#Heart Touching Loss Your Sister Quotes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lowellstephens · 1 year

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It is 9:35 pm February 26, 2023. I am at the Randles/Wards Island (permanent) shelter.

Halalujah! Praise The Lord! God is good! (All the time). Thank you Jesus!

Today in the lunchroom we had church. The name of the church is Disciple Christian Church. And they did their thing! I went back in my room and I told everyone in my section “Yo I just came back from church. It was lit!” And it was!

“Lit” is an expression that the young folks (and a few old folks) say to express that the event (normally a party or a club) was exciting and a good place to be. And it was.

There is a certain type of kindred spirit (The Holy Spirit) which comes over you when you hear a true Man of God or a Woman of God. The woman was quiet and very humble when I first met. She remained humble and down to earth throughout the entire service. But “quiet” she was NOT. She was just about as quiet as a firecracker, BEFORE YOU LIGHT IT OR IGNITE IT.

I came into the lunch room and they kinda had the musician’s stand for a podium and the microphone 🎤 was in a beautiful mic stand that twisted. Very modern and different. I talked to them briefly and then the ‘magic’ happened. Nothing weird BUT magic did happen nonetheless.

It started with a prayer. The woman whose name I later found out is Arlene. Actually her complete name is Elder Arlene. The prayer was powerful. And blessed. And powerful. It bought me to tears (slightly).

I had already commented and complimented her on Her jewelry which was tastefully pleasantly adorned which was the perfect completion to her red/black outfit. I felt we were in for a royal treat. I was right.

It started with the gentleman talking about our identity with God. It was enlightening and truthful and insightful. I was blessed. And I was thinking that he was speaking from his heart ♥️ and I appreciated the service. But. There did not seam like anything was particularly missing. But. He mentioned the benifits of being an heir with Christ and that although we might think that we know ourselves and we want to do “our thing” we should identify with God because he knows us better. I appreciated the timely reminder of our ‘true’ identity in Christ. Scriptures were quoted and read and all and all, he did his thing. But. I guess the best way to express my feelings were that I appreciated the service so far. But.

Why so many “buts”. Well because they saved the best part for last. The “soul stirring” completion to the main course. The woman. The Woman of God. THAT is the big ‘but’.

Sister Elder Arlene got up there was a slight wind and a certain spirit in the room from the first word to the the last. Mesmerizing. That the only word that I can decribe what happened after that. I try to describe it in words that my Tumblr Family would attempt to understand.

Elder Arlene got up and she respectfully said that she was the gentleman’s wife and mother of seven, the oldest being 47. Then; the magic happened. Nothing crazy, no “walk on water miracles”. BUT.

The inner soul was stirred. Unfortunately, for many, if you never have never heard a Woman Of God speak, preach or even pray, you are at a loss. She (Elder Arlene) started like a gentle lamb and ended like a roaring lion. But somehow a compassionate, empathetic and honest lion. Imagine a lion being your friend. That is the only way that I can describe the remaining half of the service. It’s like she ( or God using her) went right into my soul as only God can. It’s like it was her, but it was God, but it was her speaking the words, but God giving her the words to say.

And it penetrated a part of my heart that no can, except God. But it was her, but it was God, but it was her, but it was God. I guess that, that is why the only way to describe her and the experience is being touched by the Woman Of God. I heard her, but I felt God. My entire life passed me by in seconds. The good, the bad and the ugly. I was bought to tears again, this almost boo boo tears. I even said it “I’m in a men’s shelter crying”. But I didn’t care.

When God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit are in the building, nothing else matters. You are part of a big family. You (I) always was. Time and space just stopped and I was one with God. She mentioned the protocol son, she mentioned that her husband used to be strung out on drugs, but, (quote, unquote) “Look at him now, only God can do that” She mentioned that she had to raise 7 children and “only God can do that”.

I love the way that she didn’t JUST say that her husband took a little drugs but she said that her husband was “VERY STRUNG OUT ON HEAVY DRUGS.” Somehow appreciated her selective using the words VERY, AND HEAVY. Excellent speaker. Empathetic and plainly truthful.

I can not describe the rest. But it was a life changing experience. She mentioned that faith is not easy. One must be strong.

Bravo Elder Arlene. Bravo.

What a mighty God we serve!

Bravo

Then a song with the other sister that accompanied them. Then prayer. And I went to seek prayer. I felt God! And the rest is history and a new beginning.

Thank you Jesus!

Lowell

I laughed, I cried, I praised, I rejoiced.

Listening to (God using) Elder Arlene should definitely on YOUR bucket list.

Thank God for the whole service but thank God for sending Sister Arlene.

Lowell.

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incorrect-addams-family · 2 years

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Heart Touching Loss Your Sister Quotes

Throughout your life, your sister is usually there at some stage in your right instances and awful times, however when we loss our loving sister, then we’ve doubt about the that means of existence and its value.

It’s raining my soul, it’s raining, but it’s raining dead eyes. ~ Guillaume Apollinaire

If you don’t have an older or younger sister, you really missing out! Those are bonds & love that could never be replaced.

“I love you every day. And now I will miss you every day.” ~ Mitch Albom

Our hearts still ache in sadness, and secret tears still flow, what it meant to lose you. no one will ever know. ~ Anonymous

You Always Know When I M Sad, Just Missing My Sister Thats All. ~ Author Unknown

#Heart Touching Loss Your Sister Quotes

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babblydrabbly · 3 years

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Trust Me Pt. 1 - (Rick Flag x Reader); (Harley Quinn x Reader (Friendship))

Pairing(s): (Rick Flag x Reader); (Harley Quinn x Reader (Friendship)

Characters: Harley Quinn, Rick Flag, Digger Harkness, mentions of Amanda Waller

Rating: General

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warning(s): Language, blood/violence, car accident.

Summary: Imagine you’re occasionally sent on Task Force X missions to back up Flag, but he knows Waller really just sends you to report back any dirt you can find on Rick. You’re a rat (No offense to Sebastian). He keeps you at arms length most of the time, and resents any attempts to be a part of the ‘team’, despite his big speech about treating each other like brothers and sisters. Still, you bond over all the literally suicidal missions, and really do watch each others’ back during the chaos. Rick Flag is torn between you being one of Waller’s spies and how much he cares about you. Part 1/?

---

You were uncomfortable with the assignment to begin with. You’d heard about what happened at Midway before you even transferred to Belle Reve, so when Waller said you’d be assigned to the next few Task Force X missions, you immediately knew why. Amanda Waller did not trust Rick Flag.

Without needing to say it, you were going to report back any and all chatter you considered insubordination between the members of the ‘suicide squad’. You were a rat. And Flag knew it right away. You were adequate in the field, but nothing spectacular; Your real job was working in the comms room during their missions. When the plane touched down on your first tag-a-long, Flag did little to hide the resentment he felt for you.

That was fine. You didn't need to be friends. He kept you at arms length, only speaking to you directly with orders or updates. You rarely spoke at all while out with the team.

That was, until Harley Quinn was reinstated a few missions into your assignment. During the take down of a moving convoy and extraction of an important meta-human asset, Flag looked happy to tell you you’d be driving a hundred miles out into the desert beside the bubbly criminal. He didn’t even give you the dignity of being in charge of driving.

You sat in the passenger seat of the hummer, as Harley blasted the radio and sang without any shame at all. You had a feeling Flag could see your silhouettes from his own vehicle one car back where he was driving with Harkness. You had literal hours to go before your four vehicle team (plus helicopter) even reached the convoy, and Harley’s energy was relentless.

“So, where ya from, hun?” “You got a cute outfit- I’m more prone to a pop of color myself.” “Hey, you ever try peanut butter on a cheeseburger? Hear me out-”

“—Teams report.” Flag’s voice came in through your earpiece after an hour or so. Were you imagining it, or did he seem amused? The members ahead of you check in before you grit your teeth and give a curt, “Fine. Over.”

You gasped as Harley let go of the wheel to stick her body out of the open window, her blonde pigtails whipping around. She waved enthusiastically back at Flag, and you could see in the rearview as he casually waved back from his sunroof behind you. You cursed and snatched the wheel as the hummer swerved, shouting for Harley to get her ass back in the damn car!

You heard a few chuckles and quips over the comms that made your cheeks burn, and you made a note to definitely mark this moment down in your stupid report. Fucking Flag. It wasn’t like you volunteered to be Waller’s little snitch. But you couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. He was getting bolder. It had been less than a year, and what was once just cold shoulders and dismissals between the two of you was slowly turning into harmless jabs like this one. You even found yourself leaving things out of your reports on occasion. What use was mentioning it if it wasn’t relevant to the task force? Lying by omission for a bunch of murderers and losers— Who were you turning into.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sudden absence of noise— Harley had stopped singing along, instead choosing to bob in her seat to the beat. She glanced at you with a wide grin. Then again. And again.

“Eyes on the road, Quinn.” You practically begged at this point. You pressed your body into your seat anxiously. The dust cloud from the incoming convoy was beginning to blow past your window. Flag’s voice crackled through the comms again to get ready.

“You’re one uptight broad, y’know that?” She said cheerfully. You didn’t know if you were meant to take offense or not. Then, “I like it! Got a real Restin’ Bitch Face.”

“Thank...you?”

“Don’t get me wrong— When a gal’s got on a good RBF, it’s in the name. You’re a bitch. But when a broody guy like Flag’s got one he’s a ‘serious leader’ and a ‘professional’ and a ‘dreamy hunk’.” Harley went on, taking her hands off the wheel to demonstrate her air quotes literally. You gripped your seatbelt in fear as the hummer began swerving again.

“Quinn...”

“Everyone’s always calling me a psycho bitch when I get in the zone, y’know. But then I’m just a crazy bitch when I’m tryin’a keep it fun—!”

“HARLEY!”

Your heart leapt in your throat. As Harley let the vehicle veer back and forth, your attention was suddenly taken by the flash of fire and an explosion just yards ahead of you. The hummer with two other squad members leading the line had been hit with a rocket launcher, sending their vehicle into the air in a burst of flame— and because Harley was driving like a maniac, the explosion had missed your own hummer. Harley and Flag broke the line in a single moment, dodging the car that was now overturned and engulfed in fire.

Hell broke loose then, as it always did.

You remember Harley shouting at you to take the wheel before climbing up to the mounted gun on the roof. Chatter erupted on the comms as Waller’s team directed the helicopter above and the rest of you still converged on the target. The plan was to never stop, to keep driving and extract the asset while all teams kept up with the convoy. You remember seeing a car pull up beside Flag in your side mirror, a rifle pointing right at him through all the dust and cross fire.

But the beauty of Task Force X was how laughably terrible these guys were at not following the plan. You catch a flash of red and blue as Harley leapt onto the enemy’s truck, abandoning her post on the hummer to go get the asset herself. Waller’s orders were meaningless in moments like this, and she knew it. They would either accomplish the mission their way, or they were dead.

That’s what the suicide squad did— was that really you? You looked in your rearview again in time to catch Harkness collapse onto the hood of Flag’s vehicle, a splotch of red visible on his chest even from where you were. You heard Waller’s voice in your head already dismissing Boomer’s loss by the end of all this.

But you also heard Rick, his voice concerned but steady in your ear as he ordered Harkness to hang on while he attempted to lose the car still beside them.

You sucked in a breath, and with a sudden jerk of the wheel, you lined yourself up with the enemy car behind you— And slammed on the breaks.

---

You had to come back to Belle Reve on a separate jet with Harkness, who also needed medical care before being sent back. Harley, despite her protests to see that you were both okay, was returned to her cell without so much as a ‘good job’ from Waller. Flag locked the caged door behind her with a murmur that he’d send word about Boomer soon.

You landed in Louisiana with a fractured arm and ten stitches along your right temple. They had to reset your shoulder too. The bruising on the right side of your face made you look worse than you felt, but you still had to keep your face still from pulling the stitches. As you shuffled down the exit stairs, dragging your duffle behind you, you were startled when you looked up to see Rick Flag on the tarmac approaching you quickly.

His brow furrowed, he immediately greeted you with a gruff, “Hey.”

“Hey—” You said back, feeling your bag being taken from you. He peels it from your fingers, your wrists brushing. No ‘[L/N]’, no curt nod. You watched as Flag slung the duffle over his broad shoulder and gestured back to the SUV he’d driven over to receive you from the Belle Reve air field without a word. When you approach your door, you stare as Flag uncharacteristically holds it open for you, then promptly shuts it, your bag placed down in the back seat.

The drive back to the main compound was usually brief, but today it felt like an eternity. You glanced over as Flag glared at the road ahead, and you remembered what Harley said about his... What did she call it? RBF? Dreamy bitch face?

Silence.

