in it? NOOOOOOOOOOO Can you count in binary? No. Do you like hard or soft pretzels better? I'll eat both, but I have a strong preference for soft ones. When was the last time someone kissed you on the cheek? Who was it? I'm sure that was either my niece of nephew when I was leaving their house when I last visited for Ryder's birthday. What kind of ice cream did you eat last? Where’d you get it from? It was chocolate. I had a scoop at the aforementioned birthday party. Do you like flowers? What is your favorite kind to receive? I love flowers. I don't have a favorite to receive, really. Have you ever unblocked someone that you blocked before? Yes. Has anyone slapped you across the face before? If so, why? No. Do you prefer to have more or less in common with your significant other? I like to be pretty similar. Would you take a shot of heroin for a million dollars? No. I don't fuck with that, even for that much money. Why don’t you talk to your ex anymore? He wants nothing to do with me. Do you think it is okay to drive while high? Obviously not...? Do you find Halloween or Valentine’s Day more exciting? Halloween. Has anyone you know ever had serious surgery before? Yeah; my mom immediately comes to mind in both instances she had cancer. When she had kidney cancer, the tumor was larger than the kidney itself, and she lost the entire organ. When she had ovarian cancer, she had to have a complete hysterectomy because the cancer was EVERYWHERE along her reproductive system to an almost fatal degree. My mom's pretty metal. If you had the last person you kissed’s Facebook password, would you go snooping through their stuff? Why or why not? No, because that's a violation of privacy? You don't do that shit. Have you ever fainted? If so, when was the last time? If not, have you ever came close to? Yes. The only time that I remember was maaaany years ago, like, maybe '14. I've nearly fainted plenty of times since then for various reasons, but mostly just from low blood pressure. Ever take a keyboarding class? Do you type using the skills you learned in that class or how you used to before you took the class? Yes; I believe one course was mandatory in middle school. I type the proper way, yeah. Ever cut your hair (the entire thing – not just the bangs or a little part) yourself? Noooo. Would you ever open your own business? If so, what kind of business could you imagine yourself having? Well, I'd like to be a freelance photographer, but to be real, I'm starting to loosen up on that dream. It's been too long, I just don't see it happening anymore. Baby steps are one thing, but I've barely managed any of those in forever. Ever meet and talk to someone from an online dating site? No. Would you date someone you weren’t physically attracted to? Why or why not? Yes; I've done it before. I just care way more about emotional chemistry. Besides, historically, me liking someone for their heart has made each person a lot more attractive to me as a whole. Last person to hang up on you? I dunno. What’s your favorite scary movie? The Blair Witch Project. The second one is great, too, plus The Crazies. Which urban legend is your favourite? Oh man, you can't ask me this. I LOVE cryptids and conspiracies 'n shit. Are any of your fears completely irrational? Yes, like whale sharks. A whale shark ain't gonna hurt u boo but I see that mouth and am like no thnx Where is the light switch in your room? Funnily enough, I don't have a light switch; there isn't a ceiling light in this room. I instead have two table lamps that I can turn on on either side of my bed. Would you make a good lawyer? Hell no, I cry when I argue lmao. It's funny tho because I remember in TWO instances, in-depth surveys recommending jobs for you brought up me being a lawyer, and each time I was just like,,,,, no???????? Why did your family decide to live where you’re living now? It was more necessity than anything. Our old house had a LOT of issues to it, and with Mom's cancer diagnosis, she needed the cleanest environment possible, and that was NOT our old place. The house we live in now is owned by a family friend, and when the previous owner died, the timing just... kinda worked out to where that family friend I mentioned helped us pay our way into here. We really don't like this place because of the location, but it had to work. What was the best pet you've ever had? All things considered, I have to hand it to my boy Teddy. That dog was someone special. Very, very special. If you were allowed one murder without punishment, would you do it? Nah. Name one song you can play on an instrument, any instrument! I can probably still slam out "Hot Cross Buns" on a recorder. \m/ Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle? Noooo, I'm scared to. On the opposite sex, do you prefer muscles, average size, or scrawny bodies? It depends on the person, ig. I can be attracted to any of those. Just not EXTREME muscle. Not my thing at all.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''thoughts & prayers" by motionless in white

[cringe-phase]

Sisterhood of the Travelling Deleted Scene

This is the deleted alternate beginning of....many abandoned ideas. First it was gonna be a quick one-shot to practice stuff in preparation for a multichapter project, but I decided to just start the multichapter instead. I tried to make this work for the beginning of “One Two Three (Four)”, but I was too sold on Draxum being the cause for Don’s amnesia, so I rewrote it and liked the new beginning better anyway. Then I tried to make it work for two other ideas that I quickly lost interest in for being too serious--I like my lighthearted moments too much. 

Nowadays I think it's destined to be forever unfinished...but I still dig it even without a use...so, here just take it in it's abandoned and unedited glory.

Summary: The brothers stumble upon the Foot Clan and get into a fight on the rooftop when Donnie gets blindsided. Takes place early Season 1.

Disclaimer: characters use the concept of using a crutch as an insult and is not a reflection of what the author thinks.

It had all started so well.

Four brothers were on their way to their go-to pizza joint. The pizza joint was in no way their favorite, it was simply their go-to because it was owned by a Yokai and therefore they could dine in for once and enjoy an atmosphere that wasn’t a sewer. They adored their home and all, but no windows and the same view day in and day out would be a bummer to any free spirited teen. So off they went for some well-deserved pizza and socialization on the same night that the universe decided that today it was going to roll the dice.

It was Mikey that spotted the breaking and entering taking place. The little orange turtle immediately pointed it out, and much to the middle children’s displeasure, Raphael’s moral responsibility steered them to the crimes instead of the pizza. Said displeasure was expressed through groans and claims of “The police can handle it, not every little thing had to be our problem bro”, but was quickly silenced by the reveal of the perps and this week’s villain of the week.

“It’s those flame head guys again. For such a big city, we run into them a lot.” Raph pointed out, scratching his chin as they perched on the building next door.

“I think they have a stealing things obsession--”

“Kleptomania.” The purple turtle interrupted the slider.

“--they’re always breaking and entering when we find them.” Leo ignored his brother.

“I mean, that’s probably in the bad guy job description.” Michelangelo said from his seat on Raph’s shoulders.

“....D’you think they’re hiring?”

“Leo!” Raph scolded and Leonardo immediately shrugged unapologetically.

“Whaaat? It was just a little question.”

“No, you are hereby BANNED from joining the bad guys!” Raph nodded at the finality and jumped to the roof of the break-in-in-progress.

Donatello casually joined his blue banded brother’s side as Raph leapt with Mikey still on his shoulders. Leo glanced at him curiously.

“What do you think the pay’s like? Theoretically.” Donatello asked with an interested tone.

“Better than ours probably, considering we don’t get paid.” Leo crossed his arms to pout. “But Raph said we can’t. Oh well.”

“No,” Donatello smirked and looked at his brother slyly before lightly bonking him on the forehead with his tech bo, “Raph said you can’t.”

“What?! Donnie?!?!” Leo gaped as his snickering brother leapt off to join the rest of their quartet. He pouted as he jumped after him, fully intending to snitch on the purple teammate but immediately getting shushed by Raphael upon joining. “I didn’t even--”

“Shh, Leo, look!” Raph gestured to the turning of the knob of the stairway door to the roof. “Hide, now!”

The turtles had just barely all gotten into hiding spots as the door finally swung open, the hand on the doorknob connecting to a large brutish guy. The Brute held the door open for his skinny partner.

“I thought I heard something out here.” The Brute said, suspiciously looking around.

“I told you,” His Lieutenant said, “You need to get your tinnitus looked at.”

“I don’t think it was that Boss, it’s not even that bad.”

“Then you’re being paranoid.”

“I’m tellin’ you, Boss, I’m onto something! Everywhere we go those turtles show up!”

“Hey!” Although Mikey was whispering, he was doing so quite loudly. “They’re talking about us!!”

“Mikey shhh!” Leonardo slapped his hand over his younger brother’s mouth, nervously peeking back around the structure they had both hidden behind. The Foot representatives hadn’t noticed them, and Leo breathed a sigh of relief. He could see Donatello hidden smartly behind the structure with the door the bad guys had walked out of, ready to move counter to their location to remain hidden indefinitely, and Raphael was camouflaged as a gargoyle perched on the corner of the building just out of the light enough to be a vague shape. He looked to his brothers to gauge what the plan was going to be and ignored Michelangelo’s tapping on his wrist. Were they going to wait out the bad guys and follow them in like real ninjas? Were they going to ambush right here right now? Was Donnie hacking into the building right now to locate what the Foot was even here for?

All of a sudden Leo’s hand was warm and wet. “Ew!” He recoiled his hand back and looked at his little brother, betrayed.

“Hey, who’s there?!”

Leonardo hastily started wiping his hand on his brother’s head, ignoring his quiet protests and peeked out from their hiding spot and met the eyes of the Brute. He yelped and quickly hid again.

“Look! Boss it’s the turtles, I told you!” Brute exclaimed. “They’re here just like always!”

“Enough of your conspiracies, just deal with them!” The Lieutenant commanded as he started folding paper faster than an average human.

Leo swore as the Brute ran towards them and grabbed Mikey by his shell to move him out of the way while he wiped his own spit off of himself. A fist came down on their hiding spot as Leo threw Mikey out of the way and ran the opposite direction to get some distance.

“Leo! Mikey!” Raphael sprung into action as the Brute turned to pursue his blue brother. A trio of origami soldiers poofed into existence and cut him off. “We were supposed to be stealthy!”

“He licked me!” Leonardo complained as he dodged a swing and backflipped onto the roof of the doorway. “It caught me off guard!”

“Mikey!” Raph scolded as he blocked a punch and threw one of his own.

“I couldn’t breathe! He wouldn’t move his hand off of my face!” Michelangelo defended as he ran to assist his eldest brother.

“All of my brothers are evil!” Leo continued on his drama streak.

Donatello emerged from his hiding spot in the shadows and landed a surprise attack on the Brute, his tech bo in its hammer format and sent the bad guy to the ground momentarily. “Can we save the family bickering until after we are no longer in combat?!”

“Why do you say that like this is a game?” The Brute asked from the ground, curious. “This is real life, kid, we could really hurt you.”

“Roll for initiative!!” Donnie yelled as a battle cry, using his bo to vault himself over the Brute and toward the Lieutenant, smacking into a hastily made Origami soldier instead while Raph hurried to cover him.

Combat was successfully initiated. Origami soldiers were created and fists continued to fly. (Do better transition)

“As much as I love the impromptu field test of my new tech bo addition,” Donatello swung his bo with a manic grin, the chainsaw application tearing apart the paper soldiers like they were butter, “We’re going to be here all night if we don’t focus on the source!”

“Oh yeah,” Michelangelo thoughtfully added, “Like the spawners in Minecraft! They’re just gonna keep coming forever.”

“I mean, we actually have a decent handle on this. Plus I’m kinda having fun shredding these bozos!” Leonardo had taken the opportunity to practice some more extravagant swings and flourishes. Since upgrading to a single sword he’s been curious about pulling off one of those fancy spin-attacks he’s seen on some fighting games.

“Yeah I’m down with downing more of these paper pawns!” Mikey agreed, eyes alight as he set some origami soldiers ablaze with his mystical kusari-fundo.

“Ok so we got two for having fun with these jerks for once, how about--”

“Raph would like to hurry and be done here!” Raphael yelled from his side of the battlefield, punching a stray origami soldier as he dodged another punch from the Brute.

“You didn’t have to crash our outings, y’know.” The Brute mumbled.

Donatello sighed as he shredded another group of paper soldiers into confetti before activating his battle shell to initiate hover mode. He flew above the field, his younger brothers immediately picking up his slack and cutting through his share of soldiers, and zeroed in on the Lieutenant frantically making origami man after origami man like a well-oiled machine. Honestly, the speed in which he pumped those out was admirable. But, Donatello wanted pizza and he was bored shredding the same kind of enemy multiple times a minute. 

Spinning his tech bo back into its bo format, Donatello dove towards the Origami-spawner and swung, narrowly missing as the Lieutenant jumped out of the way. The jets of the Battle Shell whirred as he hovered back into the air, glaring down at the man with a cocky grin. A better challenge than the Origami Soldiers, which the flame-headed human kept folding and throwing into the battle as he dodged Donnie’s dives.

Donatello swung again and the Lieutenant ducked and blew a raspberry, much to Donnie’s annoyance. He could feel his eye’s want to twitch but honed his willpower to keep it at bay, honing in on taking this disrespectful villain down.

His tunnel vision left him blindsided by the paper hand that grabbed his ankle and slammed him back to the ground, another immediately jumping into his shell jet pack to sabotage any attempts to flee to the skies. He glared up at the human puppeteer, grin replaced by a frustrated frown.

“Not so tough without your little gadget, are you?” The Lieutenant rasped, now the one with the cocky grin. He circled the turtle, examining the spluttering jets shredding the fingers of the paper soldiers holding it down. “Why does a turtle need a fake shell anyway? Is it like a crutch?”

The “crutch” in question immediately sprang free from the purple turtle’s back, sending it and the paper man attached to it directly into the Lieutenant. Donatello immediately swung his bo to swat his legs free of soldiers and jumped to his feet. His glare upon the man sharpened.

“I don’t need a crutch.” He growled, softshell open to the evening breeze. It wasn't a sensation he was used to, but capable of ignoring nonetheless. He raised a judgmental eyebrow at the twitch of the Lieutenant's hands on paper. "Do you?"

The Flame Head immediately halted his folding and narrowed his otherworldly eyes at the teen. He knew he was being baited--he did the same thing to the kid--but he couldn't back down lest his honor and ego take a hit.

Lou Jitsu would meet the challenge head on.

The Foot Lieutenant tossed his paper to the side and took a defensive pose.

#tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #fanfic #My writing #there the shakles are unbound go be free my child #cringe compilation

[cryo-lily]

Scars (Part 1)

Well it took me over a year to finally start to post this, so no excuses just a meager hope that this is the start of more stories of Sole Survivor: Lily Cromwell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where did I put it…? Shit. I thought I-Ah! There you are!” Piper mumbled under her breath trying to find her key to Home plate that was somewhere in her coat pockets.

Lily had given her a spare key to Home plate a while ago but to Piper it was still a new feeling for her. Lily was always super protective of her, as she put it, “Scavver’s Paradise”. So it surprised Piper when Lily gave her the only spare key to her new house in Diamond city; Lily was there for about a week or two before she initially gave the key to Piper in case of an “emergency” and also because they were friends. But as time went by and when their relationship grew closer the excuse of emergency turned more into the truth, which was: Piper was one of the few people that Lily could trust with anything.

Piper finally fished out the key when her fingers felt the familiar metal of the key chain, even in the dim evening lights of Diamond City’s market the old key chain sparkled slightly. It couldn’t help but make her smile slightly every time she saw the half rusted witch key chain Lily found on one of their scavenging trips to her hometown of Salem. Lily wouldn’t out right admit it but Piper knew finding something so little from her past meant the world to Lily. That’s why it surprised Piper a bit when Lily gave it to her with the spare key; Piper tried to give it back knowing how much finding it meant to her. But Lily wouldn’t hear of it, she wanted her to have it.

Piper rubbed the old key chain between her fingers as she began to get lost in thought of recent memories, but shook her head quickly to snap her out of it. She was here for a reason. Nat was out at a friend’s house for the weekend to work on a project for school and Piper didn’t need a second invitation to use the opportunity to spend the weekend at Home plate with her girlfriend. So she decided to try and surprise Lily by quietly opening the far door of Home plate, easy enough assuming the coast was clear on that side of the house. Piper quickly and as quietly as she could unlocked the door with her half rusted key and let herself in. But not before quick poking her head to see if the coast was clear. No sign of Lily yet.

Upon closing the door Piper’s eyes adjusted to the even dimmer lights of the warehouse side of Home plate. Lily always was a Night owl and never really preferred too bright of lights on unless she needed to do something important, which Piper didn’t mind all too much. As Piper began to enter she noticed everything was mostly normal except all of the crafting stations and tools were noticeably used and strewn about a bit carelessly. Curiously besides most of the tools were some pieces of scrapped wood and some old half filled paint buckets with big black letters on them spelling “CHROME”. She wondered what new project Lily was up to this time as she passed by the small junk pile. This wouldn’t be the first time Lily found something along her travels that she wanted to fix up or tinker with, and it certainly wasn’t the last. With Lily though Piper knew it could be just about anything with her range of interests, and how easily she could be side tracked by the smallest things.

When walking out of the warehouse side of Home plate and toward the living area Piper dropped her backpack next to her desk Lily had given her in case she ever needed a quiet place to work on the paper away from Nat or whoever else. It was just as she left it, typewriter pushed to the back, various pencils, pens and paper strewn about everywhere, some of which were rough drafts for possible articles in the paper. Near the edge of then desk there was a half filled ash tray next to an opened pack of smokes lying on its side with one too many cigarettes to be considered empty and one lighter that desperately needed to be refilled.

“I really need to clean you one of these days...” Piper thought to herself as she sighed seeing her messy desk with some of her bad habits on full display.

Some of the more frustrating stories to write she worked on here where Piper had a bit more privacy than at home. She loved Nat with all her heart but Nat was still her little sister, and a nosy little sister at that; one that tended to take Piper’s personal journal far more than she’d ever like her to while she’s busy working. Which eventually led to Piper spent more and more time working there to focus on the paper when Nat was being a little too much for her to handle.

Carefully Piper crept up to the edge of the wooden floor where the living area began; she did not want to alert Lily just yet so it could be a little bit of a surprise. But before she rounded the corner Piper noticed Lily’s black jacket haphazardly thrown on the couch on top of a backpack with a Mintuemen patch that has seen better days. The entire house was unusually quiet and dim even by Lily’s standards, and something felt off Piper knew that much. Things around here were usually not this quiet, there was some music always playing weather it was from Diamond city radio or one of the many music holotapes that Lily had salvaged over time. But before Piper could round the corner to investigate further, a soft voice could be heard mumbling from the bedroom upstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

               “Jesus H... Look at her. Looks like she lost a fight with a Deathclaw-“ A distant voice faintly echoed in the back of Lily’s mind. “Or several Mirelurks…” Another voice joked in response.

Echoes of conversations Lily overheard that didn’t bother her at the time but ones that she wishes she could forget. But that didn’t stop her mind from dwelling on things she has overheard others have said about her over the course of her journeys up to this point. This was nothing new in her life, pretending not to overhear such comments made about her one way or another. Though Lily has learned to deal with it in her own ways, albeit in some unhealthy ways, but in the moments of quiet where her mind can wander freely was far from peaceful in recent times.

               Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes as she tried to relax her mind. The last thing Lily needed right now was her inner critic using other’s words to fuel her own self doubt, she had enough problems with herself without more fuel added to that dumpster fire. Slowly her mind was quiet once more and she was left alone with her own thoughts once again. When she opened her eyes again she caught the gaze of her reflection again, the strange woman that she didn’t recognize looking back at her emotionlessly. The heavily scarred face staring back at her made Lily’s heart sank. Slowly her eyes began to wander down toward the floor away from the mirror the heavier Lily’s heart grew.

               “Maybe fixing you up wasn’t the best choice…” Lily lamented to herself quietly as her eyes drifted towards the floor halfheartedly before looking over the mirror she recently salvaged again.

On a recent solo scavenging trip she had run into an old Victorian-style standing mirror in desperate need of repairs, normally with things like this most decent scavengers would ignore it for something that they could turn a profit on. Almost no one would waste their time with some half ruined piece of prewar furniture. And normally Lily wouldn’t bother either, there were better things to fix up that were more worthwhile. At the time though, the then broken mirror she found seemed to tug at some deep within her, as if it was from a distant memory. So she took the parts of the mirror she could manage to save with her back to Home Plate to be repaired.

As Lily was repairing the mirror earlier her mind couldn’t help but wander back to simpler times of childhood; times when Lily and her childhood best friend would play hours of dress up when they were younger in front of similar mirrors. Her Grandmother, Agatha, always had antique Victorian furniture like this mirror around the family estate, as if an old Victorian manor in the woods wasn’t enough for the creepiness factor in Salem, but that was Grandma Agatha’s type of humor though doubling down on things to get a rise or a reaction out of people. Sometimes Lily missed Grandma Aggie’s sense of humor a lot nowadays more than ever. While lost in her memories it didn’t take Lily long to repair the old mirror she had found, and though it didn’t look brand new it still looked like the best damn mirror she’s seen since her prewar days.

But there was no denying how haunted by the past she secretly was, as much as she tried to hide it. This led to a number of times where Lily became enamored with some seemingly random prewar relic. Ask any of her closest companions and even they couldn’t tell you the answer why. Lily never explained why to them because she thinks most of them wouldn’t understand, as much as she loves her closest friends. Perhaps Nick would understand in a way, but Lily tended to suffer in silence about how the echoes of her own past haunted her. Though only a small few of her friends got her to even admit she’s haunted by flashbacks of her prewar life which was one of the reasons why she became randomly attached to some prewar objects or relics, this mirror was no different.

Looking over the mirror again Lily began to wonder if restoring the thing to as it was even a good idea at this point. It was only amplifying her self-doubts that have been festering quietly under the surface for a long time now. Closing her eyes again, Lily took another deep breath to try and keep her more negative thoughts about herself at bay. The silence in Home plate was almost comforting until a voice coming from seemingly nowhere broke through the somber atmosphere. Lily’s eyes shot open at the sound of the voice that only breaks her heart hearing it again. The surroundings of Home plate seemed to fade away into the dark around her as the mirror itself began to look like it almost brand new or antique even, and the reflections of memories past now staring back at her in the mirror, almost taunting her with how real they felt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lily stepped closer to the mirror checking to make sure she had her outfit in order, fixing her hair, making sure she didn’t have too much make-up on just yet. Lest her parents begin to wonder where she could possibly be going dressed up in such a way even on ‘All Hallows Eve’. Her parents were always too strict for their own good, wanting their ‘delinquent’ daughter not to ruin the family name in the town; despite the irony in their words. A voice began to call out from her bed across the room behind her.

“You can’t fuss in front of the mirror all day; it’s not like your parents will care either way if they catch us sneaking out again” the familiar voice echoed.

“Yea but if I keep up appearances they’ll be less likely to catch us, if you can keep your hands to yourself for more than five minutes-.” Lily smirked back at the brunette girl now leaning over Lily’s shoulder watching her fix her school uniform. The brunette smiled playfully in response as she began to slowly undo Lily’s shirt buttons from behind, which couldn’t help but make Lily laugh as she tried to playfully slap her girlfriend’s hands away. “Beatrice! Would you stop?! My parents could walk in and see us!”

“Then hurry up! We need pick up the others so we can get ready for our Halloween concert. Besides we both know we’ll need to change again away.” Beatrice responded a bit impatiently. “I already have the stuff we need packed and hidden in your car. We could make our grand escape right now! Your parents won’t even notice us leave… they’re too busy getting ready for the mayor’s Halloween fundraiser remember? You don’t need to over think this, we’ll be fine. We always are!”

Lily smiled even more as her girlfriend’s embrace turned from playful to more gentle and soft. Her impatience to break Lily away from her prison of a home life as often as she could was almost infectious. The two girls started to laugh once again after their eyes meet again in the mirror several times without either of them saying a word for what seemed like an eternity to them, before Lily gained the courage to break the silence between them after the laughter had died down.

“What would I do without you?” Lily leaned her head against the brunette’s, her smile melting away relaxed and contented.

“Lose sight of what’s important?” Beatrice coyly replied in return, playfully nudging her head against Lily’s.

“How can I when you’re stand right here?”Lily smiled back again warmly meeting her love’s gaze again before giving her a small peck on the cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh hey! You fixed up that mirror you found, it looks like you did a good job!” Piper suddenly chimed in as she wrapped her arms around Lily’s waist from behind.

Lily’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest as she was startled out of her flashback and her surroundings of Home Plate quickly faded back into view. The reflections of her past fading quickly away into the darkness again as her own reflection started to change slowly back to her present day self. Piper looked over her lover’s shoulder and noticed the solemn look on her Blue’s face as Lily tried to hide quickly wiping away some tears.

“What’s wrong?” Piper tried asking her in a comforting tone. Lily didn’t quite meet Piper’s eyes in the mirror. “You know you can tell me anything Blue.”

“It’s nothing…” Lily tried to evade the question, trying to avoid meeting the reporter’s eyes in the mirror. But she made the mistake of meeting Piper’s soft gaze for less than a second after she opened her mouth, which then turned the reporter’s soft gaze into more of a glare.

“What’s wrong?” Piper asked again firmly, letting go of her lover’s waist as she began to glare at Lily in the mirror. Piper hated it when Blue kept her emotions bottled up from her. She knew too well the toll that it takes on Lily’s mental wellbeing. Lily sighed heavily in response; the reporter always seemed to see right through her in times like these.

“It just-“ Lily began before seeing her reflection again and her heart grew heavy once more. Slowly she turned around and walked away from the mirror to lean against the nearby dresser, keeping her gaze locked on the floor. She didn’t have the heart to meet Piper’s eyes at the moment. “It’s just… The reflection has changed since I last remember.”

Hearing those words come from her Blue made the reporter’s heart ache. Surely there was more of an explanation behind this, and Piper intended to find out. Before walking over to Lily’s side Piper made sure to flip the mirror around so no more reflections could be seen. It seemed like the last thing Lily needed right now. Piper has helped Lily through some tough times before but she’s never seen her like this. Carefully the reporter walked in front of her lover to be face to face again.

“It seemed fine to me.” she causally said trying to lighten the mood, but received no response from the woman. Silence began to fill the air again the longer Lily didn’t reply. Looking over the woman who refused to meet her gaze Piper began to put the clues together. “Is this because of your scars?”

Lily closed her eyes tight trying to hold back more tears and avoid meeting Piper’s now concerned looking face. Her chest began to tighten the longer the silence went on and the harder it was becoming to stay silent around the reporter. Part of Lily still believing that she could handle this on her own while the other part also knowing she couldn’t handle this alone for long before it really started to effect herself, as if it hadn’t already. After what seemed like an eternity Lily finally gained the courage to meet her lover’s gaze.

Piper could now see Lily’s watery eyes trying to fight back tears as she finally looked up from the floor to meet her gaze. It almost broke her heart seeing Lily silently trying to deal with her emotional pain alone again. She wanted to say something, but before the reporter could do so her body instinctively embraced her Blue in a tight comforting hug. In the back of her mind Piper knew Lily would never outright ask for a hug, but at this point in their relationship she knew when Blue desperately needed one even if she didn’t say anything. Lily could feel the warmth from the reporter’s comforting embrace the longer it went on, and it wasn’t long before her heart finally gave in and meekly returned Piper’s hug.

Lily didn’t need to say anything in response; Piper knew the answer to her own question from Blue’s body language alone. This wasn’t the first time Lily had self-doubts grow from her ever changing appearance since entering the wasteland of the Commonwealth. But this was the first time Piper had seen it affect Blue so badly. Lily has always had a few scars since the day they met, Piper had on some level correctly assumed that said scars were something Blue had gotten in her prewar days, but the reporter didn’t press her lover on the subject. She knew Lily would tell her when the time was right. After what seemed like a long while, Piper was finally the first to break their embrace to say something.

“Did you want to talk about it?” The reporter pulled away from her to try and fill the silence between them; Lily not quite meeting her eyes again but nodded softly in response. “Okay, well how about you find a place to sit and I’ll get us something to drink. How’s that sound?”

“Okay…” Lily quietly replied as she moved away from the dresser to sit down on her nearby bed. “Maybe get some of the good rum from the fridge?”

