#I PROVIDED FOR THEM IN LIFE ILL DO IT IN DEATH FUCKERS

[crow-n-tell]

Whenever people who hate cats say “oh don’t you know your cat doesn’t even love you? When you die they’re gonna eat your corpse.” im just like ??? Yeah?? Why is that a problem???

When I’m dead I’m still going to be loving and providing for them, you can go ahead and hope whatever you raise mourns over your rotting corpse just to die starving and alone.

Also dogs are just as likely to eat their owners corpses, so…

[evita-shelby]

Between the Shadow and the Soul

Chapter 32

Michael looks pensive and hides the subtle looks of longing at the bag of apples the nurse hid. Polly didn’t like her son keeping ties with his foster family and everyone else was a little concerned how easily the boy cut them out of his life. Tommy most especially. Set off warning bells, he had confided in her long ago.

“Before we start this extraordinary general meeting of the board of the Shelby Company Limited, I’d like to note the absence of the Deputy Vice President who has not yet arrived. We will continue without his presence.” He throws a knowing look at her and she plays the innocent dove to his chagrin.  

“Item number one. The reinstatement of the Shelby Company Limited Company Treasurer. The board welcomes back the former treasurer, with generously improved terms and conditions.”

And boy were they generous, Polly was still angry and breathing through the wounds. It would be a long time before she fully moves on.

“Due to the exceptionally difficult circumstances the company now finds itself in. The proposed treasurer will now check the terms and conditions to see if they are in order.” He hands out the papers from his brief case to the corresponding people and continues. Business was his element, and from business it was only a step away from politics.

“Item number two. During the absence of the Company Accountant, due to ill health, all responsibility for the keeping of company accounts pass to the head of acquisitions.

Item number three. The Company Treasurer, having read the terms and condition, lodges a signed contract of employment agreeing to the terms and conditions with the temporary head of accounts. All those in favor of the reinstatement of Mrs. Elizabeth Gray, to the position of Shelby Company Limited Company Treasurer, please raise your hands.”

The vote is unanimous, and Polly says wryly, “Why goodness, thank you.”

“Any other business?” he looks at her and she shakes her head. The official meeting will be short, while the house was a legally owned property it was hers not company property therefore there was no need to ask Ada’s permission to sell it.

“Right. I declare this extraordinary general meeting over. Now we can talk about the real business. But for that we need Arthur.

Where the fuck is Arthur?”

He won’t get there. They can wait all they want, but he isn’t coming. He’s too busy fucking Linda.

“Alright, since this part of business doesn’t really concern Arthur, I’ll start.” Eva hardly takes a speaking role since 1925, but it’s a new year and the information had come from Florence whom only Polly and Lizzie here know. “I do apologize for not putting it in the agenda, but it’s one of those things no one else should have proof of.”

“Eva has a friend who’s interests currently align with ours and is willing to provide information and use of their network for the right price.” Thomas explains taking a seat and resuming his cigarette. Polly hides her faux surprise and Ada has no fucking clue.

She brings out the manila envelopes. “They have been so kind to have the Yankees agree to pay Shelby Company Limited the fifty grand on Changretta’s head in exchange for a luxury property I own in Mexico City. They only require that his death be traced to us and not people affiliated with the American Government.”

“Which property?” Michael asks the question on Ada’s tongue. He knew how much some things on her portfolio are worth, and her relatives could use that as proof of her instability.

“My townhouse near the British Embassy, not the one Ada stayed in last summer, but the one that my grandparents left me.” Ada was not hunted by the president, so as a birthday gift for her and Karl, Eva had mailed her the keys to a house where she could invite communists if she wanted and not get the attention of the British Embassy. “It's worth about twice that, but my friend is willing to open communications for us with other people who want Changretta dead to make up for how little the fucker is actually worth.  Ten percent was paid to me three days ago, and the rest of the legal reward will be paid once he’s dealt with.”

“Can we trust this friend of yours, Eva?” Polly plays her part so well. Too bad there is a Ten of Swords in the latest reading.