“Am I fired?” You finally said, your voice piercing the dead quiet of the car.

Flag blinked, looking between you and the road as if pulled from his own thoughts. “No, what?”

“Am I fired?” You repeated. Then grumbled, “Feels like you’re rushing me to an exit interview.”

“You're not fired.” He replied in his drawl, still distracted. “And I’m tryin’a hustle you to your debrief with Waller so you can get home and rest.”

He put the car in park, the silence falling over you again deafening now that the engine was off. You sneak another glance over at him to see him staring ahead, his large hands still gripping the wheel tightly.

“Are... You okay, Flag?”

“Are you okay?” He suddenly snapped. He released the wheel, turning his chest to face you in his seat. You reeled a little, confused at the sudden anger that seemed to release like a burst dam.

“Stitches, a broken arm. You got lucky, [L/N]. What the hell were you thinking?” He continued, voice raising. And it was like muscle memory, the way your uncertainty vanished, your body turning in your own seat to square up to Rick Flag, Colonel pain in the ass. He was chastising you now? After you just saved his fucking life?

You said as much, your face shutting down, on the defense. Typical Rick Flag. The thought was written on your face, your contempt like a flashing billboard.

Flag’s lips parted, a sharp intake of breath telling you he was about to fire back— because that’s what the two of you did— but instead he surprised you by promptly clamping the sharp line of his jaw shut. That silence fell like a wall between the two of you once more, and Rick turned to face forward, his gaze leaving you and taking all the fire with it. You watch his Adam’s apple bob minutely, something unreadable washing over his features before he mutters,

“Waller’s waiting for you in comms. Better hustle.”

#rick flag x reader #rick flag #harley quinn #tss 2021 #mywords*#reader is a genius. very smort.

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henryhas2moms · 2 years

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“that’s your problem regina, you’re always looking for someone else to blame”

cw abuse

regina blames snow for daniel’s death (and at least partially for everything that happened after). snow did betray regina’s trust but really, cora and leopold are infinitely more culpable and ill intended. regina goes through something similar, blaming emma when she brings marian back from the past, and again with zelena when hades kills robin. regina has a consistent problem of not knowing who to blame because of fucking course she does— she’s been abused multiple ways by multiple people her whole life and all of her abusers have told her it’s her fault! her mother says “i wouldn’t have to use magic on you if you were an obedient daughter” the king says “i wouldn’t have to lock you in your room if you didn’t write about your feelings for other men in your diary” (for one thing) rumplestiltskin says “you wouldn’t have a problem crushing hearts if you were a good student— oh you just crushed a heart? you monster!” so she’s unable to blame the perpetrator bc to her they’re invulnerable, (remember regina didn’t grow up in a world where the heroes defeat the villains, she lived in a world where villains crush heroes under their heel, at least until she became the villain herself, and how deliciously ironic is that?) she’s desperately trying to find someone to blame, someone who screwed up, other than herself, so she looks next to her and sees someone she trusted not to hurt her, who betrayed her, no matter how little they intended to, because really, maybe, she blames herself for trusting at all. after all, as heart breaking as it is, when regina reconciles with snow in season three, the person she blames for daniel’s death is herself.

she tells robin “my first love, daniel, was killed because of me. because he loved me.” which is a terrible thing for regina to believe about herself, moreso because of all people who died because “[regina] loved them” (daniel, henry sr, cora, robin) regina had the LEAST responsibility for daniel’s death. of these, i (and most viewers, i would hope) would argue she only bears responsibility for henry sr’s death. but this quote from “snow drifts” leaves us to wonder what regina believes/feels about the rest. textually, regina blames snow for “tricking [her] into killing [her] own mother” (regina’s words) which further complicates things because regina knows it was snow’s (and rumple’s— we won’t let him off the hook) manipulations that killed cora, but it’s crueler than that because for the trick to work she needed to trust snow, at least for a moment, and then snow gets metaphorical blood on regina’s hands when she lets regina put cora’s poisoned heart back in her chest. robin’s death at hades hand is even more complicated because regina seems to accept it as robin’s choice, to take the blow meant for regina “love is sacrifice” and how awful is it that after all this growth regina, who taught snow that “true love is magic… it creates happiness” associates love with pain and loss. then zelena saves regina and kills hades and it’s very touching. but then in season six regina blames zelena for robin’s death because zelena’s trust in hades allowed him to kill robin, which is a few steps removed from real culpability, but one step further, regina trusted zelena’s trust in hades (it’s getting convoluted, i know, but that’s how they frame it in “sisters”), and that broken trust is what splinters and hurts again. and honestly, it would take another paragraph about the split queen arc and then maybe another looping back to the author arc to reallllly explore this to the fullest. but what a cruel and terrible thing, for a character who’s been loved so badly, who’s been loved in ways that hurt her, for so much of her life, for a character with the most resilient heart, who loves unconditionally and unselfishly she would die for those she loves, who loves deeply enough to give her son true love’s kiss without her heart, for this character to believe her love gets people killed? that’s horrible.

#it’s so frustrating that they made this one of her main flaws— something that damages her relationships— something that turns a lot of the #audience against her— and then neglected to examine why this is an issue regina would have or let her work through it #but perhaps it’s best left to subtext and acting and interpretation because when the show does want to explore themes there’s a big #obnoxious show don’t tell problem #and i have a whoooooole other. mess of thoughts and feeling about The Robin Problem that involve— as i alluded to— split queen and the autho #and blame and love etc. but this is long and convoluted enough!!!#regina mills #text #abuse tw #abuse cw #i am not a licensed therapist this is a pretty surface level reading so if i fucked up i am sorry #i guess we’re in regina analysis hours which issss pretty much always the case but here #the title is from when emma was yelling at regina in the price which i didn’t even discuss #and i might change it bc emma is being very mean (not just for that line but for uhm. other issues. in that scene.)#regina angst warning #i feel less confident on the second half but i had some feelings to get out and i can’t get out my feelings without examining the text about #them aparently #i didn’t talk about the henry sr thing bc regina is responsible but the circumstances were really fucking terrible #and their reunion was soooooooo #i didn’t really get into emmas little back to the future romp bc that has more to do with The Robin Problem and the #equally egregious Marian Problem #the blame game

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dontbipanicjonsa · 3 years

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A confusing clusterfuck of thoughts re: Jonsa

Or: why the fuck are Jon and Sansa so compatible if they're not canon, huh?

He saw the Wall shining like blue crystal, and his bastard brother Jon sleeping alone in a cold bed, his skin growing pale and hard as the memory of all warmth fled from him. - Bran III AGOT

So....Jon is going to lose memory of all warmth? I'm going to separate the changes brought about in post-resurrection!Jon here as changes caused by death and changes caused by Ghost. This post is only speculating about the changes caused by death i.e. loss of memory of all warmth.

More foreshadowing for that-

Chunks of coal burned in iron braziers at either end of the long room, but Jon found himself shivering. The chill was always with him here. In a few years he would forget what it felt like to be warm. - Jon III AGOT

"It was. The fort is in a sorry state, admittedly. You will restore it as best you can..." ... You'll sleep on stone, too exhausted to complain or plot, and soon you'll forget what it was like to be warm, but you might remember what it was to be a man. - Jon II ADWD

So, I did a word search for warm and memory and I found some interesting stuff. Read under the cut.

1. Home

Jon- warmth and memory of home

The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north. - Jon II AGOT (thinking about Arya)

The weariness came on him suddenly... So cold, he thought, remembering the warm halls of Winterfell, where the hot waters ran through the walls like blood through a man's body. There was scant warmth to be found in Castle Black... - Jon III AGOT

...Iron Emmett was still urging on his charges in the yard. The song of steel on steel woke a hunger in Jon. It reminded him of warmer, simpler days, when he had been a boy at Winterfell matching blades with Robb under the watchful eye of Ser Rodrik Cassel. Ser Rodrik too had fallen, slain by Theon Turncloak... All my memories are poisoned. - Jon VI ADWD

The warmth took some of the ache from his muscles and made him think of Winterfell's muddy pools, steaming and bubbling in the godswood. Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it.-Jon XII ASOS

So, these are the memories of warmth he'll lose? This warmth, that he associates with Winterfell (and the Starks), is the first memory of warmth Jon has.

Dany- memory of home

The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind... and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. She threw open the door.

"… the dragon …" - Daenerys IX AGOT

Home? The word made her feel sad. Ser Jorah had his Bear Island, but what was home to her? A few tales, names recited as solemnly as the words of a prayer, the fading memory of a red door … was Vaes Dothrak to be her home forever? - Daenerys VI AGOT

..."What shall we talk of?"

"Home," said Dany. "Naath. Butterflies and brothers. Tell me of the things that make you happy, the things that make you giggle, all your sweetest memories. Remind me that there is still good in the world."

Missandei did her best. She was still talking when Dany finally fell to sleep, to dream queer, half-formed dreams of smoke and fire. - Daenerys VIII ADWD

Dany's idea of 'home' changes over the course of the books. In the beginning she uses home for Illyrio's house, or the house with the red door. She very clearly doesn't think of Westeros as her home. After Viserys's death however, there's a sudden shift. Now, Westeros is her long lost home that she must return to someday. It's jarring. Interestingly enough, she pretty clearly rejects the idea of Dothraki khalasars as home, and the only time she calls Meereen home is in her last chapter of ADWD where she's trying to convince herself to return there. But we know that she ultimately rejects that too, in the same chapter.

Sansa- memory of home

Snow was falling on the Eyrie.

Outside the flakes drifted down as soft and silent as memory. Was this what woke me? Already the snowfall lay thick... The sight took Sansa back to cold nights long ago, in the long summer of her childhood. - Sansa VII ASOS

Last of all came the Royces, Lord Nestor and Bronze Yohn... Though his hair was grey and his face lined, Lord Yohn still looked as though he could break most younger men like twigs in those huge gnarled hands. His seamed and solemn face brought back all of Sansa's memories of his time at Winterfell. - Alayne I AFFC

She missed Septa Mordane, and even more Jeyne Poole, her truest friend... She tried not to think of them too often, yet sometimes the memories came unbidden, and then it was hard to hold back the tears. Once in a while, Sansa even missed her sister. By now Arya was safe back in Winterfell... - Sansa II ACOK

Arya coz why not

"Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths.… Sansa is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you …" - Arya II AGOT

Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister," she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. - Arya II AFFC

Again, all this (and much more) is stuff that reminds Sansa (and Arya) of home. This is, presumably, shit that Jon is gonna forget. Or maybe he'll retain the memories and only lose the emotions (warmth) associated with it?

2. Suitors or romantic/sexual partners (+Ben Plumm)

Jon

Many a night he lay with Ygritte warm beside him,... - Jon V ASOS

So, Ygritte becomes his second memory of warmth.

When he turned he saw Ygritte.

...cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon's heart leapt into his mouth. "Ygritte," he said.

"Lord Snow." The voice was Melisandre's.

Surprise made him recoil from her. "Lady Melisandre." He took a step backwards. "I mistook you for someone else." At night all robes are grey. - Jon VI ADWD

AT NIGHT ALL ROBES ARE GREY...yea I know, this is a well established connection between the Girl in Grey and Ygritte. Since Jon associates Ygritte with warmth so strongly, I think it's safe to assume that the Girl in Grey might play a role in warming him too (hehe).

… one hears queer talk of dragons."

"Would that we had one here. A dragon might warm things up a bit."

"My lord jests. You will forgive me if I do not laugh. We Braavosi are descended from those who fled Valyria and the wroth of its dragonlords. We do not jape of dragons." - Jon IX ADWD

Yikes.

Dany

"If my queen commands," he (Jorah) said, curt and cold.

Dany was warm enough for both of them. "She does," she said. "She commands...

When he was gone, Dany threw herself down on her pillows beside her dragons. She had not meant to be so sharp with Ser Jorah, but his endless suspicion had finally woken her dragon. - Daenerys IV ASOS

So, here the warmth is because of anger (woken the dragon).

Dany could feel the warmth of his fingers. He was warm in Qarth as well, she recalled, until the day he had no more use for me. She rose to her feet. "Come," she said, and Xaro followed her through the pillars... - Daenerys III ADWD

She remembered Ben's face the last time she had seen it. It was a warm face, a face I trusted... Even the dragons had been fond of old Brown Ben, who liked to boast that he had a drop of dragon blood himself. Three treasons will you know. Once for gold and once for blood and once for love. Was Plumm the third treason, or the second? And what did that make Ser Jorah, her gruff old bear? Would she never have a friend that she could trust?- Daenerys VI ADWD

This is twice that Dany associates warmth with people who use/betray her.

"You're hurt," she gasped.