“Of course, I’ll be right back.” Piper couldn’t help but smile at Blue’s sheepish request. Leaning over she gently placed both hands on either side of the woman’s face and gave her a long passionate kiss before breaking away to get their refreshments for the evening. The reporter smiled even more when she saw the slightest positive change in Lily’s glum expression.

Lily couldn’t help but smile a little herself after the kiss as Piper disappeared downstairs to procure their liquor for the evening. She wouldn’t lie, a nice cold bottle of rum sounded really good right about now after the depressing evening of doubting herself so far. As she waited Lily brought her legs up onto the bed so she could sit with her legs crossed, hands neatly folded while absent mindedly looking down at the hard wooden floor that made up part of Home plate’s upper level not really knowing what to do with her depressed self as she waited for Piper to return. But it wasn’t long before Piper came back upstairs with two large bottles of rum in one hand and a small plate of some Quantum Crunch doughnuts Lily had made not too long ago in the other hand.

“What no Fancy lads?” Lily couldn’t help but joke as the reporter handed her a bottle of rum.

“No, but I figured that these were more fitting for a relaxing night. Unless you don’t want them I can just throw them away.” Piper teased starting to slowly walk back down the stairs.

“What? No! I was just- Mmhm-“ Suddenly Lily was cut off by a doughnut being shoved partly in her mouth. Lily coughed slightly as she took a bite so she could respond again as the reporter laughed setting down the plate of doughnuts on the dresser before taking off her jacket to join Lily on the bed.

“At least you’re feeling a little better right?” Piper eyed Blue as she sat down to uncork her bottle of rum to take a sip.

“I’m getting there…” Lily followed suit opening her own bottle but taking a much larger chug from her bottle than the reporter. “You being here helps a bit… Helps keep my mind off of more depressing thoughts.”

“So, why is the mirror making you upset?” Damned if Piper wasn’t very perceptive of Blue’s emotions by now and very quick to the point when talking about them. “If this about your scars I don’t-“

“Why does it matter? I’m just a relic of the past… Relics get damaged all the time. It happens.” Lily said very dismissively, trying to avoid the reporter’s inquisitive gaze but to no avail. So she took another long nervous sip from her bottle of rum. But Piper saw right through her, she was avoiding the topic again.

“You do know it doesn’t matter to me, who cares what others might say? I like your scars. They tell so many stories. And I know every one of them.” Piper took another swig of rum herself without breaking eye contact with the woman sitting across the bed from her.

“Really… You know every one of the stories these fucking scars tell?” Lily looked at the reporter suspiciously not quite believing her. “There’s no way you know every single one of them. There- are too many…”

“It’s the truth; there are some things you don’t forget. And I know every single story your scars tell, even the ones not worth putting in the paper.” Piper very clearly meant every word she had just said.

“Even my prewar scars?” Lily asked raised an eyebrow half skeptically thinking she had finally stumped the reporter.

“Alright maybe I don’t know the story behind them yet but my point still stands.” Piper reached across Lily to grab a doughnut of her own, knowing exactly what she was doing. Out of the corner of her eye, Piper could see Lily blushing slightly while trying very hard, and failing, not to stare at the reporter’s cleavage showing from her tank top that she wore today; which couldn’t help but make Piper smirk as she sat back down after retrieving her sweet treat. “But I know how clearly painful it is for you to dwell on it so I have faith you’ll tell me that story in time when you’re ready.”

Piper was so patient with her, for all that Lily still kept hidden from her and she never pushed her to tell anything she wasn’t ready to. But as their relationship grew more intimate Piper knew she had to push a bit more sometimes just to get Blue to open up at all about her thoughts and feelings that she tended to keep bottled up far too often that was even healthy. And Lily didn’t mind all too much because she knew Piper meant well trying to help her cope with all the negative thoughts and feelings that have been building up for the longest time now. Stuff that she’d still refuse to acknowledge was a problem without Piper around. Lily was great at helping others manage their emotions, but horrible at handling her own; she’s been called cold-hearted and emotionless on more than one occasion because of it. Even then this was a very bad habit of Lily’s that on some level they were trying to overcome together.  

“Okay then prove it Ms.Wright, what are some of the stories behind these fucking things?” Lily gestured to herself, still not quite believing her lover.

“You still don��t believe me do you? Fine. How about this, do even you remember how you got this one?” Piper responded by half lifting Lily’s t-shirt to reveal her toned abs, and numerous other scars. But Piper gestured to one scar in particular near Lily’s left hip, along with a few other nasty deep scars that was ever so slightly darker in color compared to Lily’s pale skin.

Lily couldn’t help but blush slightly as Piper just nonchalantly lifted up her shirt to start poking various scars she was referring to on her lower abdomen. At this point in their relationship Piper and Lily were well past knowing every inch of each others’ bodies. But Lily was still caught off guard by Piper’s sudden gesture to prove her point. And it took a good portion of the reporter’s will not to stare at Lily’s abs more than necessary, she had a point to make to this woman and she was going to fucking prove it. Lily had become too self conscious about herself in recent months and Piper wanted to change that.

“I…” Lily couldn’t find the words to respond to Piper as she almost seemed to stare straight through Lily waiting for a response. “It’s from… that one time we were the only ones to respond to a settlement’s call for help.”

“So you do remember. And here I thought you had gotten so reckless at the time that you perhaps forgot when you even got it.” Piper let go of Lily’s shirt as she smiled at the woman.

“That… Doesn’t happen all the time...” Lily blushed a bit more as she tried to fix her shirt as the reporter smiled at her with an almost shit-eating grin.

“Then please, do tell what you remember. And I’ll tell you if you even remember it properly” Piper laughed slightly before taking a long smug sip from her bottle of rum.

“Well for starters it was back during my vault suit days-“ Lily started to reminisce ignoring the reporter’s sly smirk at the mere mention of that damned vault suit.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 4 oc #fo4 oc #Piper Wright #Lily Eleanor Cromwell #sole survivor #sole survivor x piper #Lily writes some stuff #more proper tags added later as I think of them lol #Hey part 1!! #I wasn't lying when I said I was working on it! #I just hit a creative brick wall of writers block lmao

[1358456]

Right/Wrong - 3

I really love this kind of discussion. A real shame that I can’t do this kind of thing more frequently. My family has the same view, so there’s no point in the discussion, and my friends don’t care and it’s always super weird to bring up very serious topics, so I never really get to do this.

There is a concrete answer. However, vast majority of the people don’t want to accept it. There’s a reason why vast majority of the scientists still cling on to the theory of evolution, even though all science points away from it. Because to accept the truth would mean that what they’ve been told before were all false, and that they have to change their lifestyle. How many people are going to do that? So they don’t.

The concrete answer has been found. Technically, humans started with it when Adam was created in 4001 (ish) BC. Then people forgot it, and got corrupted so much that in 2300 (ish) BC, everything was wiped out by water and reset. The geological evidence is everywhere. And even in culture. Why is the legend of a world-wide flood in every human civilization? And around 2000-1800 (ish) BC, the concrete answer was given to us once again in a more “concrete” fashion, in the form of actual books, aka, the bible. And fast forward, we forgot it again. And now we’re waiting in the last age, for the final judgment by fire. The last age began when Israel became a physical nation again, as written in Exodus.

... And if I don’t stop this particular train of thought now, it’ll go on and on, so... heh.

The book of Leviticus handles that. It’s... incredibly boring, to be honest, because it’s ALL about laws and rules, and most of them don’t apply to us anymore. Having roughly skimmed it the first time, I don’t know the exact specifics. But I do believe that if someone owns a land (ignoring HOW they came to own it in the first place), and lets other people farm on it, there has to be an agreement that was reached. Anything that does not match the initial agreement would be wrong.

But usually, human greed tends to take over. So those who already have a lot try to get more by f*cking over the weaker ones. But just because someone stole from you, it doesn’t mean that you have to steal from them. Responding to wrongness with wrongness doesn’t make anything right. It just makes you as wrong as them.

The bible is very clear on the matter of revenge. Simply put, don’t do it. It’s not your job. Just forgive. The reason for that is because you yourself is begging for forgiveness. Roughly paraphrased and using modern currency, it’s as if you owe your boss $5 billion, and you’re begging for forgiveness and leniency. And so the boss thinks for a while and decides to absolve your debt. And then you immediately grab your coworker, who owes you $1000, and start beating him, demanding that he pays you back. What do you think the boss is going to do, seeing all that?

It’s a biblical worldview. Anyone who claims to be a Christian should have the identical view. You can’t claim to be a Christian while claiming that the bible is incorrect. It’s like trying to plant a tree after you cut off its roots and base. You also can’t claim to be a Christian while accepting other worldviews. You can’t accept the truth and falseness at the same time. There is a solid, concrete correctness. Choosing anything else or anything in between is automatically wrong. That’s how logic works. Science and logic do NOT ever conflict with the bible. Because... who made science and logic?

The scripture is a flawless, unshakable foundation in which everything must be built. All philosophy has to have the basis in that scripture, because human knowledge doesn’t come from inside YOU. It comes from the outside. People don’t learn the truth by themselves. It has to be taught. So any philosophy made by a person who just sat in his room for a while, thinking about it, is not going to be an absolute truth.

So, morality. Where did it come from. Dig deep enough, and the only possible foundation is the bible. What about other religions, you could ask. Did you know? Christianity (and Judaism) doesn’t have a starting point. It started alongside the first human. Other religions have a starting point. Like... Buddhism. Starts with Buddha in around 500 BC. What was China’s religion BEFORE that point? It’s pretty hard to trace, given how a certain emperor burned all the books and buried alive all the scholars. But then you look at the ONE thing that was retained from before that point, the Chinese letters. Analyze those, and you realize that the ancient Chinese root religion is the same as Christianity and Judaism.

Everything has a source foundation. People forget about it all the time, but it has to be there. You can’t build anything on top of just dirt. You need a solid foundation. Religion, morality, science, philosophy... they all have the same base.

That said, all this might be a lot easier to understand if you were more... math oriented? Having been a “mathie” ever since grade 2, the mathematical approach to thinking has always been easier for me. So, for mathematical viewpoint... imagine if there was no point of origin. The entire cartesian plane falls apart and the coordinate system no longer exists. A coordinate (1, 3, 5) in 3D space, just lists the distance of that point from the origin. 1 unit in the x-axis direction, 3 in y, 5 in z. So if the point of origin is not (0, 0, 0), then everything is meaningless, and nothing makes sense.

I think this is incredibly important, because most people would have the same view. But at the end of the day, empathy is irrelevant to right or wrong. Also, this might not be super obvious, but... when people lost sight of God, the amount of misery that happens... can NOT be understated. Once the theory of evolution entered the education system in the US, and so the kids lost sight of God... divorce rates skyrocketed, abortion rates skyrocketed, suicide rates skyrocketed, SAT scores plummeted, gun/knife violence in schools skyrocketed, etc.

What does the theory of evolution teach you? That humans came to existence after billions of years of killing and extinction of other species, that the “stronger race” wipes out the weaker ones, and that you, as a person, is just a random one of these humans in a random planet around a random star, in a random galaxy. Physically, your size is nothing compared to the planet, which is nothing compared to the solar system, etc. So you are less than nothing. You live around 100 years max, in a planet that’s been around for billions of years. You are less than nothing. Who cares what happens to you? Your neighbors are your competition. If you don’t beat them, they will beat you. You are only alive because you survived. And for you to survive, it’s okay to do ANYTHING.

Compared to that, what does the bible teach you? This planet was created on day 1, and was refined over 6 days total. The entirety of space was made in the 4th day at once. This planet is infinitely more significant and important than any others, because this planet is where God created life. The first man was hand-crafted and was the only creation to be made in the image of God, and was the only one ordered to have dominion over the other creatures. Adam was meant to live forever, but he kind of f*cked that up. He still lived 930 years on a planet that’s been around for 6000 years. 930/6000 is a pretty decent percentage. Even nowadays, 120 (max) out of 6000 is a significant percentage. You are, as a human, VERY important and incomparably significant to any other creature, being specially crafted on a specially crafted world. Your neighbors are those who will work with you, cooperating.

And yet, what are you taught in school?

... Man, these posts are getting long. Haha. I pretty much wrote like a Legacy chapter’s worth of text in these three posts. But there’s so much more to cover. Hahaha...

I guess if people find these boring or “offensive” (somehow) or simply don’t care, I’ll stop.

[telltheworld-phff]

Chapter 49: Atrévete a soñar

Harry hadn’t anticipated that his girlfriend pregnancy would be hard for him as well. He didn’t want to use this card as he knew that a million thoughts were crossing Carol’s mind, and she might or might not have had the time to go over them and come to terms herself of this big life changing moment of their lives due to her completely packed work schedule... and she was the one growing a tiny human from scratch. It was her body handling all the changes that came with it.

He had made a promise that he’d do everything he possibly could to make everything as comfortable as possible for her. She wouldn’t be in need of anything on his watch; he made sure to keep her refrigerator full of healthy food and lots of snacks that she could pack and take to the office with her – sometimes going to the store himself -, he had asked one of his drivers to be alert to any calls or texts from Carol, as he was now on duty to use Harry’s private car to take her to and from work. She was getting nauseous when using the tube and he promptly suggested this new arrangement – which surprisingly, she had accepted without a fight.

He also made sure he was present on her daily life. Calling every day that they were apart and stopping by her place every other day. Sometimes she’d ask him to stay and sometimes she didn’t. Harry didn’t mind all the work to keep the ball rolling on his duty and job and to take care of his girlfriend and baby, nothing was as hard as to deal with Carol nowadays.

She was picking fights on the silliest stuff and that was driving him completely bonkers. He didn’t seem to win no matter what he tried and that besides being frustrating as fuck, also was tiring and annoying. He had to remember that she wasn’t like this all the time nor she would be after the baby was out, but the Prince was seriously considering that this baby would be their one and only child.

For the time being, he had nothing to do but get used to Carol’s mood swings by each passing day. Every day was a surprise where he didn’t know which Carol he’d get. The sweet one, the teary-eyed one, the bitch one or the wicked witch of the west one. He couldn’t deny that sometimes it was difficult as fuck to keep up with her snappy and bitchy attitude for no reason whatsoever.

The cycle seemed to be: she’d bitch him and then start crying because she didn’t really mean it. Or whenever he did something good for her (God forbid he sent flowers to her office just because!), she’d say that he was way too overbearing and fussy.

“Women get pregnant every day and everywhere in the world without your suffocating habits and they end up just fine without your overwhelming concern and need to keep me under your watch all the time.” she had said once.

Just to start crying right after and say that lots of women also yearned for their partner’s support and most didn’t have it at all during the pregnancy. And that he was just by her side, by choice, taking care of them. Loving and cherishing them, regardless of this being an unplanned pregnancy and that she was a heartless and mean bitch while he had all the best intentions on his heart.

Needless to say the couple were arguing more now than ever and most of the time Harry would take the blame or excuse himself out of the room to take a deep breath and to remember that his Carol wasn’t like this.

It also felt very weird to argue with an overly emotional pregnant lady.

He tried to remember that this was just a very hormonal version of the woman he loved. Also a test to see if what he felt for her would come out stronger after this trying time. It’s easy to love someone when everything is fine, but true love is proved when the wind is blowing hard and you have not choice but hold onto each other to make sure you (and her) are safe.

He knew that she was stressed with her Masters degree, still keeping top grades whilst having a full time job and working a scary amount of hours every week (which he had already asked her to take it a little bit slow) and also travelling with her project.

He did want her to take a break and take it easy. If it was up to him, Carol would spend her days resting and sleeping to her heart’s content – as she always complained about how sleepy and tired she felt – but wouldn’t dare to even think about suggesting about quitting her job. She’d throw a massive fit and say that she would keep earning her own money as she didn’t need or want his thank you very much.

Some days, and those were rare, Harry was lucky enough to get glimpses of his girlfriend – and that’s what helped to take a relieved breath: knowing somewhere deep down that ugly surface was his sweet and loving girlfriend.

She usually would ask for very weird combinations of food – which he’d always go fetch for her; and have an insatiable sex drive — that he’d be more than happy oblige; and apologize non-stop for being a bitch on steroids to him.

He would forgive her – of course, as there wasn’t anything to really forgive her for - and they would get to chat and try to plan their future as her bump would only grow from now on and they needed to strengthen their relationship and become a real team to face, first and foremost, their parents and then the Institution Harry belonged to.

“What do you want to do?” Harry asked in one of the few blissful nights where they hadn’t argued over meaningless things. They were relaxing on his bed, after an afternoon full of amazing sex that left both of them exhausted. He was lying on his back and had his hands leisurely caressing her thighs.

“Obviously I want you around and to keep the baby.” she was eating ice cream straight from the box. “The big question is: what can we do?”

“Well… I don’t even know what our options really are. Everything I think I know is just wishful thinking. We would need to face a meeting with the Firm and its minions to know for sure. I know that my father and grandmother will demand a wedding.” he side-looked at her, half expecting to have a flying spoon over his head.

“I really don’t want to get married on these circumstances.” she replied and he waited for her to finish. “I do want to get married someday but not just because you knocked me up. It’s the 21st century after all.”

“Although I am part of and represent an Institution that is stuck ten centuries behind. But never mind.”

They both laughed at that.

“I will ask permission for you to move in with me. Don’t think gran will oppose much to that as Kate and Will did it. Before you start your feminist rant...” he laughingly cut her speech, knowing that she’d come up with something to refute. “I know that you love your flat and that it is comfortable enough for the two of you and that you can pay all the bills with money to spare but...” he pecked her lips, to distract her – lest she started to yell at him after a perfect day - and stole some of her vanilla ice cream, making sure to avoid the weird toppings she added in there. “It’s not safe. For any of us. And if we would try and make it safe, it’d cost way more than renting a moving truck and a storage unit for your things as obviously we don’t need new furniture here, except for baby things.”

He could actually hear her mind running wild with thoughts and ways to refuse his offer.

“At Kensington we already have the privacy, the security system, bullet-proof windows, armored cars and 24/7 people on call whenever he or she starts screaming in the middle of the night and we need a rest.”

She smacked his shoulder playfully.

“But…” he continued. “If Gran says we can’t stay here, then I would gladly buy us a house. And pay for the security system and features.”

“You’re insane.” she stated.

“Why you say that?” he was confused.

“Buying a house just for this...”

“”This” Carolina” - he pointed his finger between them to emphasize his point - “is my family and I very much intend to be close by even though you seem to not stand to look at me for more than a few seconds these days. You would help me choose somewhere suitable for us, that has everything we need, and then we would move in together and not marry right away as it seems to be your desire.”

“Why do I sense there are other options that you’re hiding from me?”

“Well… The options of what we will be advised to do are endless. If we start playing “what ifs” and imagining scenarios that might be presented to us, we’d be here all night. There are, though, some options that stand out from these possibilities… For example: I might have to renounce my title.”

She had a shocked expression on her face.

“Says that Pa and Gran demand a wedding and we say that we don’t want to marry under pressure. We might be denied the request of you moving in. So then I’d need to move out and with that – no wedding, kicked out – the press will have a field day, change the public’s view on me and as I’d just be the prince who tarnished the name of the family, again mind you…” he laughed and continued. “Thank heavens Will and Kate have already two children to claim the throne and out goes Harry.” he joked.

“I’m sorry.” she said, already drying the tears after what he said.

He talked about it as if it was a joke but being part of royalty were what made Harry who he was. Give up on it because of her wishes was a very hard thing to do. She considered in that moment if she shouldn’t let go of her stubbornness and just get married so he’d get to keep everything that was rightfully his.

“In that scenario our child wouldn’t have a place in the succession line. We would have more freedom. This part is what I like the most of this option.”

“What do you want to do?” she asked him sincerely.

“Honestly I’d like to marry you. Pressure or not, if you were up to it we would go to the town hall tomorrow.” he waited until the shocked expression on her face faded. “We could live somewhere else than Kensington – don’t care much for that part. I don’t want our children to have titles. it’s a fucking burden to bear, but he or she will be upgraded to prince or princess whenever father is King anyway.”

“Do you think our marriage would work? I personally don’t think I’d be able to face a divorce. I want all of ‘until death us do part’.” she finished the ice cream and left the empty box on Harry’s bedside table and turned to look at him.

“Of course it would…” she looked at him pointedly and asked him to think with his mind and not heart. “Ok… thank you for the reality check. I think that we are very good to and for each other. Relationship is something you build and take care of each day. As long as we’re both committed to our success, I do believe we could go forever. We’re both children from divorced parents and I think we agree that we wouldn’t want that for our children. But also we wouldn’t want an unhealthy environment for them to grow up at, just like we did. So if it came to a point where our relationship became toxic, we would need to separate our ways.”

“That’s a more sensible response Mr. Wales.” she pecked his lips again.

“I don’t think it’s healthy for us to keep guessing what might happen. It’s way too many options. It’ll drive us crazy... I would rather think and chose something that is actually given to us to think about.”

“Do you think you can have an appointment with The Queen after my 12th week milestone?” she was biting her lips as a nervous trait.

“I shall see to it.” he answered.

“Then we will be presented with options and decide what’s best for our family.”

“Ok...” he helped her to lie down. She was wearing one of his pajamas shirts and her ten-week bump showing. He caressed it and then placed a soft kiss on it.

“I do want to tell my mom first. Can we?”

“We can do whatever you want, darling.”

“So after we pass that milestone, I will call her and then we will sit with The Queen to discuss.”

“In the meantime I will do my best to keep you hidden.” he said.

“Which won’t work as we have Tommy’s Christening to attend.” she laughed.

“And are you OK with that?” he was still caressing her bump. “I know that you want to go, but don’t you think it’d be better if you stayed home? Or maybe just attended the reception afterwards? There’s a great chance of being spotted. Are you ready for it? Your life as you know it will be forever changed… and for that I am deeply sorry.”

“Well… I don’t want to miss it and sooner or later I will be spotted. We won’t arrive together or sit together during the service. But I do think the press will put 1+1 together and link me to all other photos… As I will be the only unknown person there. And I know what I’ve signed up for upon agreeing to be your girlfriend and carrying your child. No one will ever be ready for that. And I will need to rely on you a lot.” she sighed.

(…)

Carol had asked Hailey to design something for as she had no idea what to wear on a Christening. She had been flattered when Lara had sent an invitation that said “Honorary godmother” for her, she truly wasn’t expecting an invitation to such an intimate and formal event. 

She was at her sister’s studio – which was a spare room at her house – surrounded by lots of fabrics, sketches, pictures and at least three sewing machines. This was the last fitting of the pink dress Hailey had said would work for a morning event.

“You really should stop eating junk food Carolina.” Hailey said when noticed that the dress wasn’t closing as smoothly as it was three weeks before. “You’re getting chubby.”

Concentrating on not laughing or spilling the beans, she simply nodded.

“Thank goodness the Christening is in two days or I’d have to loosen up this dress, again.” Hailey said clearly irritated. “Never show up on time on fitting days and when you do show up, you’ve gained weight. Good Lord.” she mumbled to herself and when finished, she let Carol look at herself in the mirror.

She was in awe. Even barefoot, without her hair done and make up-free she was feeling pretty. Which was a first ever since she learned she was carrying her bundle of joy. The dress had 7/8 sleeves, the front had a draped finish and the skirt that ended just above her knees was made of feathers in the same colour.

“It’s amazing, Hailey. Thank you” Carol said turning around to see. “I think I want you designing my whole wardrobe.”

“Let’s not get carried away, shall we?” Hailey joked. “Now you just need shoes and accessories. Please don’t ruin my creation.” 

“I might stop by at Harrod’s later and see if I can find anything.”

“Maybe go with a big hat to cover your face?” her sister offered knowing that Carol would have her life turned upside down any moment now.

“That’s exactly what I am going for.”

(…)

Carol had asked for a day off on Friday before the christening and packed everything she was going to need for the weekend affair. All godparents (Harry, Skippy’s sister Victoria, Lara’s brother Henry, Eugenie and Jake Warren) were to check in at the luxurious Luton Hoo Hotel for a welcome luncheon and to rehearse (Carol didn’t understand why a Christening would need a rehearsal but didn’t comment on it). Then the other guests would arrive on Saturday at noon for the Service and then attend a brunch afterwards. The godparents were expected to stay at the hotel and enjoy it’s spa, checking out only on Sunday evening after a thank you dinner.

Carol had to pack way too many outfits and right now she was fitting well into only half of her clothes because of her bump. She was accompanying Harry for the three day stay as per Lara’s request. The brunette had bought a small golden bracelet with Tommy’s name engraved as a gift and hoped his parents would like it.

Harry asked Bill to carry Carol’s luggage to the waiting car while he kissed his girlfriend and – when he checked they were truly alone - her bump.

“You both ready to go?” he asked.

“Yes! I need to see that little red headed cherub!” she said happily.

They went to the car, both sitting on the back seats, buckling up and talking animatedly about the party and Harry explaining what was expected of her. This was Carol’s first formal encounter with people he had known his whole life. Most of them were daughters and sons of his parents’ friends and they all have been a tight knit group ever since they were born. 

Skippy and Lara had opted for a small gathering of closest family members and a few selected friends – Carol was so relieved about it, she didn’t think she’d be able to face a big gathering right now. Thankfully she knew some of the guests that would likely attend as she didn’t want to be left alone while Harry was on godfather duty.

“So Eugenie is coming?” she asked.

“Yes… She’s also a godmother, remember?” he replied.

“Oh thank God. I think I only know her and Jack and Jake and Zoe. Are you sure Arthur and Alessandra are not attending?”

“Yes. Alessandra had to do something in California and Arthur went with her.” he traced the worry lines on her forehead. “Don’t stress too much, Carol. I will be by your side most of the time.”

“I know… it’s just…” she started and he waited. “Nevermind.”

“What is it darling?” Harry said holding her hand.

“I can’t help but feel inadequate to attend such an event.”

“It’s the Christening of your friends’ kid. How on earth can you be inadequate?” he was confused.

“Said friends are aristocrats, barons and baronesses... Close enough to the monarchy… and I’m… I’m just… me.” she said, not looking at him.

“Carol, trust me. Your accomplishments are way greater than what any of us will ever have. You fought your way through life to get to where you are now. We all just had it all handed to us on silver spoons, quite literally. If not actually handed, doors were opened because of connections and surnames.” he kissed her temple. “Also, if anyone think any less of you, it’s their loss. You did point out a few days ago that we’re on the 21st century after all.”

“Hopefully I won’t embarrass you. I don’t know a single thing about etiquette.” she said, biting her lower lip.

“I’ve done my share of embarrassment enough. Nothing you do will ever beat my Vegas trip. Don’t worry. If anyone treats you badly, let me know. Or just go find a familiar face to chat, Ok?”

“Ok. Thank you.”

“You’ve got it. Just keep your charming self and you’ll be fine.” he added kissing her knuckles.

She admired the change in the scenery as they left busy central London to the countryside on their way to Luton. Carol was still feeling uneasy, but decided to have some water to try and calm her stomach. Being driven on the “wrong” side of the road still scared her and she was trying to believe in what Harry had said and not what her mind was shouting at her.

The hotel was a newly renewed manor and it’s perfect tended lawn and lakes were quite imposing. Harry offered his hand to help her out of the car and they went to the lobby to check-in. He usually asked Bill to do it, but wanted to give some sense of normalcy to his girlfriend, so decided to do it himself. He obviously understood that Carol knew who he was and knew that he had some privileges and hadn’t to bother with some tasks as everything he could possible need would’ve been taken care of in a matter of seconds.

He also didn’t want to scare her away – or let her think that he was incapable of doing things for himself. He wanted to tone it down a bit, and let her see that they could mix her humble upbringing with his luxurious and privileged one. He was set to make an effort and be more hands-on on tasks that the rest of the world did on a daily basis.