"This?" Daario touched his temple. "A crossbowman tried to put a quarrel through my eye, but I outrode it. I was hurrying home to my queen, to bask in the warmth of her smile." He shook his sleeve, spattering red droplets. - Daenerys VI ADWD

Dawn always came too soon.

...If only she had the power, she would have made their nights go on forever, but the best that she could do was stay awake to try and savor every last sweet moment before daybreak turned them into no more than fading memories....

Dany wrapped her arms around her captain and pressed herself against his back. She drank in the scent of him, savoring the warmth of his flesh, the feel of his skin against her own. Remember, she told herself. Remember how he felt. - Daenerys VII ADWD

Ok, I forgot how smitten Dany was with Daario. It would be cute if Daario wasn't so horrifying. Girl has some seriously questionable taste.

Interestingly, the phrase 'fading memory' is used four times in the text (as far as I can find) and three of those times are in Daenerys's POV. One is in the above quote, where she's commanding herself to remember her time with Daario before her marriage to Hizdahr, and the other time is while thinking about the red door. Both these are memories that are important to her, that connect her to the hopeful/little/not-dark girl she once was.

Sansa

Gently, he spoke of Braavos, and met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he had walked once in the north. - Tyrion VIII ASOS

"I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her." - Sansa VII ASOS

"Alayne." Her aunt's singer stood over her. "Sweet Alayne. I am Marillion. I saw you come in from the rain. The night is chill and wet. Let me warm you." - Sansa VI ASOS

You must be very cold. Let me warm you, Sansa. Take off those gloves, give me your hands." - Sansa VII ASOS

Yea no. Sansa has not had a good experience with people offering to warm her (unfreeze her? melt her?)

Looks like in TWOW there's going to be two people in desperate need of some warming.

It's pretty neat actually. Jon associates memories of warmth with two things primarily: Winterfell/the Starks, and Ygritte. Sansa is both a Stark, and a much (much) improved Ygritte.

Sansa's iciness-wall-armour is a form of protection that she employs against predatory men. The only person who can melt her frozen heart...is someone who is not predatory. Someone who cares for her. Jon.

It fits perfectly. They fit perfectly.

#actually jonsa #jonsa #jonsa meta #book jonsa

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holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

Play Pretend

Title: Play Pretend

Summary: Sam betrays you in more than one way. Years later you meet again. Can he win you over again or will you never forgive him for breaking your heart?

Squares filled for: @spnquotebingo

Quote: ("I wake up in the morning and I feel like I'm missing something. I know that there's something not right, and it takes me a while to remember what it is... then I remember. My best friend is gone. My only friend. It was silly of me to rely so much on one person." - Love, Rosie)

Word Count:

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader, implied Sam x Ruby

Characters: Dean Winchester

Rating: Mature

Warnings: angst, language, cheating, sadness, break-up, mentions of blood junkie Sam, hurt & comfort, fluff, meeting again, second chances???

A/N: Set in Season 4/later on Season 10

Divider by @firefly-graphics

SPN Quote Bingo masterlist

The night before your world exploded…

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean pokes his head into your room, or rather the room you share with your boyfriend of four years, Sam. The love of your life. “Sammy is still at the bar and tries to find out if there is anything the victims got in common.”

“Dean, I love you like a brother,” you whisper, not even lifting your head to meet his eyes in the dim light of your bedroom, “but please stop lying for Sam.”

“I did not lie, Y/N,” mumbling the words Dean steps closer into the room, eyes glued to the wrapped gift on the nightstand. “A gift?”

“He forgot our anniversary, Dean. I know he's with her, that demonic bitch again. I can see her red lipstick on his shirt and smell her cheap perfume and the sulfur. I tried to make Sam see she’s not what he wants or needs but-“

Your voice cracks and you wipe your eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” Dean sits on the bed next to you, eyes glued to the gift on the nightstand. “Sammy, he changed since I’m back, or maybe it was while I was gone.”

“The moment you were gone he stopped being my Sam and became a shadow of the man I fell in love with. I let him stray, even leave me for weeks as he lost you but now – you are back, and he still leaves me.”

“Maybe you should talk to Sam, Y/N,” you turn around, shaking your head lightly. “What do you want to do?” Dean asks, already knowing the answer. “I will miss you, Y/N. You’re the annoying little sister I never had.”

“I will miss you too, Dean,” choking out a sob you close your eyes. “You know that you can always call me. Just give me some time to calm.”

Just like any other night for months you lie on the edge of the bed, ignoring Sam sneaks into your shared bedroom.

You can smell her on him, and if the moonless night would offer more than dim light you could see the lipstick on his neck and the scratch-marks on his back.

Sam hides his infidelity poorly lately. Hickeys. Lipstick. Her scent on him. He seems to want to rub it in your face that he’s no longer interested in you.

His hands, the ones which once felt so warm are cold when he touches you now. Not sexually, of course. Sam didn’t even look at you for months. Not that you wanted him to touch you.

You pretend you are asleep when Sam settles on the bed next to you. He sighs, mumbling your name when his eyes land on the gift on his nightstand.

“I forgot our anniversary, babe,” he whispers, rolling to his side to look at the back of your head. You can feel his hand gently run over your arm, but you don’t move, not wanting to break things up with him tonight. “Gonna make it up to you after we killed Lilith.”

Tonight, you will let your hatred burn all the love your felt for him out of your heart. Tonight, you will play pretend and ignore the pieces of your heart on the floor when he kisses your neck softly.

Tomorrow you will get back up and leave the love of your life for good.

The next night you are gone. You don’t lie in a cold bed, waiting for the love of your life to pretend he still loves you. And you don’t pretend to not see the love in his eyes is long gone…

“Gone?” looking around your shared bedroom Sam balls his hands into fists. “How can Y/N be gone? She was with you the whole time.”

“You mean the time you spend with your favorite demon, the one you love to fuck?” Dean spats, stepping toward the nightstand. “She even bought you a gift even though she knew you fuck that corpse. I think I’ll take a few days off.”

“Do you want to leave me too? Just like the useless girl I dragged around for years?” Sam spats.

“Sammy, I love you but right now, I don’t recognize my brother anymore. No wonder Y/N left and didn’t look back…”

Around six years later, St. Cloud, Minnesota

“I’m telling you, Sammy,” Dean smirks, jerking his head toward the bags with food on the table at their shared motel room, “this is the best burger in town. The owner makes the pickles, Sam. You should learn to enjoy the little things.”

Sam makes a face, not in the mood to talk about food with his brother. “If you say so,” he shrugs, glancing at his phone. “You know, we could just sit this one case out.”

“I’m fine,” Dean grumbles, thumb running over the mark on his arm. “It’s calmer today. Just let me enjoy my food, drink some beer and forget about anything else.”

“Rowena said she’s close to finding a spell to break the bond. Charlie and Castiel help her stay focused on helping you and not rule the world,” laughing Dean looks at his brother, shaking his head.

“You need to get laid, Sammy. Find a girl and stop worrying about me.”

“I’m not in the mood,” Sam tuts, looking at Dean’s greasy food. “I just-“

“I know, I know,” rolling his eyes the elder brother takes a large bite of his burger. “You can’t focus on a sweet girl while your brother runs around with the Mark of Cain.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s bullshit, Sam. Go to that bar we passed on our way here. Hit on the bartender or whoever floats your boat. Get laid,” adamant Dean hands Sam a condom. “Don’t come back before you got laid.”

“DEAN!”

“SAM!”

“FINE!”

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks, giving Sam a sweet smile. The kind of smile she spares for men like Sam who rarely stumble into her bar. “Beer, Whiskey, or something sweeter?”

“Beer is fine,” Sam looks around the almost empty bar, hating Dean made him leave. “Maybe some peanuts too.”

“I wouldn’t eat the peanuts,” watching someone sit next to him Sam eyes you warily. “It only makes you thirstier for their cheap beer,” you whip your head to meet Sam’s gaze. “It’s awful by the way.”

“Y/N,” choking your name out Sam lets his eyes wander to comfirm it’s really you. He looks at the tiny tattoo on your neck, a tiny butterfly. The one you got while Sam held your hand tightly.

Your hair is a little longer, and your face shows your journey since he last saw you. But it is you. Undoubtable.

“Winchester,” you tap your glass, glaring at the bartender who ignores you to shove a piece of paper with her phone number toward Sam. “You look good. Heard you killed that bitch.”

“That was six years ago, Y/N,” Sam moves closer, places his large hands onto the dirty bar counter. “H-How have you been? Do you still hunt?”

“Never got out of business,” you shrug, eyes glued to your glass now. “Heard you got out of business some time ago. Seems like you’re back to business to me. Wasn’t your style?”

“Dean came back,” mumbling Sam looks at you, feeling his heartbeat quicken when you nod silently. “Guess she wasn’t the one.”

“No one seems to be ‘the one’ to you, Sammy,” it’s a low blow but you deliver it with a smirk. “That you cheated on me was the best thing happening to me. I finally had the time to train more and focus on the one thing I’m good at. Killing.”

“You’re not a killer, Y/N,” you scoff at Sam’s words, not wanting him to believe you are still the broken girl he betrayed years ago. “I wasn’t me back then, Y/N. Ruby, she fed me demon blood. I wanted to become more powerful to defeat Lilith.” he sits next to you, hand reaching out for his beer to hold onto something to calm his nerves. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix what you have broken, Sam. I trusted you. Dean and Bobby trusted you. None of us was good enough to you. It wasn’t Ruby pushing me away, it was you,” you down your drink, slamming the glass onto the counter. “Go ahead and fuck the bartender, Sam. She almost drools all over you.”

He watches you toss a few bucks onto the counter before you turn to leave. Sam can’t let you go, he just can’t, so he does the only thing coming to his mind – he grasps for your arms to slam you against the nearby wall, his lips silencing you.

“Sam, let me go,” you pant. God, you hate he looks even better in the dim light of the dingy bar. The years have been kind to Sam. Even though you see the pain and loss he endured in his eyes and the fine lines around his eyes, he’s still the most attractive man you ever met.

“Please, let us talk, Y/N. I know you’ll not believe me, but I never forget about you. And I never forgave myself for hurting you deeply,” he whispers, lips pressing against your temple.

“I can’t talk to you, Sam. Do you know how I felt? Do you?” you cry, tears on your cheeks. “In the first weeks I-I felt like-“ you choke out a sob, shaking your head when Sam tells you he’s sorry again.

“Y/N,” he whispers, voice deeper than you remember. You missed Sam grew out of his insecurities and became a man. He’s no longer the boy he used to be when you still were a thing. “Give me the chance to talk to you, please. Dean, he would be happy to see you too.”

“Back then all I could do was to leave and still, you affect me. I wake up in the morning and I feel like I'm missing something. I know that there's something not right, and it takes me a while to remember what it is... then I remember. My best friend is gone. My only friend. It was silly of me to rely so much on one person." you sniff.

“Oh, Y/N,” you hate his eyes soften and you know it’s only a matter of time Sam will try to bring you into his arms. “I should’ve never let you go. You were my best friend, the only woman I loved after I lost Jess. Please, believe me, I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You were not only my lover but my family too. Do you know how lonely I was? I had no one left, no one,” crying you let Sam bring you in his arms. The pain and hurting hit you out of nowhere when you feel his warm chest press against your face. “How could you cheat on me with that corpse?”

“’m so sorry, baby girl. So sorry,” Sam curses. He thought about you now and then, never forgot about you over all those years. He believed you got over him and found love in someone else’s arms. It pained him to think about you; but seeing you like this, facing the consequences of his failure shatters his heart. “Please, let me take you to my home, show you a place where you can feel safe.”

“I never was safe, Sam. Not without you by my side. I-I got broken, beaten, and ripped apart more than once. Do you see the girl from back then in me? I don’t. She’s gone and I don’t know if I’ll ever find her again.”

“Y/N,“ Sam whispers your name, kissing your hair softly. “I found you again. Now let me help you find yourself…”

Tags in reblog.

#play pretend #spnquotebingo #Sam Winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #angst #tw: cheating #sam x reader #sam x you

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wyn-n-tonic · 3 years

Text

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IX

Word Count: 3,087 Warnings: PTSD. Children. Fluff. Angst. Emotions. Dialogue heavy bullshit. Author's Note: Welp... this is it, y'all. I posted the first chapter of this on March 4, 2021, and it's coming to a close today on April 5, 2021, and I'm... a goddamn mess. I'm not ready to let these characters go, both the TF boys and my own character in Leah. I really appreciate all your kindness and encouragement throughout writing this, my whole heart belongs to you. Thank you, I hope you love this as much as I love you.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Her room is painted like a sunrise. He remembers the first time he went up there, like it was the first breath he ever took. All rising pinks and melting blues.