“The rest of the world don’t go to a 5 start hotel for the weekend.” he thought to himself, shaking his head, while signing the paper the receptionist gave to him.

She couldn’t help but notice the clear shift on the staff behaviour when they spotted Harry. They all bowed or curtsied to him, all of them curious – but obviously not asking – as to who she was. Harry intertwined their fingers while he spoke to the attendant at the lobby, to reassure her. Bill and the other bodyguards appearing just seconds later with their luggage and attentively looking around the seemingly empty lobby.

Apparently they had a paparazzi free travel and he was thankful for that. Harry had booked the mansion state suite for them, which was bigger than her whole apartment. Their California king bed was so inviting and she wanted to take a nap so badly but knew that she couldn’t. As she was travelling comfortable – another reason to have been looked upon by the staff -, she knew that she’d have to change for the luncheon.

Soon, some of the hotel staff was unpacking their luggage and organizing everything in the walk in closet in full speed. She didn’t even have the time to ask them to leave it – as fast as they came, they were gone.

Harry was on his phone and she didn’t want to listen to his conversation, opting to go to the bathroom for a quick shower to help her to stay awake. It might have been the car movement that had her so sleepy. The bath robe available was so soft and slightly warmed that it almost made the somewhat “wake up” cold shower ineffective. She styled her hair in a sleek ponytail and opted to wear one of the dresses that concealed her growing belly. She applied make up – making it simple – and went to the bedroom to fetch both Tommy’s gift and her heels.

“You look amazing darling.” Harry said when he spotted her yawning. “Tired, huh?”

“So much...” she whispered.

“I will try to find an excuse for you, and then you both can rest a bit.” He said, kissing her neck while resting his hands on her belly.

“Good luck with that.” she laughed.

He helped her with her shoes and changed clothes as fast as he could to go to one of the banquet halls where the invitation said the luncheon would be held. He had one hand on Carol’s lower back, protectively and also to guide her through the doors. He could hear the footsteps of his bodyguards behind them and made a mental note to ask Bill to increase the distance between them a little bit. This was going to be a stressful event for Carol and he didn’t want her feeling suffocated.

Their heard Tommy crying before they arrived at the hall. Exchanging a concerned look, they hushed to the Victorian styled room. Lara was holding her cherub, pacing the room, making soothing noises while Skippy was searching for something inside the diaper bag until he retrieved a pacifier. Carol went directly to Lara.

“Carol! I’m glad you came.” Lara said, side hugging her friend while rocking the little boy and looking for her husband. “I’m sorry. He’s fussy today.”

“Is he okay?” Harry asked concerned.

“Don’t mention it! Hi Tommy.” Carol said in a sing-song voice, caressing his red locks. “Auntie Carol is here.”

“He’s fine mate. Have just woken up.” Skippy replied when arriving with the pacifier, giving it to his son who stopped crying immediately. He greeted his best friend and Carol, asking them to make themselves comfortable while they waited for some people to arrive to start serving the food.

“Carol” Lara asked after a few pleasantries were exchanged. “Do you mind coming with me?”

“Sure.” Carol handed her clutch to Harry to hold, grabbed Tommy’s diaper bag and followed Lara to the nearest bathroom that smelled like lavender which immediately made her head hurt and her stomach to turn, even before pregnancy she hated the scent to lavender. 

Thankfully she hadn’t eaten much until now. The room was large – like everything in this hotel it seemed -, with marble sinks and stalls, gold details, everything screaming “tastefully luxurious”, it also had two deep burgundy upholstered chairs

“It’s my turn to change this little man’s nappy and I think he’s getting hungry.” Lara said happily undoing his onesie buttons, while Carol handed her the wipes and a clean nappy. “I’m glad you came. We won’t have much time to catch up this weekend, though. But we should go out sometime. Maybe lunch?”

“We’ve been busy, haven’t we?” Tommy smiled melting both women’s hearts. “I wish I was busy with this little man… Office work is so boring.”

Carol disposed of the used diaper and arranged everything back into the bag while Lara sat on one of upholstered chairs and got ready to feed her baby, Carol sat across from her friend. She watched at how lovingly she talked to and looked at her son and how happy the infant latched on.

She noticed in that moment that she wanted that so badly. Her love for her child was already one of the strongest feeling she ever felt. She knew that her baby was her reason to believe in a better tomorrow and to fight for it. She knew she’d move heavens and earth to make this child protected. Her mama bear instinct kicked right in at full force.

Her hand unconsciously went to her bump caressing it. She wanted to be a mum and in that moment she finally figured out that she was going to be a mother in a few months’ time. She wanted to feel the first kicks, she wanted to hold her baby close to her and get to know everything about her little bundle of joy: his or her preferences, mannerisms, personality, dreams...

“Why are you crying?” Lara asked after she looked up at her friend and saw the brunette with tears on her eyes.

“It’s nothing...” Carol said drying her tears.

“Carol… Is anything the matter?” Lara was preoccupied.

Carol got up to fetch a tissue and dry her tears. She took a deep breath and smiled at Lara.

“I’m pregnant.” Carol blurted.

“Beg your pardon?” Lara looked at her with a shocked expression on her face.

“I’m pregnant.” Carol repeated slowly this time.

“What is it with us and bathrooms when it comes announcing pregnancies?” Lara laughed. “How far along? You weren’t planning to tell me, were you?”

“I’m ten weeks along, we found out a couple of weeks ago. And no, no one was supposed to know before the twelve week mark… but seeing you with him, I just realized that I want this so badly and these damn hormones made my mouth talk faster than my brain could think.”

“Don’t worry, your secret is well kept. I’d hug you but master here is hungry.” they smiled and Carol sat down again. “How are you feeling?”

“I didn’t have many symptoms before I found out, but then, I became tired, breasts sore, sleepy and snappy.” they laughed and Lara commented it was very normal.

“And how’s Harry?”

“Over the moon. I think he wants to spread the word like wildfire… He’s wanted this for so long.” Carol smiled caressing her bump. “But he’s into an overprotective mode that is annoying.”

“Expected. He will be like this for the rest of your lives… Stop fighting it and get used to it, Carol. After everything that has happened to his family, it’s quite obvious that he won’t let anything of the sort happen again.” Lara said. “I’m glad for you. They will be close in age!”

“Thank you for not pointing out the out of wedlock implicit in this news.” Carol said when Tommy unlatched and smiled at his mum.

“Well… you’re welcome? What are you guys going to do about it?” she gave the baby to Carol, together with a burp cloth while she clasped her nursing bra and adjusted the dress again. Carol was gently burping the baby.

“We will know for sure in two weeks. I’m trying not to think about it just yet.” she sighed.

“Do try to enjoy the peace while it lasts. We are definitely scheduling a lunch date after you have “The talk” and I will be all ears for you.” she kissed her friend’s temple.

After the baby was properly burped, the ladies made their way back to the hall where Harry had a glass of scotch on one hand, talking to Jake, Skippy and Jack, probably about football. Carol and Lara took their turns to greet the new comers, with Zoe and Eugenie cooing over the baby on Carol’s arms. Harry’s eye twinkled admiring his girlfriend thinking that soon, it’d be their baby on her arms.

Carol stood beside Harry, playing with Tommy only half listening to what people were saying around her.

“I see that Tommy’s stolen my girl.” Harry joked, caressing Carol’s lower back.

“I think it’s the ginger hair.” Eugenie joked.

“Of course it’s the ginger hair – and the cute face. It’s nice to look at one for a change.” Carol joked.

“Ok, gotta keep you too separated. You girls teaming up will be the death of me.” Harry joked.

Reluctantly Carol gave Tommy to his father while Harry introduced her to the people he knew. Basically everyone in the room was a Lord/Lady or Baron and she felt a little intimidated but didn’t let it show. Carol first met Skippy’s parents and his stepmother, she knew his father was one of Prince Charles’ best friend – and he was studying her. Clearly his friend would know that his younger son had a new girlfriend by this evening. She was polite but let Harry do the small talk. Then it was Lara’s side of the family, she was introduced to her father and brother. Skippy’s sister  was the easiest to get along with… she shared the same sense of humor as her brother’s.

Carol was relieved when she found her assigned place at one of the round tables spread against the hall. It had a round floral vase in the centre, cutlery (lots of it) were made of silver and the glasses were crystal. Harry was sitting at her left and Jack at her right, followed by Eugenie, Jake and Zoe. Knowing everyone made things easier for her and Eugenie kindly asked her boyfriend to exchange places so she could sit by Carol’s side. Both of them engaged on a conversation during the first course. Eugenie was discreetly pointing to the right cutlery without anyone noticing and Carol gave her a polite smile as a thank you.

“Don’t need to be nervous, Carol.” Eugenie said at some point. “You’ll get used to it. And thankfully the only members of the Royal family here will be Harry and I. You’ll do just fine.”

(…)

Carol excused herself from the rehearsal. She wouldn’t play an important part during the ceremony anyway and she wanted a nap. Lara, now being even more empathetic with her friend, didn’t fuss about it and Carol went to their luxurious suite and straight to the bed, not even bothering in changing clothes or removing her make up.

She woke up later with feather-like kisses on her face and slowly opened her eyes to a very handsome Harry.

“Hi.” he said smiling to her.

“Hi” she answered back.

“I’ve missed you” he said nuzzling his nose on her neck, giving her the now familiar goosebumps.

“It’s been only a couple of hours.” she caressed his beard.

“It looks like an eternity for me.” he was laying on the bed beside her. “Did you get the rest that you need?”

“I did, yes.” she yawned and stretched. “Fully charged now.”

They shared a laugh and Carol positioned her head on his chest and one of her legs between his. He instantly held her, playing with her hair.

“I’ve asked Lara for you to enter through the back door tomorrow. I think I’m not ready to share you with the world just yet.”

“Thank you.” she whispered.

“My heart almost skipped a beat when I saw you with Tommy today.” he said and she could hear the smile on his voice. “My girl with a ginger baby on her arms… If you weren’t pregnant already you’d be getting tonight.”

They both laughed hard at that.

“Don’t be so cocky.”

“It’s just… you know that you’re giving me something I’ve wanted for a long time. Don’t you?” he said after a while. “A family of my own to protect, to take care of and provide for. A child to teach lots of things – someone to be a better version of myself. Thank you, Carol. I know this is hard for you. But I promise to be there every step of the way.”

She was crying after he finished his speech and he knew it. He didn’t mention or made fun of her because of that, but he only held her tighter and kissed her temple.

(…)

Carol woke up early on Saturday morning. It took her a while to untangle herself from Harry’s arms but she managed it. Putting on the robe to cover her now naked body, she went to the living room space of their suite and asked for breakfast to be delivered for them. She took a quick shower and started setting up her make up and hairdresser station on the bathroom vanity when Harry woke up and went to her, hugging her from behind.

“Morning.” he said trying to open her robe and receiving a playful slap afterwards.

“Morning!” she replied.

“Do you have time for a quickie before you start making yourself even more beautiful?” he asked seductively.

“Now now Mr. Wales… we did have four very “longies” last night. You can’t possibly be still horny.” she said looking at him through the mirror.

“Well… your bigger breasts make me hard. I can’t help it.” he said circling her nipples with his thumb.

“If we start, we are going to be late. So, your Royal Horniness, keep yourself together and we shall deal with it afterwards.” she fastened the robe belt again while he pouted and sat on the counter.

“Why do you need all of this?” he asked pointing to all of the make up she brought, changing the subject and concentrating hard on other things so he’d get rid of the boner he was sporting at the moment.

“It’s not even enough and I want to look nice today.”

“You look nice every day.” he said while watching her washing her face and applying some lotions.

“Thank you.” she said looking at him and pecking his lips.

She started to apply her make up and he didn’t even wanted to ask what all of those things would do, deciding to take a shower before breakfast. She finished faster than he thought, given the amount of things she applied and they enjoyed the perfectly cooked breakfast before changing clothes. 

Harry wanted a picture of Carol wearing that pink dress and noticed that if she placed her hand on her belly, they could see her small bump that seemed to grow by the second. He smiled when mentioned it to her and she said that she would likely have a very big bump.

“You will be a very sexy momma.” he commented while holding her clutch and the present that they had forgotten to give on the day before and went to their friend’s suite.

Skippy opened the door to their suite and informed Carol that Lara was in the bedroom nursing. He and Harry stayed on the living room while Carol went on the search of the baby.

“Morning sunshine.” Lara said when Carol opened the door.

“Good morning!”

Tommy looked around and smiled at Carol before turning and latching once again.

“As soon as he finishes, can you dress him for me, please?” Lara asked and Carol agreed.

“We forgot to give you his present yesterday” Carol gave the small package to her friend. “I hope you like it.”

Lara opened it and thanked her friend for the bracelet. It was very delicate and simple, one that she’d buy herself for her son if she had thought of that and clearly a very well thought present for him.

“I loved it, Carol. Thank you so much.”

After the baby was well fed and burped, Carol dressed him carefully and combed his hair to the side. She then fastened the bracelet on his arms and left Lara alone so she could finish getting ready for them to leave. Upon entering the living room again, with Tommy smiling and happy, Harry’s heart filled with emotion.

“You’re going to kill me.” he whispered to her.

“Why?”

“You with him on your arms, you being so lovely to him and carrying our baby… I can’t wait until it’s our turn.”

(…)

Harry and Carol rode together with Eugenie and Jack to the St. Albans Cathedral. The car stopped first at the back entrance where Carol jumped off and quickly entered the church, finding her assigned place. And then stopped at the front of the church and sure enough, lots of photographers were waiting for them there. Harry and Eugenie waved and entered the church, waiting for Skippy and Lara to arrive. Harry was shifting his weight and looking where Carol was sitting still alone.

“Calm down, Harry. She’s just fine.” Eugenie mentioned.

“I don’t think having her here is a good idea.” He replied.

“Why not?”

“I don’t think she’s ready for what’s to come from the media once they realize who she is.” he sighed.

“It’s not going to be easy, we know that. But you love her and she loves you… and I think she’s a very strong woman. With our support she’ll do just fine.” Eugenie side hugged her cousin.