He wanted her to feel that freedom from the beginning.

Leah’s hands climb his back, a kiss pressed to the hot skin between his shoulder blades as he dips to pluck his peaceful little girl out of slumber.

“Baby, let her sleep.”

But he’s shaking his head, careful with hers in his hand, “she can sleep later, I need her with me now.”

“Hmm,” she hums, turning him to guide him back to their bedroom, “keep that enthusiasm.”

Their shuffle is quiet, Luna’s big eyes slipping back to sleep nestled into her fathers shoulder.

He’s been home for over half a year and as he crawls back into bed, baby and wife clinging to him, part of him still can’t believe it. That after everything he told her, she let him stay. That, like tonight, she’s soothed the new nightmares like the old. That he celebrated Christmas with them, Luna’s first.

That he watched her lift herself up and take her first steps. That after all he had done, those first steps were towards him.

That he helped blow out the candles that he helped light, on the cake he helped make for the little girl who has her daddy’s eyes. His dimple. His smile.

One hand splayed across each of their backs, he’s talking to Leah but directing it at Luna when her bright brown eyes open again to find his.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, Leah’s soft hand falling on his under her small back, “I’m sorry that mama and papa woke you up.”

She reaches a tiny hand up to his face and he melts into the small touch of her, his heart swelling at the unbelievable luck he has in chances granted again and again when a little, “papa,” tumbles forward in the softly lit room.

He feels Leah jump and his eyes snap to hers before they both fall back to Luna, just over one year.

“She just sa—“

“Say it again, baby,” Leah coos, tears spilling over Frankie’s eyes.

She doesn’t understand but as she grabs for him, the small voice repeats, “papa,” and he didn’t know his heart could feel so full despite all the compounding moments of fullness she’s brought to him. That they both have.

He bites his lip while looking into Leah’s glassy eyes and knows that her heart is just as swollen in this moment and all the others.

“The next one’s first word will be mama,” his hand finds the small swell of her lower belly, “I promise.” —————

She presses a coffee cup into his hand before taking a seat across from him on the living room floor, baby toys and blankets strewn across the space between them.

“What happened?”

He takes a deep breath, finding the words he spoke out loud to his team in Lorea’s mansion, “A serious fuck up.”

“I figured that much, Francisco, but what happened?”

So he tells her and she lets him.

He tells her about the seventeen grand of Santi’s own money. How he promised himself no live fire and let himself and his desperation to give her and Luna and himself the best lead him into shattering his soul again. Ripping it up as life drained from the eyes of his fellow human beings and how he didn’t even have the protection of a flag on his shoulder to ease a semblance of that pain. How even if they were bad guys, they weren’t his bad guys to worry about.

He tells her about the helicopter crash, the result of his own greed for the money and for a lack of conflict led to more loss and conflict. How he doesn’t know if he’s the one who fired first on that village but he knows he fired, an automatic weapon slung across his shoulders as easily as the diaper bag he carries through the grocery store for her.

He tells her about the crumbling mountainside, how all he saw at the bottom looking down was himself never coming home to his girls. How that’s when something within him finally snapped, when he and Will silently decided to take the reigns from Tom and Santi’s hands.

He tells her about the fire, burning hundreds of thousands of dollars to keep warm in the freezing air that wrapped around the Andes. About the gunfire that followed them through the rocks in the morning sun.

About standing over Tom’s dead body, the relief and guilt crashing inside him like a warm front meeting a cold one. How he thinks he’ll feel those both every day that he wakes because, unlike the survivor’s guilt easing through you on active duty at the knowledge that this just happens sometimes, this time was different.

He tells her that, after all of that, he threw millions of dollars down a snowy ravine in the middle of Peru where no one would ever see it again, not even his girls who needed it so much because he realized it wouldn’t be fucking worth it for them to have it if it meant not coming home.

He tells her how he almost shot that kid in the jungle. How he would’ve shot every kid standing between him and the boat to get home to his own.

He tells her that he thinks, at the end of it all, Santiago and his plan ended up doing more damage to that country than not.

She listens intently, focused wholly on him. Her face never breaks but he can see the cogs turning behind her eyes, trying to take it all in. Trying to understand.

“I understand if you want me to leave, if you never want to see me again,” he reaches out for her hand, a shiver of shock running through his spine when she doesn’t pull away from him.

Blinking as the words catch up with her, her head shakes, “I just got you back, Francisco, you promised me you wouldn’t leave again so why the fuck do you think I want you to go now?”

“Because what I did is unforgiv—“

“It’s not, there are terrible men in this world who do worse everyday,” he sees the slight sheen of tears coat her lashes, “and you helped stop one of them.”

“There will be others to take his place,” he says around a sip of his drink, his coffee gone cold in the spaces between all his words.

Her hand gives a squeeze to the one it holds, “there will always be others to take his place.”

His breathing evens out, anchored in his chest by a warmth he doesn’t deserve, “there's something else you need to know.”

He tells her about the five million dollars they were able to make it to the boat with, “we signed it all over to Molly and the girls. Will and Benny and I, we decided to do so while Santi was sleeping. We figured, ya know, at least we were coming home. It wasn’t really money we were losing since it was never ours to begin with, Tom’s family lost everything and they didn’t even know it.”

The tears do come now, streams running down his face, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how close you came to losing everything and not even knowing it too.”

His stunted words around the hiccups in his throat draw Luna’s attention, her babbles reaching out to him the way she tried to soothe Leah’s over the weeks prior. Their attention is on her now, eyes wide as she lifts herself with the couch for leverage.

She toddles one step towards his still shaking body before tumbling forward, his hands dropping the now empty coffee cup and Leah’s hand to catch her.

He pulls her small body close, hiding his face in the crook of her neck to inhale the scent of baby lotion. As she giggles in his ear, he looks up to Leah’s soft face, “the boys and I still took three hundred thousand.” —————

“You're fucking insane,” Deana doesn’t quite whisper into Leah’s ear, “a whole ass baby with another one barely even a year old, have you heard of a condom?”

“How many mimosas did you have already, D?”

Kristyn struggles with her key in the door, a large bag in hand, “judging by the slight slur, I’m going with about three so far.”

“Fuck off, K,” she points, turning back to Leah, “I'm just saying that if that big goofy idiot husband of yours goes on another of his boy’s trips, I will kill him this time.”

Her fingers are still quoting around the air as the threat falls around them, Frankie’s attention at the other end of the room grabbed away from the pureed carrots of Luna’s lunch.

“Well,” Kristyn interjects, holding the bag forward, “that’s why I come bearing the gift of one Benjamin Miller, he couldn’t be here because of a boy’s trip.”

“What do you mean?”

Leah looks back at Frankie, his eyes now turned to the conversation. She sees the pain and confusion there, he didn’t know.

Kristyn follows Leah’s gaze before looking back at the older sister in front of her, “he promised me this was his last one and he’s sorry it had to take place during your baby shower but,“ she holds the bag out again, “he says you’ll like this one.”

“It's not a shower,” Leah rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kristyn interjects, “a sprinkle. Whatever.”

“It’s not even that since, ya know,” she looks down at the tiny bundle in her arms, “he's already here.”

“A birthday present then,” she beams, “Benny says he’ll set it up when he gets home.”

Frankie’s laughter finds them now, choking around the baby food he’s trying to convince his stubborn daughter of—she’s not and she’s learned how to voice that disgust with all thanks given to her Uncle Benny.

“Baby, it’s another military surveillance camera.”

Kristyn laughs, “yeah, our whole house is strung up with them at this point but they come in handy to watch the neighbors since I’m nosy.”

“When did they leave?” His voice is small, a slight worry behind it.

Kristyn lets out a breath, “about four hours ago, he made me promise not to tell you until he was gone.”

He just nods his head, a silent clock beginning to tick in his brain. —————

It’s been two weeks since he heard from Ben or Will.

The boys have been here day in and day out since they came home last year, always were before that and even more so now that all they truly had was each other and the families they were making with and around each other.

Benny ran through Kristyn’s apartment complex screaming her name so loud as he started to bang on her door that he was met with a baseball bat. Now that idiot was going to be his brother because the sight she was met with was one of Benjamin Miller on his knees with a ring in his hands.

They gave them space with the baby’s arrival, small and short visits until Leah felt ready to have them all over again. He spoke to them that morning as he shaved the night’s stubble away, they talked like they were coming by and how they couldn’t get enough of their new nephew. How they were getting him the best present.

Frankie runs his forefinger and thumb along his mustache now, the compromise of facial hair he settled on. He didn’t want his full and sparse beard but he also felt lighter at the way Leah laughed into him with every brush of his lips.

He’s pacing the living room, bouncing the baby as Leah and Luna nap upstairs. There's only silence and the soft gurgling of a newborn when the quiet knock comes.

Already close to the entryway, he closes the distance and whispers a silent prayer to himself. A prayer that this isn’t bad news. That this is Will or Benny, not using their keys out of courtesy to the newness of little life inside his home.

He opens the door and is met with the tired eyes of Santiago Garcia.

“Hey, Frank,” he says. All bravado of his being seeped from him and replaced with, what sounds like, apology.

He adjusts his son in his hold, ushering the shorter man in so the warmth of the house doesn’t keep seeping out, “I thought you were in Australia.”

“Yeah, well,” he turns to face Frankie again as the door closes, “I make some really shit decisions sometimes.”

Frankie scoffs, half a laugh hidden in the sound. He’s not wrong but he’s not exactly right either.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He’s walked through to the kitchen, the shorter man falling in pace beside him, “we’re a dry household right now with the baby and my therapy bu—“

“Nah, Fis-Frank,” he stutters, “just came to talk to you. And Leah. She around?”

“She’s resting but I can pass along a message if I like it.”

Santi reaches into the leather folder he always carries around and produces a booklet, the one from the lawyer in St. John’s.

But different, a different cover and date, a different name stamped across the front.

“The boys sent me to give you this alone, said we needed to talk about a few more things than just this. Said I needed to apologize to you and to your wife, that I owed you that for so much but especially roping you into that shit last year.”

“Water under the bridge,” Frankie replies softly, changing direction to move through to the living room, “I gave up on an apology a long time ago and Leah never expected one, but nobody’s mad at you.”

Frankie carries the bassinet into sight from the kitchen before walking back, “what is this, Pope?”

“It’s your cut, we went back.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re stupid and greedy and we fucked ourselves up getting it in the first place so we figured we’d go back and we figured we fucking owed you.”

Frankie squints at the shorter man, searching his eyes for the hint of a joke he’s not laughing at. There is none. His cold brown stare is dead serious.

“This is my apology to you, Fran—“

“Frankie,” Leah’s voice filters into the room, he can hear her sleepy shuffle as she pads across the carpet now, “did you feed Santiago while I was asleep or should I?”

“I fed him, baby,” he calls over his shoulder.

He looks back at the man who helped shape his life, tears welling in his eyes, and hears Leah talking about ordering Chinese for dinner as she crosses the threshold but he doesn’t hear her. He can’t hear anything over the squeeze around his midsection, Santi’s quiet strength taking all of his air and senses.

He lets go as quickly as he grabbed him, Leah’s presence heavy in the room now and he crosses the room to gather her in his arms, a kiss pressed to each cheek and then her hair. He’s careful not to hug as hard as he had Frankie, conscious of her still healing body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between them, “for everything I’ve done and everything I wasn’t around for.”

She’s trying to catch her breath, trying not to cry herself, “it's oka—“

“I should’ve been here for you guys.”

Her small hand comes up to pat the curls, a little more gray than a year ago, “you are now.”

He pulls away from her, a hitch in his voice as he says, “can I hold him?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “but you gotta wash your face and hands, no tears or snot on my baby.”

He mumbles to himself about how that makes sense as he moves to the sink, fumbling over the soap in the holder as he shakes with nerves.

She makes her way across the kitchen, wrapping her still sleepy being around that of her wide awake husband. The low lying winter sun is filtering through the windows, bathing everything in soft, warm light.

She sees the golden cover of the booklet on the counter and taps it, “what's this?”

Daylight Family Trust is stamped across in big bold words.

“That was the boy’s trip,” he whispers, “that’s our cut.”

He watches her as she slowly reaches for the document, the one that explains how this all works and looks between the men.

“How much?”

Santi rips a paper towel from the roll, “about thirty-five million.”

Frankie holds her as her knees start to give out but she’s still looking at Santi, she’s still looking for the joke he never made.

“Daylight's your call sign, you know,” he says cooly, “all the wives get one too, did he ever tell you?”

She shakes her head, looking at her husband now and thinking of all the times that very word fell from his lips.

“On our last real deployment,” Pope continues, “he was flying as the sun was setting and the sky was pure gold over the desert—“

Frankie’s eyes never leave hers, arms tight around her now.