“Thank you for “our support” part. It means a lot.”

“I really like her…”

“So do I…. Jack, would you mind?” Harry asked.

“Right on it...” he pecked Eugenie’s lips and went to sit beside Carol. It was pretty obvious how she had relaxed after seeing a friendly face and they both started chatting right away.

(…)

The Service was very right to the point but beautiful and moving.

Lara had asked someone to decorate the church with lots of flower arrangements in a mixture of white Casablanca lilies, tulips and Lily of the valley. Tommy was as happy as he could be, trying the eat the program on his mum’s hand and smiling, up until the water touched his head but his daddy soon made him stop crying and cheery again.

Carol was paying attention and making sure she held the best posture as possible, as she knew that some of these people had Prince Charles on speed dial and she wanted to make a good impression.

Even though when you meet him you’re going to announce you’re pregnant… Not the greatest first impression will come out of that.

She shook her head to clear off these thoughts and smiled at her friends when Skippy waved at her from the altar. She was really fighting the urge of placing her hands on her bump and making a mental note of asking Harry how christenings were done in his family. She knew what they shared with the press, but didn’t know how the ceremony was held.

Lara requested everyone present to take a group picture, together with the priest before they left the church. Although Harry had tried to have her beside him, Carol ended up beside Jack on the far right of where he was. After the pictures were taken, Bill appeared signalling it was time to go and Carol left through the back entrance going straight to the waiting car.

At moment, as they had rehearsed, Harry and Eugenie left the church through the front door together with the other attendants and stopped to take a few pictures with his godson as Lara wanted.

Everyone else started to get into their cars to head to the reception whilst Harry, Eugenie and Jack  conveniently stayed behind to stop and wave to the press – just to make sure that Carol’s car would be long gone without anyone following.

Jack was the one driving this car and he could see that the Prince was nervous and he could relate to that… He was the one arriving at the family and even then it was very difficult. As soon as they entered the Hotel’s grounds – out of sight of the paps that began following them - Harry got out of the car before it even fully stopped moving and bolted straight through the corridors until he found the reception room. Carol was there, sipping on some water and he immediately hugged her.

“Are you alright, darling?” he was carefully checking her to make sure she wasn’t going to hide anything.

“Yes, just fine… I think I’m still undercover.” she said. “Bill is a great security man, Harry. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t like the idea of you getting discovered while pregnant...” he confessed.

“I know. I don’t either.” she chastely pecked his lips. “Let’s just not think about it, ok? Everything went fine and the other guests are arriving and you have more pictures to pose for.”

Harry went on godfather mode, still making sure Carol was within his eyesight.

The photographer Lara hired was good, getting all the “must have’ shots as quickly as possible and Harry wanted to have one of him, Carol and Tommy. When he saw the picture on the camera’s display, he knew that it was going straight to the mantle of his fireplace.

________________________________________________

A/N: I hope all of you are keeping safe and sane on this quarantine mode.

Thank you for your continued support! I love to read all of the messages you send me and hopefully you’ll enjoy this quit long chapter.

Xoxo

#Prince Harry #Prince Henry of Wales #Duke of Sussex #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Royal Fanfiction #BRF #PHFF #Prince Harry Fanfiction #When you tell the world you're mine #chapter: 49 #royalfanficcollection #royalfanficcentral #British Royal Family

[arcticdementor]

You might look around sometimes and think to yourself, a new America has dawned, godless, without the old restraints. Yellowstone, the Kevin Costner Western on the Paramount Channel is the best example I can summon to mind just now, and its third season has just started. It’s a 21st-century story of cowboys and Indians—with characters seeking freedom from law. Practically, this means they must constantly defend a way of life independent of the many bureaucracies threatening their livelihood, and they do so with terrible violence.

Taylor Sheridan is the writer-director behind Yellowstone, and the series follows the success of his movies, Sicario, Hell or High Water, and Wind River. These movies earned seven Oscar nominations, one for Sheridan, and about as many nominations in Cannes, including important wins. Sheridan was raised on a ranch, but his family lost it, so he went to college and Hollywood, recalling Sam Peckinpah’s story. After Clint Eastwood, he’s now our premier poet of manliness.

…

Like any man long in power, Dutton has many enemies, and the more they behave dishonorably, the more you see that he’s touched by greatness, since he has no desire to go hurting people and does not share their cruel contempt for justice or life. Many look to prosper in his place, partly by the prosperity he has made. Worse for Dutton, America has changed—from the national press investigating him to the new economy to the way historical grievances grant authority to demand change—everything is threatening his way of life, built around family, land, and centuries past and future. Indeed, loyalty itself is over and new identities are required, which are flexible and practiced in deception. To succeed in Yellowstone’s new America, it doesn’t really matter whether you know any part of the country or have done well by people, but whether you know how to manipulate institutions and please those who manage the most successful interests, which seem hardly any better than legalized conspiracies.

Like Hemingway’s marlin, which achieves its greatest leap in its death throes and expires at the top of the arc, Dutton is most impressive in agony. He seems superhuman compared to the new American elites. His handling of urgent problems makes him resemble the president—he is an executive. Meanwhile, egalitarianism has not created equality in America, but only a new elite, impatient, ignorant of the future, blind to necessity—thus, astonishingly able to manipulate the new systems of power, since these elites feel no concern for consequences. The real world, where people are tied to a place, to other people, to their past, and the good they pursue, is replaced by access to the institutions and finances that make the world work, which manipulate people’s lives indirectly, in unaccountable and unpredictable ways. Everyone’s tied into legal demands and their lives are increasingly regulated, but only people who know how to use the law to get what they want get ahead in this new situation. The first post-American elite is coming for the last cowboys.

…

The American Dream is over in Yellowstone, and billionaire gentrification is coming for the last refuge of manliness in a country that produces compliant subjects rather than free citizens. In this grim world, cowboys are stand-ins for the white working class. They don’t go to college and they work dangerous jobs without much healthcare and for little pay. They are not disrupting the economy. They are America’s past, not future. Their virtues are Stoic and this might simply mean resignation to death.

…

Justice is built on nobility, and in Yellowstone, Sheridan draws our attention to this through the characters’ relationship with their horses. So understanding horses is the core of Stoicism—the horse is the noblest animal and America’s love of horses lasted well into the last era of popular country music and the Western, in the 1970s, because a horse rider presents the image of someone more than merely human. It is a greatness available nearly to anyone, at least anyone willing to face harsh nature. Horses are everywhere in Yellowstone, so one might not read much into it. They symbolize certain virtues, however. The horse is a power that will obey the rider, but not against its own nature. To ride a horse requires endurance in face of pain or weariness, courage to face fear or whatever weakness might come, self-control in face of temptation, and moderation—those habits that make man thoughtlessly sovereign. Without these, you die when it’s suddenly dangerous. One cannot talk oneself into it and there is no technology to accomplish this, either. It’s a way of life, not a job. It takes long practice which allows you to understand yourself and develop self-discipline. As such, horse riding leads to a kind of self-knowledge.

…

The Duttons are not Christians, few of their like seem to be—not even the death of the firstborn leads to a church funeral. They believe in freedom and nature—ruling over the land, over the horses, over people. They despise weakness and treasure loyalty. They trust family, not morality. Compared to ordinary Americans, they’re shockingly aristocratic. They believe in choosing the means to defend family and their land because family itself is unchosen—it’s nature, and therefore reliable. But can they live in America, where most people have no family? They rely on their old-fashioned patriotism to defend the ranching way of life, but the country has changed without them and it seems they can either adapt and sacrifice their family, or stay loyal and lose everything.

…

The opposite of a man in America is a bourgeois bohemian, to recall David Brooks’s signal contribution to our sociology in Bobos in Paradise (2000). Brooks is a sophist for this class, so he will not tell the ugly truth—but Tom Wolfe did in A Man in Full (1998), and even scooped Brooks. It’s not an accident that he saw clearly: Wolfe was the poet of American Stoicism and understood the threats to manliness.

The people who define elite taste in America are themselves opposed to violence, but not because they are Christian or even moral. It’s because their own rule doesn’t require that they ever take any personal risks—poorer people do that, who live in other parts of town or are completely removed from sight by gentrification. Nowadays, the rich take no responsibility for the poorer or those suffering violence, or even ever shake their hands, which is why our cities are such madhouses. There is no noblesse oblige.

Sheridan wants to show the violence in America to rebuke this bloodless view of things. So in the first season we see, through the real estate developer drama, how the new American elite is moving in to remove the last ranchers. This establishes the difference between real men and those who want to rule merely through institutions and finance, as though history had ended and we’re just dividing up luxuries. In the second season, we see rule by violence, in order to understand the difference between men and beasts. Sheridan shows that not all who kill are the same. Only then is it possible to defend the ranchers against the bobos persuasively.

…

The older Americans were not sufficiently attuned to nature, because they believed in God more. But as the churches are emptying, people are looking elsewhere to learn who they are. Some turn to nature, because human beings are not trustworthy. We may say mankind is naturally perverse, always coveting and therefore often violent or treacherous, which is why harshness was required in the past, to establish property and then defend it. This is certainly Dutton’s view, who only goes to church once, to make a priest manipulate a parishioner into obedience. And as a family, the Duttons are only happy when they revert to their old ways, taking care of their herd from an improvised camp so far away from civilization there’s no cell tower in range.

The only way to end the human drama would be to stop being enviable. End greatness and thus end striving. On the other hand, to defend greatness is to defend suffering. This way, we learn that suffering builds character—it brings people together, as do common enemies. This problem, the future of America, is the show’s indirect concern. Is it possible to retain honor in a dishonorable world? It’s not obvious how we can defend freedom without honorable men making sacrifices. Nor how we can raise honorable men if we tolerate bobo elites who despise honor and use every institution of government and market to end it. Dutton raised his kids to correspond to his understanding of rule. The treacherous Jamie is a Harvard-educated lawyer who tasted the bobo life for a while, but in order to redeem himself, he works like hired help in the stables. Beth is a finance genius, which plays to her ruthlessness, but at the price of undermining her ability to love and trust. Kayce is the truest cowboy, but what makes him so loyal also blinds him to the complexities of 21st century America. They each amplify something in Dutton, but in this attempt to pass on the ranch to a new generation, it turns out honor and savvy have been utterly split apart.

This acquisitive capitalism that corrupts honor is the enemy that returns in the third season of Yellowstone. That’s what the name of the show is about—the place of nature in America. Is it a museum, a zoo we visit occasionally, enjoying the beauty after all the danger is under control, and the millionaire class gets extra privileges? Or is there also a human nature that we need to learn to respect by treating physical nature with some respect, lest our elites treat us like pets as well? To defend manliness in America, it may be necessary to defend wild nature. That is a preparation for political freedom. To go too far in the opposite direction is to treat human beings, but especially men, like savages—as our elites do to the urban and rural underclass.

The purpose of the show is to persuade Americans to believe in nobility again. To face cruelty and violence as a preferable alternative to institutionalized despotism. To accept America’s tragic past with gratitude for the freedom we still have, if we are willing to earn it again. We have had so much success, we’ve created a class who profits by this success without any connection to America or regular Americans. We need to educate new elites about what’s worth loving and defending. Sheridan wants to teach by tragedy, so his protagonists are essentially honorable, which is no longer tolerated in our storytelling. Americans have never accepted tragedy before but perhaps now we will, since our freedom is once again in danger.

#titus techera #law & liberty #yellowstone #tv review #never seen the show #but he makes it sound interesting

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: When in Gotham, do as Batman does

Summary: Desmond Miles, the mentor of Gotham, and Batman have a serious discussion. (Meanwhile, Robin shows the little Novice accompanying their local Assassin how to do the coolest flips.)

AN: AssCreed/Batman Crossover for the 2nd day of AssCreed Week - Assassin Brotherhood.

Desmond loved Gotham. It was like Florence or Venice or Rome, except better because it was his city. You could tell that it had been built on the bodies of Templars and Assassins alike, particularly the Assassin influence was hard to miss if you had their training. Every corner was easy to disappear into, the buildings were high and the houses crammed into each other to create one fast-paced track for rooftop chasers. Not to mention the abandoned underground railroad tracks or the catacombs sleeping even deeper below. Gotham was built for its shadowy protectors and took good care to hide them all away.

Shaun and Becca had declared him officially mad for settling in this city. He could have gone everywhere in the world. Assassins as skilled as Desmond were hard to come by and currently needed all around the globe.

But Desmond had died for their cause once already (and then been fished out of terror-filled green pits of screaming nails on blackboards) and so they had allowed him to pick.

And Desmond had chosen Gotham.

Or maybe the city had chosen him.

People didn’t really move to Gotham, Desmond had noticed. Nor did they ever leave despite having the funds or the motivation. They cursed and screeched and begged, but they never went further than a vacation away.

And some people didn’t leave at all.

It was a moderately warm September night still. They had been blessed with a warm summer, and its remnants were still chasing through the winds, rolling in-between the skyscrapers. Gotham’s chaos had been calm lately. It was only a question of time until the first Rogue broke out of Arkham again, but right now everything was still. It was one of those nights in which they actually had time to look out for the candles and the flashlights asking for their help. Desmond had sent most of his recruits out for training, errands and information gathering. Maybe also a little blackmail depending on how they brave they got tonight. Instead of supervising from their headquarters, Desmond had chosen to take their youngest recruit out. Though Jason, by all means, wasn’t really a recruit as much as he was a kid that had realized the city’s Thief guild might support him on the streets, but the Brotherhood could get him away from them.

Or as away from them as Jason wanted to be.

He’d seen Desmond teach the Novices how to do a Leap of Faith and that was it. He hadn’t stopped pestering Desmond about teaching him, even at the bar where minors definitely weren’t allowed in, until Desmond had agreed. Jason wouldn’t stop arguing that Robin couldn’t have been much older than Jason either when he had started tailing the Bat. However, Jason also didn’t know that Robin had been trained to be an acrobat (and unknowingly an assassin) from birth.

Desmond knew because he had made it his business to know what was going on in his city.

The identities of its brightest protectors were simply a part of that. Batman had been here before Desmond, had bled for this city. Sure, Desmond could argue he had died for the whole world, but at sixteen he had run away from it all, unlike Bruce Wayne, who had already known his destiny then.

This was also the reason why Desmond’s Brotherhood didn’t kill. He respected Batman’s code as the superior rule. Even law enforcement worked with him while they certainly didn’t know about the Brotherhood.

(Well, they did to an extent. You couldn’t miss the spray-painted As that had shown up all over the city, but the police thought those belonged to a random tagger or, at worst, a gang.)

It was another matter that had his out of town Assassin contacts roll their eyes and bite their cheeks at. Desmond had no problems with assassinations. He was freakishly alright with them so much that he wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out the Isu had engineered him that way.

However, their Brotherhood’s no-kill rule was the only reason the Bat tolerated their presence. Maybe the fact that they had quietly gotten rid of the Court of Owls had contributed as well. It wasn’t murder if you cryogenically froze them to be picked up by the Justice League later on.

The Gotham Brotherhood didn’t kill. It made them child-friendly enough that Desmond had given in to Jason’s demands and let the eleven-year-old become his protégé.

And so here they were, standing on a rooftop and waiting for the Bat to drop in.

“How much longer do we gotta wait?” Jason asked.

After tonight, Desmond would work on the boy’s situational awareness. He remembered a few games Ezio used to play with his recruits and their children to teach them how to observe. They also had the neat side-effect of detecting whether someone was predisposed for eagle vision. Desmond thought he had seen Jason’s eyes flash gold once or twice, the speed at which he managed to track down people certainly spoke for it, but he couldn’t be sure.

He knew Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson both had the gift though, and that Wayne was aware of it. You didn’t train with an old splinter group of the Brotherhood for years to be ignorant of eagle vision.

“Mask on, kiddo?” Desmond asked instead, studying the shadows to their right that had become just a little too dense.

He had felt ridiculous the first time he had put on a mask, he didn’t need one to obscure his face, but masks made people think of vigilantes, and it was better to be mistaken for those (and honestly in these times the border between Assassin and Vigilante had become thin) than be known as the Brotherhood. Gotham was mostly Templar free and Desmond would like to keep to this way. He didn’t need their attention, not when his people weren’t strong enough yet. Nowadays, Desmond was used to the weight of the mask covering his eyes. He had grown fond of the red and gold Venetian Rebecca had bought him as a joke.

“Never took it off.”

Desmond smiled. “Good.”

Then he turned back to the shadows. “Hello, Batman. Robin.”

Behind him he could feel Jason tense, looking around to spot the vigilantes Desmond had already identified.

“Mentor,” Batman greeted him and finally stepped forward, Robin following him easily, being just a step behind.

“Oooh, who is that?” The Boy Wonder asked, mustering Jason.

“My protégé. Don’t take him too far, please, he’s untrained still.”

“What do you mean ‘don’t take him too far’?” Jason asked, but Robin had already crossed the distance eagerly.

Desmond wasn’t sure whether Batman took Robin along to these meetings precisely to have him distract the companion Desmond had chosen to take with him or if Robin really was just that sociable. The Bat’s intentions were hard enough to read on the really good days and Desmond had better things to do than waste hours on that particular headache.

Within seconds Robin was talking with Jason, contributing most of the conversation, while Jason nodded at the right moments, his eyes never entirely leaving Desmond.

“He’s young.”

Batman too was observing the boys’ interaction. He had his arms crossed over his chest, suggesting a relaxed posture, but his shoulders were tensed.

“I have questions about Abstergo, Desmond Miles. And about those you call Isu.”

Desmond sighed. He had wondered how long it would take Batman to actually figure out his identity. They had pretty much erased Desmond Miles, or any other alias he had used before Abstergo had captured him, from history. By all means, Desmond was a ghost. But apparently, even death couldn’t keep the world’s greatest detective away.

“Alright, Mr. Wayne,” Desmond replied. “But does that mean I can take a look at the Piece of Eden you keep at your manor in turn? I don’t want to criticize, but these things really shouldn’t be handled by someone without experience.”

Batman fell silent. On the rooftop next to them, Jason was shouting in joy while Robin performed his quadruple flip for him. He should watch that jump. It was common knowledge, at least for those interested in acrobatics, that not many people could perform it – Gotham’s resident prince Dick Grayson being by far the youngest person. It was even on his Wikipedia page.

“And you have that experience?”

Desmond tugged at his hoodie’s right sleeve, revealing his black glove first, and then his burned arm beneath. The golden circuitry was shining brightly in the dark. Once he stopped using eagle vision, it would return to a muted yellow you could mistake for tattoo ink.

“You’re standing in front of the world’s expert on these cursed artifacts.”

His smile was weary, but there was no point in lying. Ever since his death, Desmond had been able to feel these remains of Eden if he got close enough to them. They didn’t make him uncomfortable, but he could almost tell what each piece had been crafted for, and the thought of letting them lie around left to their own devices was fear-inspiring.

“We have much to discuss. I’ll contact you. Robin.”

Across, Robin perked up and moved from his handstand into a bridge and then into a stand. Batman waited just long enough for Robin to plunge into a print and jump over the gaps between the rooftops before he too leaped away into the alley on their right.

Jason wasn’t far behind Robin, crossing the space between houses without hesitating. Whatever Robin had demonstrated or told him, its effects were already showing.

“You done already?” Jason asked.

“Mhm. Why are you asking?”

Jason clicked his tongue and shot Desmond an annoyed look. “Nothin’s true. I should ask questions.”

“I taught you that sentence,” Desmond replied and began to walk into the direction of tonight’s second destination. He’d drop Jason back home on the way. Sure, the kid had seen much already, experienced too much for his age, but Desmond wasn’t going to take a ten-year-old to the Foxglove. Not even for information gathering. “And I’m sure it definitely had nothing to do with Robin.”

“Oh, c’ mon, D. It’s Robin. He’s the coolest. So you gotta tell me what you talked about ’cause he was gonna teach me how to do the neat flip.”

“I’m sure you’ll get another chance to learn from him. Batman just asked for some credentials.”

“Credentials? That can’t be everythin’. Come oooon, tell me. Tell me, tell me, please. You know I can do this all night and day.”

Desmond didn’t doubt him, he knew better. Jason’s presence at his side was proof of that.

“I know. You showed me that you had endurance and now you’ll learn patience.”

“What? You can’t be serious! Des- hey!”

Desmond chose that moment to jump from the balcony into the dumpster beneath. The smell of these containers really made him miss the haystacks of his ancestors.

“Patience, Novice,” Desmond repeated.

Batman would tell him soon enough when he wanted to meet up. You couldn’t shake off Batman once you had his attention.

(And true enough, he got an invitation to Wayne manor a week later. He didn’t dwell on the fact that Batman knew where he lived. It was only fair.)

#dc #dc comics #batman #desmond miles #asscreed #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #fanfic #asscreedevents19

[katsuki-creativewriting]

Kōyō Yamamoto - IT1

My current progress so far... I feel optimistic and I think we may finally have a lead. I want to build up our progress and do whatever possible to prevent falling back to square one.

The time is 6:35 pm. I am currently driving at 60km per/hour, no sign of anyone driving past me. It almost seems odd. I usually see the same brand and the same bland colours of cars zooming past me like lightning every minute I drive. And believe me, it doesn't take long.

I am making my way to a workshop on the outskirts of the city. The man I'm about to present myself to is, Kenzou Hibiki. He's age seventy-one, not married, and no children based on his information according to Maro. If I were, to be frank, my mind and body aren't looking forward to visiting a stranger. I'm not sure if I can call him a 'stranger' with all the details we've gathered. Although he doesn't know us, and we've never met properly in person. Maybe? You know what? strangers will do. I haven't been too keen on the idea of visiting him. I should be asking myself why. Well... it is due to his compulsive addiction with... pills.

I forgot to mention that the man lives in his workshop and apparently, fixes and sells clocks and watches? I'm surprised he can make a profit out of by just making CLOCKS all day. Nowadays most people use sci-fi tech watches or just use their phones to look at the time or even search for the weather. While I prepared myself before this trip, I decided to bring my broken watch along to see if he can fix it for me. Perhaps I could get on his good side and hopefully, I can get his consent to question him (let's hope he hasn't taken any of his "sweet, saviour" pills). I could wish myself luck on this venture through a thunderstorm, but I don't know if I CERTAINLY need it.

It's just questioning. It can't be that challenging, right?

- Signing off, Kōyō

• • •

Kōyō could not even describe the emotions of the small droplets of tears falling from the sky. Could he imagine them as petals? No, they seem too harsh; they cannot even describe as a feather! The raindrops fall almost like hailstones knocking at his window in an attempt to enter through the front. The journey was not too far, but it seems longer just by peering into the distance. It felt like a continuous circle going on the same roundabout over once and over twice; it never ends. The same strip of trees, the same patterns on the road. The only time Kōyō could tell he was making progress was when he notices carcasses on the side of the glossy road and plastic bags floating along to the sound of the gushing wind.

He likes the sound and feel of the engine vibrating. For some reason, it puts him at ease like he is trying to escape or take his time away from his office. Stuck to the chair like glue nearly all-day having to tap away on a junk of technology while he hears the reverbed buzzing going off in his brain whenever it is quiet. Whenever the noise occurs, he feels desolate on the inside.

In the boot of the car, he brought along with him a handful of files given to him by the police centred on the drugs and its current effects it has caused on the people who have by far taken them. Since the man has bought a plentiful of these exact pills, he must know something about the one in control or at least the company producing them. Kōyō does not seem intimidating like the police in their act, dressed in their navy, blended blue uniforms. Thus, he would like to see if he can coerce him to disclose information.

• • •

Kōyō reached his destination and stops around the end of a construction site. The shop is that close to a site? he thought. Was it truthfully okay for Hibiki-san to be living near here now? It doesn't seem safe anymore.

Kōyō exhales as he releases the wheel from his grip and opens the door to elevate himself out. "So... This is the workshop?" He ponders to himself. This must be a prank, right? The house is practically ready to collapse! There were the few patches here and there but Kōyō could not even comprehend the idea of someone ESSENTIALLY living here. Kōyō calls Maro again to ensure he was at the right building. A voice echoes at a high yet low pitch on the phone. "Yeah? what's up?"

"Umm... Hinata, are you sure this really is the place? It really looks knackered for someone to live here..."

"I'm certain this is actually the place. Unless you didn't check the address correctly."

Before Kōyō responds, he checks the address once more picking it out of his battered coat pocket. He was in the right area. But is it really...?

"Oh!" Maro bellows from the phone. "I forgot to mention about the construction site next to the house. It's honestly a tad bit appalling to see a man stay in one spot for most of his life. It could be he's close to broke with all the pills he's purchasing, or he's just a clingy dude who makes his living off clocks. Anyways, good luck trying to communicate with him!" And the call ends. It only left Kōyō biting his lips.

This really IS the place. Maro was not lying after all...

Kōyō carries out the heavy files piled up behind the backside of the car. It was too much of a load for him in the end and decides to only take out the ones that are most needed for the questioning. Locking the car behind him, he made his way up the steps and knocks on the door with one exhausted hand struggling to carry the files.

No answer...

This wasn't exactly the plan. I'm not supposed to be here to look like a fool! He argues to himself. With the files in his left and his right free, he can describe himself as a hunched man than a straight man. He knocks on the door once more before kicking the files with his kneecap to thwart them from slipping out of his arms.

No answer again...

This was odd. Was he home? According to Hinata, this guy rarely leaves his house. So, it would seem peculiar to think that NOW of all days and hours he decides to pack up and leave so unexpectedly. Unless... he knew Kōyō was coming to question him. He stands in front of the door, observing everywhere but the door, waiting for the door to open. A few minutes later...

It did...

Kōyō tentatively pushes the door open, to see that no one was there to open the door for him. Has he been standing near the door for almost five minutes and it turns out to be unlocked the entire time? To say the least, he has made far worst moments for himself. He studies the house. The uninviting wallpaper covered up by old wooden clocks hanging on the walls. You can barely see the flowery patterns. The only thing visible was the plain, white ceiling. He has planted way too many samples of his hand-made clocks. The sound of the loud and agitating ticking from the clocks drew Kōyō insane. He wanted to get in and out as soon as he can; he has already heard enough ticking in his brain in his office. A few would have done the trick. The desk was dusty, and the carpet was ragged. It looks like he has not replaced the carpet for a couple of years now. At least it smells pleasant. Smells like the aroma of flowers, not sure what type.

His arm and hands were dying from the files that he carried alongside him. All the blood from his arm to hand left his grip fragile. He plonks the files onto the desk to give his left a break.

"Hibiki- san! Are you there?" Kōyō calls out. But there was no answer; just like with the door. Hibiki-san probably could not hear him from all the ticking in the room. He shouts for the second time, but still... no answer. He rummages around each room he could find, skimming through it with just a quick peek. No person in sight. With no one around the office, there was only one other room left. His bedroom.

I'm really sorry, Sir. But you're not leaving me with any choice...

He gradually but steadily saunters his way up the stairs. It seems so soundless as he was climbing up like the clocks never exist in that one room. And the smell of flowers... was fading away. Replaced with something more... repulsive. What is that horrendous smell? Is it coming from the room? Kōyō clutches his nose as he steps up the last two rigid stairs. This is the only room he can imagine where Hibiki-san could be hiding. He holds onto the door handle and pauses for a moment to think about what he was doing.

Was this an innovative idea? It definitely isn't my best. Guessing if this was the best idea to commit to was not going to reward him with the information he desperately needed. His eyelids tenderly knit together; he opens the door. He unravels his eyes only to feel his heart leap and body tumble back. He automatically grips onto the frame of the door. He just went... pale. There he was, Hibiki-san on his bed with saliva leaking out of his mouth like he recently vomited. His eyes were rolled back. Bloodshot.

Not.

Moving.

A muscle...