“—he said it reminded him of the way the gold flakes in your eyes reflect the sunlight back at him, he called you Daylight until he got home and shed the callsigns altogether.”

“Frankie?”

He presses his lips into her forehead, his hand a heavy weight on her lower back that says, I’m right here.

“Your daughter has the same golden flakes in her eyes, like you, Daylight.”

Frankie runs his thumb along the swell of her cheek, "all I wanted to do last year was get home to you both, all I wanted was to make it right and see that reflection of light back at me through you both again.”

He leans down to softly press his lips to hers before nuzzling his nose into her hair, “our son has them too, the same gold in his eyes, it was the first thing I said to Ben when I walked out of the delivery room.”

"It was the first thing they said to me," Santiago says, "when they got off the plane."

“Like me?” Her voice is soft, the heaviness of sleep still clinging to her limbs.

“Mmhmm,” Frankie hums, “like Daylight.”

191 notes · View notes

jostenneil · 3 years

Note

favourite dc quotes, especially from or about talia or selina?

ok so i read this wrong and thought you only wanted quotes about the two of them so that’s what i have for now lol

for selina

"i can't take it, but she can. the catwoman - she can stand it all, everything crummy that life can throw at her, she just throws it right back - and it doesn't even faze her - nothing hurts her - it's like she's dead - oh, maggie - it's so much easier being dead!" (her sister's keeper #4)

"bast was egypt's cat-head goddess, keeper of the divine solar heat. nobody messed with her, even the heavy guys like osiris and taurt the crocodile. they've always liked power, cats" (batman #460)

"don't come on all smug and heroic with me. i don't ask anyone for help. especially a man. i'm quite capable of looking out for myself" (catwoman defiant)

"i know men, i know what they want. . . what he wants. . . the bat and the cat. . . yeah, right, as if. . . damn him to hell. . . and damn me" (catwoman 80th anniversary super spectacular, "little bird")

"most women will fall in love at least once in their lives, though probably more. falling gets better with practice. some will get lucky after only the fourth or sixth time. a few will wait to fall forever. and she will always land on her feet" (action comics #614)

"i've become vulnerable in ways that allowed someone to hurt me in ways i didn't understand. i won't let that happen again. when i walk away from this life, it will be on my terms" (catwoman vol. 2 #94) (note: please do not read this volume. it's mostly inconsistent and atrocious and it will make your brain hurt)

for talia

"you will not have me, father. you have my love and devotion, but you will not have my soul. you will not have my dreams. as long as bruce is alive, my hope for love and freedom are alive. the foolish dreamer leaves this place and hopes to someday be free. . . forever" (batman chronicles #8)

"easier, i suppose, to love a city, than to bear the weight of true passion. fragile and overwhelming. perfect poison. the touch that lingers. easier to fight and fly and play at love than open your soul to it and risk the unbearable dagger stab of loss" (action comics #772)

"and you'd help me avoid such a fate, talia?" / "to the death - a better end than quitting" / "but why do you want to help? because. . . you love me?" / "yes! but more than that - because i would rather die in your world than live in his!" (batman #400)

"i would spit [a draught from the grail] in your face, father. i would die for you, but i will not become immortal for you. that is a choice i will not allow you to make for me. . . let me live each day as a precious one. not dread each morning as an endless progression" (batman: the chalice)

"i have had enough of this war with you. you both have broken my heart too many times. . . you wish my gratitude, beloved? you cannot have it. . . do you not hear me? i will not help you. . . i am tired of being a pawn in the struggle between you two" (detective comics #750)

"there is no honor in assassins' work. . . and frankly, i tire of my father's manipulations. all i wish is peace for myself" (jla: tower of babel)

#selina kyle #talia al ghul #dc #mine:miscellanea #asks

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hatake-no-sharingan · 3 years

Text

A Well Loved Copy (PART 2: Pieces of you)

Kakashi x Reader

Story Summary: Your cozy life as a bookseller is disturbed when a box of the worst books you could ever imagine arrives at your store, and with them a certain silver haired ninja to whom you are definitely not attracted.

Chapter 1: CLICK HERE

Chapter summary: You give into Kakashi’s book. As you start to read, you realize the book he left you has more than one story to tell. It reveals many things about this wonderful stranger who visited your shop a few days ago.

Relationship: Kakashi x Reader

Warnings: None (it has a bit of mature references, but it’s not very graphic, just be careful and read under your own discretion)

A/N: I really liked how this turned out and now I have a clear path as to where the story is headed. This chapter is a bit of the exposition, you’ll really get to know the MC better. Hopefully you guys like it. I promise next chapter will be happier and have the charming fluffy Kakashi we all crave and love, but I needed this chapter to give it the depth the story needs.

Special thanks to @seventh-line for editing, she’s your quality control guys! She’s preventing you all from reading a mess hehe. (the story wouldn’t be what it is without you <3 )

IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST FOR THE NEXT CHAPTERS: CLICK HERE

Pieces of you

You run your fingers across the cover, mimicking the same motion you saw him do in the shop yesterday. For a moment, it’s not paper you’re touching, but silky cool skin.

You read the first chapter with a frown on your face, your eyes reluctantly darting from one word to the other. Before you know it, you’re through the first part of the story, and it was infuriatingly....good.

The main character is likable from the start. There’s something about the way she talks that makes you want to be her friend. She’s sexy and confident, but a complex character too, with a dense storyline and fatal flaws.

You hate to admit it, but the book really draws you in. You begin to regret having judged Kakashi so harshly. You find yourself deeply enthralled, wondering what will happen next.

There’s way more story than there is porn, contrary to how you imagined it. Customers come and go and you barely lift your eyes to charge them for their items, always eager for them to leave so you can return to your reading.

You usually devour a book in a day or two, depending on the complexity of the story, but this time, you’re purposefully taking longer with each page. Not because the writer, Jiraiya, wove a prose too elevated to understand, he didn’t, but because each page held a secret message that told the story of its owner.

The book you’re holding tells two stories, the one the author wrote, printed massively, the same as the other copies you have on the shelf. But this book you have here, is unique. Its pages, the spine, the cover, they all tell a whole other story. Kakashi’s story.

Just who are you? The book isn’t just a copy of a romance novel, it’s the pieces of Kakashi wound up and bound together in a single object. It tells more truth about him than his silly biography on the history shelf ever will. Each time you flipped through a page, you felt closer to that man you’ve only met once.

You encounter a dozen different things that give dimension to your mental image of Kakashi. Bite marks on the bottom left corner, probably made by a small dog. Clumsily highlighted quotes, usually romantic ones. A sticky residue from what appeared to be food, maybe dango, which would’ve made you gag usually but didn’t this time. You catch yourself smiling more than once as you go on a journey with the little pieces of this man scattered throughout.

When you get to a steamy scene, you check if the store is empty, and then indulge yourself. The excitement rises to the pit of your stomach.

The main character just confessed her love for the antagonist, who *plot twist* isn’t the antagonist. He’s always been in love with her and had just become part of the evil criminal organization to protect her. After an incredibly intense fight, he tells her the truth, and she can’t resist her attraction to him anymore. Between blood, and bruises, she melts into his body. His calloused hands grasp her hips, and he pulls in her as close as he can. He slips her dress down, and she’s burning with desire. Your hands shake slightly and your breath becomes faster, heat rushing to your thighs.

She looks into his eyes, and threads her hands through his damp hair, making him moan hoarsely with the motion. In a deliciously slow motion he -

You close the book startled by the sound of the door chime to see a petite woman comes into the store with two little kids.

“Y/N?” Yume stares at you in disbelief “is this really you?”

You’re always happy to see your best friend, except now. You try to hide the book, uselessly, because she’s already noticed.

“Yeah why would I not be me?” You ask with a nervous giggle, pretending not to know what she’s talking about.

She turns towards the children and tells them to go look for something in the kids section. They run towards the colorful shelves decorated with animal decals happily. Then, to you she says “I mean what in the literary hell are you reading? The real Y/N wouldn’t ever touch those books”

Your cheeks get hot and you let out a nervous laugh

She takes the book from your hands and examines the cover

“This is one tough loved book. Which trash can did you fish it out of?”

“Stop, give it back!” you say reaching for it, but she pulls it away “and I didn’t take it out of a trash can. Someone lent it to me, and they happen to take it on rough missions”

“Y/N? What are you telling me? Don’t say this belongs to a...” she flips to the first page, and right below the title she sees the sloppy handwriting where he marked the book as his.

Hatake

“Shinobi” she whispers as her eyes widen, a gesture of pain crossing her face.

You want to say something, but find yourself stammering and at a loss for words. You know how she feels about shinobi, and you understand, but there’s something about Kakashi that intrigues you so much, that pulls you closer to him. Not to mention how kind he was that he brought the book to you, even if he’d been cocky when you met.

“You know they’re dangerous. And Kakashi Hatake’s copy? Seriously? He’s said to be one of the worst. You know some people call him the friend killer. What does that mean? The guy is nothing but trouble. Interacting with shinobi more than necessary will get you killed.”

You keep searching for words, but you cannot find them. The man you’ve met, read about, the guy who enjoys these novels, who keeps a bookmark made by three kids, who couldn’t stand the thought of you hating his favorite books, doesn’t match what she’s saying. It can’t, not for you. But you know there’s truth in what Yume says too.

He is a dangerous shinobi, he’s a known ex-ANBU, and it was true, his teammates once went on missions with him and they never came back.

“Now I don’t know if he killed them or not. Maybe he didn’t, not intentionally. But the fact is, his whole team is dead. Wherever he goes, death follows.” Yume paused, turning to stare out the window, arms crossed, “Wherever Shinobi go, death follows, or have you forgotten what happened to Kei?” She rubs the back of her head, frustrated. Her voice sounds strained now, as if going on with this conversation is too painful for her.

She takes a deep breath and looks directly into your eyes.

“Now I have two sons I didn’t ask for, and I love them. Don’t think I don’t love them, but don’t you think they miss their mother? The real one. Do you think I don’t miss my sister?”

Your friend asks finally.

You stay quiet. She takes her children and leaves without getting them anything. The remnants of your conversation leaving a dent in your heart.

You hate to see her go like that, mad at you, because you know her pain, and you love her.

Knowing those things about Kakashi should scare you away, but all it does is break your heart for him.

He shouldn’t have gone through that pain alone. Nobody should. In the end, Yume had her nephews, now her adopted sons, and her mother. You have your mother too.

As far as you knew, Kakashi Hatake, elite ninja, ex ANBU, mourned alone.

Everyday you wait for him to show up at the bookstore again, so you can prove to yourself he is the kind man you’ve found in the pages of this book. He doesn’t show up.

Taglist: @theunknownrandom @seventh-line

#naruto #kakashi hatake #naruto fic #naruto imagines #kakashi imagines #kakashi x y/n #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi #kakashi x reader #naruto headcanons #kakashi hc #kakashi headcanons #a well loved copy #hatakenosharingan

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imsorryimlate · 3 years

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Specific references in Pomegranate Seeds, sorted by chapter

Title of work: Pomegranate Seeds

A reference to the myth of Persephone and Hades, where Hades is the god of the underworld who kidnaps Persephone – the daughter of Demeter, goddess of agriculture and harvest – and makes her queen of the underworld. He gives her a pomegranate to eat, and for every seed she swallows she has to spend a month with Hades in the underworld. During the months she is with Hades, she is gone from her mother, and that’s why autumn and winter exist (since Demeter is grieving the loss of her daughter). Spring and summer are the months when she is back with Demeter, and Demeter is once again happy. The myth has lots of interpretations, but my favourite is the one where it is said to be based on the trauma of both daughter and mother as they are separated when the daughter gets married and enters a new household.

Even though Giorno’s mother didn’t treat him well, her death was most likely traumatic to him. He enters the new household of Dio (Hades) and every time they touch each other in a way that isn’t befitting father and son, one could say that Giorno swallows another pomegranate seed, and it binds him to the underworld. In this case, the underworld would both represent the criminal world, but also the trap of their incestuous relationship that he then cannot leave, should he want to.

No specific references in chapters 1 & 2.

Chapter 3:

Demetra – Giorno’s mother doesn’t have a name in canon, so I made one up. Demetra is the Italian version of Demeter, which is the name of the Greek goddess of agriculture and harvest. The goddess is the mother of Persephone, and the title of this fic – Pomegranate Seeds – is a reference to the myth of Hades and Persephone.

The biblical paintings in the church – John the Baptist (martyr) was beheaded, and Judas (traitor) hung himself. The imagery around Eve, the snake and the red apple, well… depending on how you interpret the story in the Bible, this could mean that the scene doesn’t represent a fall from grace, but rather that it was God’s intention to have humanity step into the broader world.

Dio’s books – I mostly just had a look at my own bookshelf, but I purposely included Nabokov, Machiavelli, and Plato. Nabokov, of course, references his infamous novel Lolita. Machiavelli was an Italian politician and philosopher during the Renaissance, and he’s most famous for his book The Prince, where he gave rulers quite… devious advice, not shying away from unethical and corrupt means. Therefore Machiavelli and the derived term Machiavellian often denotes (political) deceit. And Plato, well, in his text The Symposium he speaks of the ancient practice of pederasty in a very positive manner, and claiming that it is the purest form of love.

Aniara – I picked the book because it’s my sister’s favourite. It is a book-length epic science fiction poem that narrates the tragedy of a large passenger spacecraft carrying a cargo of colonists escaping destruction on Earth veering off course, leaving the Solar System and entering into an existential struggle. This is the “space-travel” Giorno later reflects on while in the bath.

No specific references in chapter 4.

Chapter 5:

The next reference to Machiavelli – Giorno thinks about Machiavelli and the question if it is better to be feared or loved, which is something Machiavelli writes about in his book The Prince, where he states that it is better for a ruler to be feared than loved, if they cannot be both.

No specific references in chapter 6.

Chapter 7:

Reckless – Giorno notes that Dio wants him “recklessly, passionately”. This is one of the two times the word “reckless” is used in this story; the only other time being in the first chapter when Giorno’s mother dies after her car collides with a reckless truck. Dio’s desire for Giorno is tied together with that accident, as if it’s equally dangerous.

Jewel – “Yes, Giorno would like something like that; to show Dio that he was a prized jewel, cut to fit perfectly in the curve of his palm.” This line directly references the Song of Songs 7:1 “Your rounded thighs are like jewels, the work of a master hand.”

Eden – “How truly unfortunate, that the most tempting fruit should be found in the middle of Eden.” The garden of Eden, in the Bible, is where life is first created by God. It can therefore also symbolise family, where life also is created. So what Dio essentially says here is “what a shame the most fuckable person is found in my family”.

Draconic tendencies – Giorno having “draconic tendencies” is a reference to his earlier thoughts about Abbacchio hoarding Bucciarati like a jealous dragon.

Chapter 8:

Buttercups – Giorno picks a bouquet of buttercups for Dio, and buttercups have traditionally been associated with childhood. It is meant to express that Giorno, no matter how mature he himself is convinced that he is, still has a childish edge to his affection. As a fun aside, the Latin name for buttercups is Ranunculus, which means “little frog”.

Leda and the Swan – the painting Dio has in his study. It is, of course, an erotic yet controversial motif in itself, but there are some references to the Greek myth it is based on. In it, Zeus disguises himself as a swan and copulates with Leda. It is not entirely clear if it is by rape or seduction. Zeus, of course, is known for his sexual escapades, his violent temper and jealousy, but here he disguises himself as a swan, which is an animal that in European culture often has symbolised love and fidelity. This story of a shady person disguising himself as someone loving, to enter a relationship where consent is dubious at best, well… I think the implications are clear. As a fun aside, the name Zeus and the name Dio are directly connected.

Uneasy lies the head – the whole quote is “uneasy lies the head that wears a crown”, a saying from Shakespeare’s play Henry IV, Part 2, meaning that someone with great responsibilities won’t be able to rest properly.

The prodigal son – it’s a reference to a parable in the Bible, from Luke 15:11-32. The story goes that a son requests his inheritance early, spends it all irresponsibly, and then returns home to beg his father to let him work for him. His father, however, welcomes him home with open arms and throws a feast, which indicates that he has hopefully waiting for the son to return.

Nakedness – the scene in Giorno’s room, where he lowers his duvet to display his “nakedness”, the word choice here is important. Except for Genesis 42, all biblical occurrences of the common idiom ”to see the nakedness of” or “to uncover the nakedness of” are explicitly sexual, usually referring to incest. The Classical Hebrew word 'erwā is not “nudity” but “nakedness”, in the sense of something that is unseemly or improper to look at or expose; often used to denote forbidden sexual relations.

Chapter 9:

Wine-dark – Dio’s eyes are described as wine-dark, which is a reference to the use of “wine-dark sea” in Homer. It’s an epithet used in the Iliad and the Odyssey, of uncertain meaning. What exactly does it mean that the sea is “wine-dark”? Is it a reference to the stormy sea being unpredictable, like someone who’s drunk on wine? Or does it tell us something about how ancient Greeks perceived colours, where maybe depth and opacity levels were more important than hues?

Ambrosia – Giorno compares the taste of Dio’s seed to ambrosia, which is the food and drink of the gods in Greek mythology.

Lollipop – Giorno is sucking on a lollipop while he’s out shopping. This is a shameless reference to the most culturally recognised image of Nabokov’s Lolita, where Sue Lyon, the actress who portrayed the character Lolita in Stanley Kubrick’s film adaption of the novel, is sucking on a red lollipop while wearing heart-shaped sunglasses. It’s worth noting, however, that the character Lolita doesn’t eat a lollipop in the novel or Kubrick’s film, and the images were only used for promotion. Either way, the lollipop has nonetheless become a symbol for playful, youthful temptation.

No specific references in chapter 10.

Chapter 11:

Dio’s alarming beauty – Giorno reflects on how beautiful Dio is, that he is alarmingly beautiful. This is a reference to a quote from The Secret History by Donna Tartt: “Beauty is rarely soft or consolatory. Quite the contrary. Genuine beauty is always quite alarming.”

Chapter 12:

Kisses – there’s a lot of descriptions of kissing in the beginning of this chapter, and it is all a reference to the biblical book Song of Songs. “Honey-sweet kisses that melted his tongue” is a reference to Song of Songs 4:11 “honey and milk are under your tongue”. On a more complicated note… “those kisses, Giorno drank them from his mouth like they were life-giving water” is a reference to Song of Songs 1:2 that should be “I want to drink kisses from his mouth”, however, most translations will read “let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth”. It’s really complicated as to why I and others would translate it differently, but in general it has to do with the manuscript and the Masoretic editors’ vocalisation, which in turn has a lot to do with evaluating Classical Hebrew grammar and poetic conventions… I am going to spare you that lecture, but I still wanted to let you know that you won’t find that wording in most English translations of the Bible.

The garden, Eden, and juvenile sex – this all ties together. The garden of Eden is, in the Bible, where life is created and before “the fall of man”, it is a place of peace and innocence. Now, it might seem strange to refer to innocence in a story like this, but there still is a certain kind of innocence to their relationship, especially on Giorno’s end. They are described as “easy and unafraid, in full view of God”, which again is a reference to the biblical creation story; after “the fall of man”, when Adam and Eve have sinned, they are suddenly afraid of God and tries to hide from him, and for the first time shield their nudity, since they have now lost that innocence. So, Dio and Giorno being unafraid in full view of God is another reference to them being fairly innocent. At least that’s how Giorno conceptualises it.

Satyriasis – a word for excessive sexual desire, and an outdated term for hypersexuality. The word was developed in relation to the satyrs of Greek mythology, who were lustful woodland gods.

Nipple play – Giorno sucking on Dio’s tits, well… quite obvious reference, but if you missed it; it’s a reference to breastfeeding and nourishment.

Sunlight – in Stardust Crusaders, Dio tells Polnareff that he too has pain in his life because he can never see the sunlight, since he is a vampire. In this story, Dio isn’t a vampire, but I still wanted to include this pain. Dio’s love for the sunshine, and the depravation of it in his childhood, is my attempt to reconceptualise it.

Chapter 13:

Ice cream – elder flower sorbet has a tendency to taste like laundry detergent if you’re not careful, so Mista definitely picked the wrong flavour that time.

Know thy enemy – “know thy enemy” is a famous quote from The Art of War by Sun Tzu.

Chapter 14:

Paradise burning – more Eden references, they never truly stop.

Loins – in Classical Hebrew, one specifically emphasises that a child has sprung from someone’s loins to indicate that it is a biological child rather than an adopted one.

Deadly sins – Giorno notes that one of the seven deadly sins, sloth (that is, excessive laziness and indifference), doesn’t come as naturally to him as others would (such as lust or pride).

Know thy self – another reference to the famous quote of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War.

Companion – Giorno thinks about how the universe has blessed Dio with a companion that can keep up with him, which is a subtle reference to the creation myth in the Bible. There, God creates the first human, Adam. Adam attempts to find a companion amongst the other creatures, but cannot find an equal until God creates another human – incidentally, God creates another human from Adam (by his rib), which of course parallels with Giorno being created from Dio, since he is his biological child.

Clay – the dream Giorno has of Dio forming him out of clay and breathing life into him is another direct reference to the creation myth in the Bible, where God forms the first human out of clay/soil/dust from the ground and breathes life into his nostrils. Similar creation myths are found in several ancient Near Eastern religions. If you want a little more “fun” fact, the first human is named Adam, a name he gets from the Classical Hebrew word for “man” (as in human – not male), which is adam, and the word for “ground” is adamah, which ties to all together quite nicely.

Nakedness – Dio uncovers Giorno’s nakedness, and just like in chapter 8 it’s a biblical reference. Except for Genesis 42, all biblical occurrences of the common idiom ”to see the nakedness of” or “to uncover the nakedness of” are explicitly sexual, usually referring to incest. The Classical Hebrew word 'erwā is not “nudity” but “nakedness”, in the sense of something that is unseemly or improper to look at or expose; often used to denote forbidden sexual relations.

Chapter 15.

Cuddling – after having breakfast, they cuddle, and their position is described as Giorno resting his head on Dio’s left arm, and Dio draping his other arm over Giorno’s waist. This position is a reference to the biblical book the Song of Songs 2:6 “His left arm is under my head, and his right arm embraces me.”

Angel lust – Dio gets hard after Giorno chokes him, which he says is a perfectly natural reaction to being choked. Which it is! “Angel lust” or “death erection” refers to the phenomenon of men executed by hanging having an erection, because of the increased downward blood flow. After observing this, doctors in the 17th century started prescribing choking sex to men with erectile dysfunction, and that’s partly where erotic asphyxiation comes from.

England – the phrase “lie back and think of England”, alternatively “close your eyes and think of England” is an old-timey reference to unwanted sex that one doesn’t enjoy – specifically used for sex within a marriage, which at least back in the day was more of an economic arrangement than a love affair. Disgustingly, it means “just lie back and endure it”.

Bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh – this is another reference to the creation story in the Bible. The specific verse is Genesis 2:23, when God has created another human to be a worthy companion of the first one. Adam, the first human, has searched for a companion among the animals but been unsuccessful to find an equal. But when he meets the newly created Eve, the second human, he exclaims “At last! This is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh” (since she was created from his rib). That “at last!” is very sweet – and fits in this story too! Dio has finally found a worthy companion to share his highest highs and deepest lows with.

Chapter 16.

Roses – Giorno buys a bouquet of roses for Dio. This is intended as a contrast to the buttercups he picked for Dio in chapter 8, being that roses are a much more “mature” flower than buttercups, therefore showing that Giorno has matured. Also, the fact that he buys the bouquet of roses while he picked the buttercups indicate a certain loss of simplicity and naturalness in their relationship.

Fin.

#/#//#///#////#/////#just fanfiction stuff pls look away #i tried to make this a private post but tumblr be fucking with me #pomegranate seeds references

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mantra4ia · 3 years

Text

Debris: speculation and things we know so far about...

Finola

Her mother, Jenna Goldland, died of cancer. Natural causes? Genetics? Debris side effect? All speculative.

Her father, George Jones, was an astrophysicist that allegedly took his life because he couldn't cope with multiple disorienting losses in his life (his wife, his work, his sense of self and purpose) and was revived by debris.

She took her dad's watch after staying with him in the morgue.

She holds Maddox partly responsible for his death, which leaves a certain unresolved tension between her and Bryan since Bryan considers Maddox a mentor just shy of unimpeachable.

Her semi-estranged sister Dee Dee has problems with substance abuse. (1x01)

Despite her claims to not get along well with Dee Dee in episode 2, Finola craves and clearly misses familial connections because she feels so alone. It's a slow and steady burn. Which is why she goes out of her way to repair and protect families for other people. Whether it's talking to Isla in episode 1 about her mother's grief, or trying to break bad news to Caroline about her father in episode 7, episode 4 where she nearly touches Efrain's arm before deciding to reunite him and his family, or episode 3 where she watches from a distance as Nicole and Richard Hegman, a father and daughter separated for years and connected by dreams — that George only ever thought to study in order to solve differential equations— touch hands through glass, reunited. That's why she begs her father to make room for her in episode 8 and why it's such a personal sacrifice to give up a version of her father in episode 10 that tells Finola he loves her.