He could not get his words out. Just... stutters. From downstairs, he could hear a 'ding', then a 'dong'. Kōyō tries to avert his eyes away to see the time on his phone. It was 7:00 pm sharp. He glances at the man again. He still was not moving. Kōyō crept up to the man and checks his pulse.

No beat...

Oh shit, oh fu- Shit! No, no, no this can't be!

Kōyō calls Maro in a state of panic. This cannot be true. Did the pills really do this to him?!

He could not even think straight, his hands were stuttering as much as HE was stuttering.

Maro picks up. "Hey, Kōyō, what's up? Any luck?"

"H-Hinata, Hinata... I-I, uh..."

"Dude, what's wrong? Why are you stuttering?"

"You know the man I was supposed to question, Kenzou Hibiki?"

"Yeah?"

"Well... you didn't tell me he'd be DEAD!"

"What?! How?"

"I'm not sure. My gut's telling me it's got to do with the pills or... just an overdose."

"I'll call the police to let them handle this unpredicted mess. What are you going to do?"

"I... think I'll go back to the office and rehash this. I'll let the police take care of this."

"Alright, but you NEED to come back to the house to observe more of the area if the police allow you to do such."

"I promise I'll come back and give you the juicy info you yearn when I've been given permission."

"...Perfect." And the called ended with a click.

Kōyō suppresses the urge to vomit as he rushes out of the house, lifting the files in both hands. The files were useless in this situation. A situation he could not match against. He places the files in the front seat instead and clicks in the seatbelt for the pile as well as himself.

Let's get out of here and let the police handle this...

• • •

The pellets of the thunderstorm only grew heavier and more vicious as he makes his way back to his apartment. The gloaming sky made him assume it was nine rather than seven.

Back on the journey.

In his mind, he could not unwind or think about the road. He only thought about what he saw back there. The sight of the man, the state he was in... Decaying flesh and receding hair. The poor guy was lost and confused on his path, and it was obvious from the doorway he was masked with wrinkles. The only question he could ask himself is: Why did he choose that path? The path to escape, to the point of death? or did he really take the "easy" way out?

In fact, why do people choose this, knowing it will one day kill them?

Kōyō heard another car approaching his direction. On the contrary side, he was making progress. But the worrisome side, the car sounds like it was going much faster than him. They were in a sixty per/hour zone. Were they going past the limit?

The car was moving up closer in the dark. Kōyō was waiting for the car to appear through the headlights like something you would expect out of a horror movie. All of a sudden, there they were, driving away. The driving seemed somewhat sluggish, and that was troubling. In just one steer, the driver turns to his right.

Right in front of him!

Kōyō could do nothing. He could not steer to his right; he could not turn backwards. The only action he could take was to hold himself tight like a shield, and that is what he did when the car collided into him and hurtled into the trunk of his car. It shatters the windows and Kōyō's head bashes against the steering wheel.

He fell unconscious once the two cars started bleeping like crazy. His mind grew silent, his sight went blank...

…and the ticking stopped in his brain.

• • •

"If I may ask, who are you? Give me some details about you. And tell me, why did you decide to take this job up?"

"My name is Kōyō Yamamoto. I am twenty-one years old and graduated from Sakagami high school in Tokyo. I chose this job as a private journalist because I wish to take over my Father's job and... avenge someone who seemed to be connected to this case."

I don't plan to stop until I've reached the top of the path of malice.

#koyo yamamoto #koyo #introduction #innocence tomb #reflective fragments #IT1

[namjoonchronicles]

Hi lovey!!! Hope you are alright! Let’s see how you are gonna kill me with Namjoon and 4# ;) kiss kiss and thank you for Drabble night

4. “Do you...well...I mean...I could give you a massage?”

“Have you got your lunchbox?”

“Yup.”

“The transportation card?”

“Right here.”

Nine years old. A little chubby for his age. But always the good son.

“Today goes as planned okay? Since I can’t fetch you at school at noon, you’ll take the 105 bus to the train and stopped at the second last station and take a 22 bus route home, yes?”

“Yes mom,” he groaned, puffing his cheeks as he fix the bag straps on his shoulder over his winter jacket. He looks up, those doe brown eyes notices that you are rubbing the back of your neck. Hasn’t the sore died down when he asked?

“Mom, do you need a massage?” He asked.

And far in your thoughts, there was a deafening whisper of something similar, translucent with time, gritty and full of weight, coming with a dimpled smile impossible to forget entirely, 

“Do you...well...I mean...I could give you a massage?” 

  Hyun’s big doe eyes brought you back in recent time, a skip in your heart when you remembered that you’re far from that memory. But also so close. You retracted your hand from it and forced out a smile while pouring away the rest of the coffee into the sink, “It’s become a habit... plus. It happens often when I’m stressed, you know that, Hyun. Come on, let’s go.”

You snatch your bag and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear, yanking the front door open and halting halfway to exclaim, “The car ke—“

“—I got it,” your son yelps.

Your car halts in front of the school gates and instead of you reminding all the things he needs to do, Hyun is nagging you.

“And don’t put your phone silent, because then I call you don’t hear them and then you come at me saying I don’t tell you stuff. And remember to put the brakes up when you park. And drink lots of water just as much as you drink coffee...” “Hyun...” “And the extra house key is in the dashboard. I put charging cables in your bag so your phone don’t run out of batteries...” “Hyun I—“ “There’s extra migraine pills in the top drawer of your desk, remember to take those vitamins...” “Hyun, I’m the mom here okay... and why,” you looked around the view of the school and saw many elder men coming and entering the school. “I hope things work out with you and grandma today, it be nice to have a grandparent,” Hyun’s sausage finger curls around the door handle and lift it open when you tilt your head to the side and smiled, asking out of curiosity, “How did you know about that?”

Hyun shuts the door and you opened the car window.

“You’re not the only smart one in this house,” he stuck out his tongue at you and you did the same. As you drive away, you remembered that you didn’t ask him about the men that are coming to school. Was there an event you missed out on?

Pulling next to the school’s guard who is controlling the traffic, you inquired him politely.

“Oh! It’s Bring Your Dad To School Day...”

Engine purrs to a stop once it arrives at the parking spot. The car beeps as the car unlocks all its doors but you sat frozen in place. Eyes wide and leaning your head back to the head rest in the car alone. Hyun didn’t tell you. He could have a skipped the day but he didn’t. Your selfishness and fear are what brought this to place.

And it is also what made you and your mother stopped talking to each other. It had been 10 years since March on Hyun’s birthday that you meet your parents. Their conservative upbringing made you stray away from them for fear that they wouldn’t accept you for what you’ve done.

But eventually, they find out that you’ve been raising Hyun alone when he turns 3. And they did hurt you by saying that you’ve raised a fatherless child. Honestly, you didn’t care. You can be called a whore or a rich men’s mistress—other people’s assumptions of you doesn’t matter because you know the whole truth. And today, you hoped, you could be truthful. And honestly, being away from your mom is tiring world to live in.

“Mom...” you called and she snapped her head around, smiling. Sharing a long awaited hug felt wholesome. You don’t feel as alone anymore. There’s a comfort in knowing that you could rely on someone.

“How’s Hyun?” She asked, her wrinkles show when her lips curl into a smile and you hurried to yor bag because you remembered Hyun made her something. It was a paper crane and a heart origami.

Your mom touches it with the tip of her fingers, and then fully into her palms, truly appreciating them. Her eyes twinkles.

“He is very into origamis nowadays... I’m going to take him to pottery class soon, it seems he’ll enjoy them,” you bit your smile feeling proud of your child.

“Has he... ever asked about his,” your mom stammered.

“His dad?” You finished her sentence with a beaming face to feign whatever it is in your heart, “Once. Now that he understand, he doesn’t pester me as much. I felt that he would want to know so I told him the truth.”

Your mother extends her hand and covered yours to give it a little squeeze.

“What really happened to Hyun’s dad?”

You blinked a few times. And memories flooded from where it had been buried for a decade. There was a time where you decide that being alone might not be so bad. And somewhere during that time, someone convinced you that life was meant to be shared.

And his name was Kim Namjoon. And he had doe brown eyes.

He is everything. The most captivating mind you have ever met. He sits at the same spot every lecture. He has a lot of friends and quite a chatterbox. Always in tune with the small army of friends he has. Passion that overflows, tall, charismatic, firm handshake. The kind that everyone wants to be associated with. Charming. Alluring. Magnetizing.

An exhibition that you attended far from town shed all of that image of him. Namjoon likes wood, nature and crabs. Namjoon like sweet things and had a deep thought about skies. Namjoon likes flowers and planets and everything in between. And Namjoon notices you.

“Why?” “I guess it makes you very noticeable. Because you bear a soul and not a mask... when you talk about social understanding and reasoning behind things people find confusing, you speak... faster and louder.” “You find it stupid...” you accused, tipping your head to the side away from him. “W-what, no! I think its amazing and I want to hear more than you let out,” Namjoon stammered almost panicking. “Nobody cares about why and if they do, they probably had given up because the numbers keep rising. Teenagers and drugs are seen as normal but it’s not!”

The edges of Namjoon’s lips twitch into a smile, because if you didn’t know who he was, you wouldn’t remember the topic of the event he spoke on. Namjoon rakes on numbers of drug addicts that are in their teenage years and penalties that could be propose to reduce the numbers. His deductions were achievable—in theory but in execution? You doubted it.

“You disagree about the penalties?” “Wrong. I was sceptical of it,” you start to walk and he followed, “All these years, the government proposes using money to taunt youngsters not to take drugs, but has it work? Imprisonment, fines, getting kicked out of schools doesn’t help them—it worsens them. Should I continue or are you already bored?”

Namjoon’s phone rang. He took one perplexed look and replied a message before he answers you. And while you explain, another call arrives. And another. And another.

Until finally,

“I think the discussion should stop here. You’re obviously very busy and I obviously have overstayed the exhibition...” you took a look at your watch and the exhibition worker starts closing down. Has it really been that long? Where did the time go?

“Are you,” he raises his voice as the distance between you two increases, “Are you free tomorrow? I’d really love to continue this. In day light where its appropriate.”

“No,” you shake your head, “Tomorrow we’ll be back in college where you are THE Kim Namjoon and I’m the girl at the far corner judging everyone with my thick full rimmed glasses, no I’m not free.” Your heels swung around, giving him your back and you waved.

But Namjoon is persistent. He passed notes. Asking you for your number and you gave him a pizza place hotline. You thought he will eventually gave up. But no. He actually ordered the pizza at noon the next day and have it personally delivered to you with a huge marker asking for your number yet again. You ate the pizza but passed him a middle finger up across the room when he was smiling in triumph thinking he had won this game. He looks at you fondly while you glare at him across the hall.

“I like a challenge,” he grins at the view of your back.

After that, he starts showing up everywhere. Your lectures, the libraries, the cafe you frequent in, even your lunch spot—literally everywhere. Notes left on your car, in your books, in your bags and one time in your shoes. He really is trying to annoy you like this.

He was speaking to his friends, making big gestures with his hands when you tapped his shoulder and he spun around. You expected him to give you a smug smile but he looks a little frightened, perhaps a little shy. His ears turned red.

You didn’t let that stop you. You slammed a yellow post-it note on his grey shirt right above his heart and he blinked at you as you walked away. His friends are teasing him but all he could hear is his own heartbeat in his ears.

He would text you about his day and make appointments that he calls engagement and at first it was for educational purposes; watching Ice Age reruns for environmental concerns, rare art exhibitions across the city for appreciation towards classic arts, poetry reading to study social engagements—and then the ‘appointments’ turn to, ‘going there because you’ve never been’ trips.

Comic-con. Comic book stores. Watching his animes. Accompanying him to find his KAWS collection. Forest parks. Nursery. Botany farms. Scuba diving. Snorkelling even when he couldn’t swim. Teaching him how to swim. Going to pottery class. Cooking class where he almost burns the hall. Accompanying him to his driving lessons which he failed every time but passes the theory test. Cheering him up because he failed driving lessons. Cheering him up because he sulked about you not telling him you had a medical check-up. Going for icecream trips in winter. Going for bike rides in Autumn. Taking pictures of him by the blossoming Sakura trees in Spring. Taking him to the beach in Summer.

“We’re just friends,” It will break him and you knew. But you didn’t care. When he wakes up and this will all be a dream.

But he woke up and gave you a call. Many calls. Until finally you answered.

“Hey,” he sounded so soft, “Where you went, I woke up and you weren’t here, I called you so many times...”

“We just started a life as a working adult, and everything that happened are just stress...” your pace begins to hasten.

“What are you talking about... it’s not just one time,” Namjoon dug his hand into one pocket, looking out the window of his office.

“It happens between two people and it’s nothing alright.I don’t want you to get any ideas if our relationships should be more than this,” you clenched your eyes shut and stopped in your tracks, “Don’t look for me. Don’t call me ever again.”

End call.

Your mother takes the brim of the cup to her lips.

“And when I got the positive pregnancy test finally, I got rid of him. I changed my number, my address, moved cities with my job and gave birth to Hyun,” you fiddled with your fingers.

“Why did you do that?”

“I wanted a baby that is mine. And mine alone. And I know I wanted his and no one else. I got what I wanted. I can offer him nothing more...I’m undependable. I don’t believe in marriage and this is the closest thing I get to have children of my own. I always wanted to be a mom, not a wife,” you explained.

“Does he know he has a kid?”

You shook your head. Eventhough deep in your heart you knew that he must have found out somehow or felt that he was a father. But what can he do? Hyun is yours and yours alone. Or so you’d like to believe.

“Hyun? It’s your turn...” Hyun looks outside and smiled brightly. Marching into the room with a three-piece suit, looking dashing as ever, was Kim Namjoon.

“Hello, and good morning, I’m Kim Namjoon and I’m Hyun’s dad.”

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hi! i recognise your username! thank you for always supporting me! it’s a slight long drabble, because I had a story  like this in my head for so long... I hope you like it!

#drabble_games #drabble_games2:parenting #namjoon #bts