She and Bryan share an unspoken bond over dealing with grief.

Finola is very go-with-her-gut but not in the same sense as Bryan who is pragmatic, nor her father who is empiric, but an amalgam of pragmatism, data, and a majority largely composed of empathy. She knows how to read and respond to people, and she bases many of her decisions on the human cost. So whereas Bryan trusts his instinct to take split second, impulsive risks where time is the essence, Finola trusts her gut to weigh out the cost overall before taking the decisive risk.

It's unclear as to what she did before MI6 and Orbital. She reports to Priya Ferris, but it's not said how close the professional relationship is.

She grew up in the UK and spent at least part of her childhood in the Isle of Wight. Since joining Orbital, she has a stateside apartment in DC.

Favorite Finola quotes

"I know what grief can do to a person...I was completely lost, just closed off from everyone." 1x01 Pilot

"I always find when I give a part of myself, I get so much more back. Connection is all we really have to keep us on the ground here." 1x01

"I can't help but wonder what aspect of you I would have seen that matters most... You're more than just a federal agent [Bryan] but it's the only thing you've shown man and that's the least important thing." 1x02 You Are Not Alone

"So there's a whole secret peeps subculture then?...I asked them to get the stalest ones they could find." 1x02

"Let's just look out for each other." 1x02

"If we're not willing to use this technology on these people then we're not worthy to have it." 1x03 Solar Winds

"You know, when they designed it, I really don’t think NASA engineers intended that to be your personal toaster oven, Bryan." 1x06 Supernova

"It's not aliens [Niels]" 1x10 I Am Icarus

"You get a cereal box. Honey Nut Malcontent." 1x10

"You know, you could just pull up a chair to the buffet [Bryan]." 1x07 You Can Call Her Caroline

"I really understand how important your work is to you. I just wished there was room in there for me." 1x08 Spaceman

"They are liars, all of them." 1x08

"You're not getting [my father] either [Ferris]. I know what you did...I will let you know what you need to know when I know it." 1x08

"I did it because it was right." / "People deserve to know what happens to the ones they love." 1x04 In Universe

"You fight so bravely because you have nothing and you want nothing because you are afraid to have something to lose. Because if you did, your heart would no longer be steel." 1x09 Do You Know Icarus? A slightly less than subtle illustration of a causal loop that proliferates the reality arc: in being afraid to have something to lose, your heart is no longer impervious and steeled. This means you have something, which is why you fight so bravely— regardless of whether you are able to admit it.

#nbc debris #finola jones #character study #renew Debris

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thecloserkin · 4 years

Text

fic rec: Vignettes by CosmicZombie

fandom: The Borgias (Showtime 2011)

pairing: Cesare Borgia/Lucrezia Borgia

word count: 17k

is it explicit: yes

bottom line: Cesare heals Lucrezia from the emotional trauma of her marriage; this fic healed me from the ennui of being alive

It’s an S1 AU where Lucrezia returns to Rome from Pesaro to await her divorce, but Rome does not feel like home anymore and Lucrezia does not feel like herself. Pesaro isn’t just a place, you see—it’s the physical manifestation of Lucrezia’s loss of identity. That bastard Giovanni Sforza made her feel worthless, made her feel like less than nothing, and you don’t recover from that kind of abuse overnight. This fic pulls off an astounding sleight of hand where it repeatedly juxtaposes Pesaro against Rome, alien-place against home-place, and then it turns out Rome isn’t home—Cesare is home. That revelation hit me like a ton of bricks.

“Am I different, Cesare?” “You are Lucrezia.” “I—I sometimes feel as though I cannot remember who I used to be.”

She’s home but not home; she’s with Cesare but she wants to be with him more (she wants his dick inside her lol).

This fic takes its time with the slow buildup of UST, and I adore how tactile Lucrezia and Cesare are. We have tears being wiped away, nose bumps, brushing of lips against knuckles, warm breath on skin, dancing in the moonlight, cuddling, even bedsharing! Another thing I’m in awe of is the imagery: I could hear the burbling of the water fountain and I was getting sleepy just from the descriptions of sunlight. She even has a dream where she sees Cesare in her own reflection in a mirror, and it was such a disturbing image that it stayed with me. In truth it’s a dreamlike atmosphere that’s evoked here—Vanozza, Juan, Gioffre etc are onscreen for 0.2 seconds even though they’re all living at the villa together—it’s pretty tightly centered on Lucrezia and Cesare. What’s going on in the outside world?? Is France about to invade & occupy the Vatican? Is Milan in cahoots with them? Are there rumblings of discontent from Naples? Has Savonarola set Florence on fire yet? Who tf knows—not Cesare or Lucrezia, they’re in their own little bubble!!!

When other characters are mentioned, however, the context is revealing:

Juan had mocked them when they were children for being like a two-headed Cerberus

Djem had told her of Indian tigers once, how when the monsoon came after months of drought they sometimes drank so much in compensation that they drowned their own hearts in water.

That second quote!!! That’s Lucrezia being reunited with Cesare and immediately trying not to gorge herself on him. She missed him so much while she was away in Pesaro!

So Lucrezia has insomnia. Of course, before she left Rome, she used to sleep like a baby:

“Come,” Cesare said gently, pulling their clasped hands to his chest and kissing her knuckles. “Let me read you to sleep as I used to…What should you like to hear, sis?” “Anything so long as it is in your voice,” Lucrezia murmured, eyelids heavy.

This passage, I think, best encapsulates the rupture that has occurred in Lucrezia:

She wondered now that she was back how she had been able to bear being away from him for so long, but then she felt that she had not only been away from him while at Pesaro, but also away from herself. Now that she had returned she ached for both of them so deeply she felt as though it would consume her.

What a turn of phrase! She had not only been away from Cesare but away from herself. Because Cesare is her own self q.e.d. bye

“Sometimes I feel as though I no longer exist,” Lucrezia whispered, leaning her forehead against his … It is only when I am with you that I feel like myself again, Cesare.” “I would cut out his heart for what he has done to you, sis.” “What good is his heart? It will not make me feel myself again …Only yours can do that, brother, as it has always done.”

ONLY CESARE MAKES HER FEEL REAL AAAAAAA!!!

Here is where the UST really starts to build, and Lucrezia feels the little tremors of physical attraction under her abiding affection for Cesare:

she felt as though she were simultaneously glimpsing the assurance of the one thing which would never change, and flickers of things she had always known before but never truly been confronted with.

shoulders pressed together the way they had sat together so often over the years; on one or other of their beds, or the walls of the Vatican, or on this very spot – yet it somehow felt infinitely different to any of those times. He had always been her solace, in everything. Never before had he somehow been part of what troubled her.

This is a conversation wherein Lucrezia doubts she is worthy enough to experience all-consuming soul-engulfing romantic love the way it’s valorized in stories and songs:

“But you have been with women, Cesare …You know what it is to love someone, to be loved. I have not known that. I may never know it.” “You will know it someday, my love. I promise you.“ “But I do not know it now. Tell me what it is like. Tell me that it exists…Please, Cesare.” “I do not know if I have ever loved a woman I have been with in the way you describe, sister.” “Is such love impossible?” “In every sense of the word, my love.”

This conversation is EVERYTHING. I cut out out the body language but it’s like, Cesare is finishing every single sentence with “my love”??? What more proof does she want that he loves and adores and desires her above all other women?? “Impossible loves” indeed!!!

She had craved his attention and his very presence whenever he was missing from her – but she felt now that she still craved him even when she was with him. The power of it overwhelmed her and empowered her all at once, and was more consuming than her love of god had ever been.

THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER IS MORE POWERFUL THAN THEIR LOVE FOR GOD this is it this is the essence of Cesare/Lucrezia

For most of her childhood, she had lived in fear she would never find anyone else in the world whom she loved as much as her brother. Sitting amidst the wildflowers with her hair unravelling and her heart racing as they looked at each other, she knew it had been a long time since she had feared that.

Did somebody say platonic/fraternal affection shading imperceptibly into romantic attachment??? My jaaaaaam

“How many people do you think are blessed with such intimacy of the soul, Cesare?” “None that I know.”

Soulmates!!!

This is the prologue to them consummating their relationship—they rode out into the woods and the scene is as picturesque as can be:

“I do not like the way men look at me … I feel like fearful Daphne under their gaze, and just as helpless to escape them. They do not see me, they only see the pope’s daughter, a Borgia.” “I do not see only that.” “No, I know you do not. But you are different, Cesare … I cannot imagine what it would be to fear you.” “Many do not have to imagine.” “I do not fear you …But I fear this, Cesare…I fear what I feel for you when we are together.”

There’s no going back after this—they’re taking an irrevocable step in their relationship but they’re also ruining each other for any future partners, who could not possibly ever measure up.

She could feel how hard he was against her thigh, feel the urgency in the tremor of his hands where they touched her hair, feel the fevered thump of his heart where his chest was pressed against her own. For the first time, she felt as though she was given a glimpse of the recklessness which drove him when he was wielding a sword or charging headlong into the chaos of a battlefield.

Making love is actually not dissimilar to making war: the adrenaline rush?? The anticipation? The endorphins??

Oh wait no jk they don’t consummate till they get back to the villa later that night. This is my favorite passage from this fic, it’s Lucrezia running into him on the terrace after supper and really seeing him. She’s the only one who’s ever seen all of him:

Here in the shadows with just the two of them the impatient ambition and calculating intelligence that constricted him as much as his Cardinal’s red was lost, and he was just himself. The brother Lucrezia had known since she was placed into his arms less than an hour after she first came into the world, who had existed before ambition or anger in his devotion, curiosity and passion. It was the Cesare she and she alone knew, and it made emotion bloom in her chest to think she was the only person who had ever known him as this.

And then they go back to her room and bang, which is how Lucrezia finds herself again. Protip everyone: skip the Eat Pray Love and instead embark on a journey of self-discovery by banging your brother!

#cesare x lucrezia #fic rec #the borgias

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digitalta · 3 years

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( you probably get these a lot but...here i am)

i've read antithesis about 3 times, i always stopped reading around chapter 66 because it was too painful, but it's one of my favorite works in fanfiction. i convinced my sister to read it (it's like...the second fanfiction she's ever read) and she's absolutely engrossed, and today is the day i finally finished reading this tragic masterpiece. (now there's a void in my heart).

what i mean to say is...thank you (for the angst, for the drama, for the comedy, for everything). i don't know what to say or even how to say it, this is such a humane and tragic story that touched me so much that i can't even formulate a semblance of what i really want to say and what it means to me. so, thank you.

oftentimes i found myself so entranced in your writing that i feel like i didn't register the best pieces of writing and identified what could be some quotes to add to my all time favorites.

by chance, do you have a compilation of antithesis's best quotes or poetic tidbits you can share with us please?

and thank you, really ♡

So, I got this Ask a few days ago, and I’ve been sitting on it and looking at it constantly.

First- no. The number of messages never EVER take away from the meaning behind them. I could receive four messages, or four hundred, and I treasure each and every one. You are an individual with completely unique experiences and views. You deserve to be treated with kindness and respect, not thrown into a list of messages from nameless people.

Reading the story isn’t easy for some people. It’s all a matter of perspective, and how we can connect with it and how we can hurt from it. I am so proud of you for finishing it, and finding meaning at the end.

There are...sections? Of the story that I am incredibly proud of. Pointing out quotes from memory is impossible based on the insane length of the fic.

So I tried to find individual portions that meant a lot to me, as an author and writer. I have a style of writing that I started to refine much further in the story, which appears often in the end. Surrealism and lyrical twist that is more akin to poetry than standard literature. Those lines are the ones I’m most proud of.

A few more popular quotes are those I still enjoy.

Truth be told, moments I actually enjoy appear in the middle and towards the end.

Ch. 36: "I could have been raised to kill Potter." Adrian tried again, desperate in his attempt to scare the man.

"You could have been," Remus agreed, with the faintest glimmer of sympathy, "And if you were, I would give you freedom to live away from expectations or requirements. I would give you an opportunity to follow what you want to do, and not what you were raised to do."

"It wasn't your fault Adrian," He repeated carefully, "and I'll tell you that every day for however long it takes for you to realize that. You weren't abandoned because of who you are. It wasn't your fault."

Ch. 37: He had never thought of her as someone with individual dreams and desires, an individual life that everyone would mourn and miss and remember.

She hadn't...she hadn't (or had she always been?) a person, in his eye. She was just an object, a possession of the wrong side…He had left her behind, left her lying in a pool of water too weak to stand or speak. He had turned his back on her and left her on the floor.

Ch. 38: The man's eyes were bulging, his hands were gasping against his torn and butchered chest.

"He is prey," Nagini simplified, "Prey are eaten."The man gasped something wetly, it sounded faintly like a plea.

What had he done. What had he done?

Ch. 40: "I know, I just...I do things on my own." Adrian paused, trying to elaborate but struggling with the words.

"Ah, I know how you feel." Remus smiled slightly, something nostalgic and yet so terribly pained, "We all have our own burdens to carry."

Ch. 40: Luna noticed, and she smiled something soft and sad."You know, I think you'd be a wonderful thestral.”

Ch. 44: She turned, opening her mouth and displaying saliva and venom soaked teeth, as long as dinner plates, "And do you, Cerastes, have anything to your name that make others cower? Or are you a hatchling child who dreams of prey far too large for his teeth."

"That's not true," Adrian shook his head in denial, knowing his face was flushing ugly with his anger. His scars itched and his eyes were burning and his nose was filled with disgusting snot.

"Are you crying?" Barty asked, sounding like he was going to burst out laughing, "as if the Dark Lord would find you useful!"

"Master," Lutain unhooked from Barty's leg, slithering across the distance, "Master that is not true,"

"It is," Adrian swallowed, a lump the size of a walnut was lodged in his throat.

Ch. 45: "That's why you wore this dress." he realized, speaking out loud as the epiphany struck him. "So people would stare at you. Instead of staring at me."

"People always stare at me," Luna offered dismissively, "I'm different and people don't like that. I think it scares them, like thestrals do."

Ch. 46: Luna smiled enchantingly, "Adrian you're good at spells."

"I'm really not," he automatically blurted.

Luna's eyes searched his, flickering from one back to the other, "Why are you arguing? Why do you think you're so...mediocre?"

"Because I am!" Adrian blurted, face feeling warm as he flushed against his will. Luna's spell faded out. She whispered it once more, squinting into his face as if looking for something in particular.

"I don't think you are," She confided, "I think you're brilliant."

Ch. 46: Adrian's throat moved three times as he nervously swallowed, "I...I'm not good enough n-"

"I'm afraid you're going to do something stupid for the approval of someone that doesn't matter."

Ch 50: "I tried, but the little demon went savage on Mundungus again, stabbed him with a fork and looked right happy with it." Sirius grimaced.

Ch. 50: "How was your summer?" Luna asked curiously. "You look terrible."

"You know, most times you're supposed to compliment me first." Adrian dryly commented, "It's wonderful to know you're so sweet."

Luna shrugged, "You look like something's eating you."

Ch. 50: Skylar's jaw flexed, twitching as he refused to look away from the window, "Cedric really...I saw Cedric die. I saw him die, and you saw someone die, right in front of you, years ago."

"I was young," Adrian swallowed, his throat felt dry, "I barely remember it."

Skylar gave a single bark of laughter, bitter and sharp, "You don't- you don't just...just forget about it."

"Yes you do." Adrian blurted, not even hearing the slightly pained whine in his voice.

Skylar looked haunted, "I...I remember his eyes. They...Merlin, his eyes."

"I don't think I'll ever forget it," Skylar admitted quietly, "What Cedric looked like. Laying there, on the grass. He, he was just...alive, and then… and then he wasn't."

"It wasn't your fault." Adrian spoke, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Ch. 54: “You’re not unlovable, silly.”

Ch. 56: “I could set this entire room on fire,” Adrian mused quietly. “I could burn this entire house down and kill you. burning people smell a lot like burning meat.”

Sirius realized, that he was afraid. He was quite afraid actually.

Ch 57.: Adrian stilled, pausing as if in thought. He looked at Remus with half lidded eyes, the yellow far too bright to be anything but alarming. "Do you like me, Remus?"

Remus felt as if he was mourning for the loss of something gone, which was impossible. Adrian was right there, but he felt so far away. He felt as if he had changed truly, as if something hideous had condemned him to something so foul, he had accepted it.

"Of course I do," Remus spoke, voice strained and distorted through his distress, "Adrian, you know I do. Why would you ever think I wouldn't?"

Ch. 58: "I thought I was insane." Adrian mused without much emotion, "Disturbed. Psycho. Spastic. Mad. Mental. Thick. Freak." Adrian's body twitched in a small spasm, "Loony." he practically hissed out.

Remus breathed through his nose carefully, "Who called that to you?"

"Nobody," Adrian murmured quietly, "Everyone. They think it, everyone does. Selwyn has a few screws loose. Selwyn is a freak."

Remus gently set aside the comb and scissors. He ignored the few scraps of hair, and instead slid forward slightly so that his weight was a nearby presence for Adrian.

"That isn't even my name," Adrian whined, shaking across his shoulders, "I- I just want to be good."

"You are good, Adrian." Remus assured him, "You're exceptional."

Ch. 60: "Oh I know," Adrian hummed back, carefree as if truly it was barely of importance, "my life is a tragedy. I think I hadn't cared to truly involve myself to my full capabilities. Now...now with a deadline, I think that It's time for me to step forward."

Ch 60.: "You love me," Adrian whined out like a dying animal. (Which, he supposed, he was).

Ch. 63: I know what it is like, to be unmade.I know what it is like, to be nothing.And through that, I know I am not.

Ch 64.: "I'm surprised you never noticed, in all honesty." Adrian mentioned with a wry smile, "after all, professor. I have my mother's eyes."

Ch 65.: For now, all Adrian had was himself.In the sweet smelling heather and deep earthy peat bogs out of sight, in the moonlit shadow of a moss covered mountain which towered over an isolated cobblestone road cut from the mountain itself; Adrian found peace.

Past Chapter 65...honestly, each chapter is filled with absolutely gorgeous one liners. I pulled out small quotes above that I found really stuck out to me, or had some sort of important meaning. It would be impossible to pull out every single quote, basically because it would take so much time.

What’s your favourite?

#antithesis #shadowed malice #harry potter fanfiction #oceanbreeze7 #adrian selwyn #man what a tragedy #ask me anything

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sourwolfstories · 4 years

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Hey! Do you have long fic recommendations? Can you involve some soulmate fics but AU are welcome too Long like 50k, 100k+ but really ill read anything

Soulmate fics (at least 50K)

When the Universe Comes Knocking (It’s Polite to Open the Door) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

It was like a door he’d nailed shut in his brain suddenly exploded open, all of his past confusion and anger and hurt and adoration flooding out at once. Stiles? Was it actually Stiles?!

Stiles, the guy he’d had a crush on for fucking years growing up. The guy who’d been an absolute dick to him their whole last year of high school.

The guy who’d told him he loved him in a dirty men’s bathroom on prom night while drunk and upset because he thought Kira was Derek’s girlfriend.

That Stiles? But it couldn’t be!

Marks and Mics by DLanaDHZ

Hale siblings Derek and Laura have been hired to run security for Stiles Stilinski's music tour. Business as usual, except someone is trying really hard to prove they're incapable and hurt Stiles. Derek finds himself curious about Stiles' bitter attitude and a strange illness that plagues the singer. And on top of that, Derek's soulmate remains elusive.

Written Can’t Be Denied by lookslikenico, winglesswarrior

Since time immemorial the story of ‘soulmates’ has persisted. In short, the idea that somewhere out there is your perfect match, the one person who can complete you and with whom you can find total happiness.

The story goes that, the first time you meet your ‘soulmate’, the universe will give you a sign in what should be the most obvious way - somewhere in your immediate vicinity the word ‘soulmate’ will appear. If reports of ‘soulmates’ are to be believed, rather than being written of as hopeful delusions, then this ‘obvious’ signal is anything but, fleeting as it is. The word seemingly only appears for a matter of moments and only when two people first meet. There is no guarantee that they will be looking in the correct direction to see it, nor that they will have any idea who their supposed ‘soulmate’ actually is.

A fact that causes havoc the day that up and coming actor, Stiles Stilinski holds up a bottle emblazoned with the word 'soulmate' in the middle of a press conference where Derek Hale is working as a photographer, in the middle of the worst day of his life...

Connected by readridinghood

After the death of his wife, Stiles finds himself left alone with their three children, struggling to keep from being sucked into a void of grief and despair that her death left him with. Knowing his children are safe in the pack's arms under Derek's watchful eyes, he struggles to regain his footing. What do you do when the world keeps tumbling over you and what you've thought of as fact no longer holds true? As the world comes back into focus, so does the love for Derek he thought he'd long since conquered and now with his eyes open, what he thought was the end of him, is only a new beginning. A decade after he fell in love with Stiles, countless days of keeping himself restrained while building a friendship with him, Derek finds out with absolute certainty that Stiles is his mate. You only mate once in your life, so how is it that Stiles was mated to Sophia, his wife and mother of his three children, the woman he is grieving the loss of at the same moment that Derek makes his discovery.

Three Marks by sanam

"And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off— And suddenly it was done. Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt."

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

Other fics (at least 50K)

Rich Man, Poor Man by TyReed

During a first date gone horribly wrong, Stiles Stilinksi realizes that the snarky guy he's been asked out by is actually Derek Hale, an heir to Hale Industries, one of the most profitable companies in the entire world. Who is, for whatever reason, interested in the son of a teacher and a cop, a loser who spends all weekend watching movies in his pajamas, and who is also possibly one of the biggest dorks on the Internet.

At the same time, after screwing up their first date horribly, Derek Hale realizes that the funny guy he's asked out is Stiles Stilinksi, the warmest and kindest individual he's ever met in his life, with a family just a loving and caring. Who is, for whatever reason, interested in a guy who screws up everything he does, lacks any semblance of a backbone, and who is possibly one of the biggest history dorks in all of the United States.

These rich and poor men will come to experience a taste of each other's lives, and learn where the real blessings in the world can be found.

Feel it like a fever, burning through the night by LunaCanisLupus_22

“That was my favourite fern,” Deaton declares and Stiles glances at Scott for clarification that such a ridiculous statement just came out of his boss’ mouth.

“You could have just told me not to touch it,” Stiles points out sensibly, squirming inside with something he refuses to believe might be guilt.

Not about the dumb plant, but the instant devastation he’s currently overwhelmingly and inescapably capable of. He can destroy with one touch now.

This is going to complicate things so much.

Or the one where Stiles tries to do the noble self-sacrificing thing: gains a new power, a spectral skin colour and basically ruins his own life. 0/10 would not recommend.

It’s (Not) a Cult by lhr111

“Well Stiles, you told me a few weeks ago that you thought Derek was leading a cult.”

At that Derek whipped his head toward Stiles in shock. “You thought I was a cult leader?”

Stiles will not be shamed. “Well, either you or Peter. Peter made more sense, but since he deferred to you that one time I was a little unsure. I mean, what else could I think with all the weird shit going on. You, hanging out with random high school seniors, doing secret things, ordering them around like you are their parent, them actually doing what you tell them. It’s really weird, okay?”

“Are you familiar with Harry Potter?” Derek asks.

Talk about a non sequitur. “What? What does that have to do with anything? And, of course I know Harry Potter!”

“Well to quote Sirius Black, ‘Once again you’ve put your keen and penetrating mind to the task and as usual come to the wrong conclusion.’"

The Sheriff starts snickering, and Stiles is both insulted and also a little in love.

Call Me (Cliché) by SomewheresSword

When the sheriff's sister ends up in a wheelchair for the duration of summer, Stiles' dreams of three months full of pack bonding, late-night video games and bro-time with Scott come crashing down. He's temporarily relocated to Redford, a three hour drive away, and he can already tell he won't be getting many visitors.

Sure the pack will forget about him while he's gone, Stiles is determined to make the most of his summer of isolation, training his body and mind - and his magic - so he can come back with a bang, and maybe catch a certain Sourwolf's eye.

Then Derek shows up at his window one night with a flimsy excuse about needing research done. Suddenly, his summer away is looking a whole lot more interesting.

There’s No Escape for the Potato Man by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“Who is this? Where’s Erica?”

“Wrong number, asshole!”

“Stop calling me an asshole,” the man on the other end snapped aggressively.

Stiles could understand. He’d be pretty aggressive too if he’d murdered someone and texted a wrong number to ask for help burying the body. This guy obviously failed How To Be a Serial Killer 101.

“What kind of idiot thinks I murdered someone?”

“The kind of idiot who got your text messages, you fucking dumbass!” he retorted hotly. “Maybe double check your contacts before sending a random stranger details on your nefarious plans to dispose of a freshly cut up body!”

“What?!” the guy on the other end demanded, crossed between horrendously confused and livid.

---------------

If you want more soulmate fics you can check that tag here

you can also find more long fics here and here

Happy Reading :)

#answered #anonymous #sterek #sterek fic rec #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #soulmates au

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