“Yes, they trained me, I know their birth name and they know about my curse. Tiago can vouch for them, if any of you would like.” because the magic word is Tiago now that they don’t trust her. Unfortunately, Tiago was off doing something for Florence as thanks for the first-class cabin.

“Why is the money being wired to you and not Tommy?” ah yes, Eva knows her relatives keep track of her income and spending through Polly’s son, they would need to know why suddenly Eva had fifty grand to her name alone, or why she’d sell a house that expensive for so little.

“Because I sold a beautiful townhouse built in the late 17th century to an old acquaintance who changes their name like they change their underwear. Don't worry, Michael, you can still rat me out to Jack or Patricio so they can continue calling me crazy.” it’s a low blow because not even Tommy knew his trusty accountant was scheming to diminish her role in either company.

Why he wants her as far away as possible from the business, she has some few guesses. Ambition runs deep in Shelby blood and Thomas was more than willing to let him die for her. Esme had joked that John agreed he too would throw Michael to the wolves to save his wife, or anyone given he doesn't like his cousin. Then there was also the whole thing with Nayeli, but he could’ve kept a long-distance relationship like Nayeli had hoped for instead of ending things through a telegram and then proceed to blame her for it.

“What are you talking about, Evie?” Ada asks confused.

“One of the changes her family is making, aside from changing the name to Riley and Associates, is replacing her with Thomas by having him declare her unfit to manage her portion.” Lizzie takes a drag of her cigarette. “Only way for them to override her parents’ will, according to my husband.”

“What does that have to do with my son?” Polly asks and her anger is real this time.

“Her uncles asked me to keep an eye on her to make sure she wasn’t affecting either company. Nayeli told me she was very reckless after her family died, and her uncles wanted to be sure the kidnapping wouldn’t result their family’s reputation being damaged.” he explains, making her look like they might be right to have him spy on her. “I didn’t know they planned to use that against you.”  

Always about optics with them, after all, they are trying to assimilate in America.

“Still, Michael, you were supposed to tell me these things.” Thomas’ anger is cold, like his eyes. His trust on his cousin had been waning and now that he knew who their source was, Michael was facing an uphill battle.  

Thomas had created his future rival, and neither man knew it yet. “We could have stopped it from turning into blackmail they will try and use against our company, but that can wait.”  

Or his future career in politics. Can’t have the wife of an MP be declared insane by her own fucking family.

“Which brings us to the business that does concern Arthur.” Lizzie says, reminding everyone that they cannot afford to wait for said man.

“All right, he's late. Fuck him. This business directly affects Arthur, but he's not here, so we'll take a vote without him.” Thomas gets on with it and Eva and Polly stop praying Linda can keep him busy for longer than thirty minutes.

“What business?” Ada doesn’t like exclusion of Arthur, but its best that he isn’t here.

“Official business that can’t be written down, Ada.” Eva answers, she didn’t mean to snap at her, but unofficial meetings remain unofficial for a reason. Less proof something happened the better. “Six years ago, Luca Changretta came from New York to Birmingham to be best man at his cousin's wedding. That is unfortunately the most recent photograph of him.”

“We found out that they used Reid and Dunn on Broadgate for the photographs. The photographer kept the negatives. I persuaded him to give us copies.” Polly pulls out the photographs she got this morning after giving the photographer more than just a monetary bribe. “And to enlarge this one.”

“That is Luca Changretta. I've seen his face, so I could pick him out. Half the men in the photograph are Changrettas, which means the chances are they are the men who come to kill us. We need to get both these photographs into pubs and on street corners. Then we put it about that there's a reward for information.” he explains and pauses looking for the right words to say the next bit.

“We also propose that we give a copy of this photograph to Mr. Aberama Gold.” Polly says and Ada looks up, surprised.

“We need to forget the idea that it has to be Arthur who needs to pull the trigger. Tradition will just fuck us up.” his hands are in his pockets, hiding his own relief that Arthur wasn’t there, and his eyes are on his sister who is not relieved that Arthur is not present.

“We should wait for Arthur.” she says defiantly.

“He’s not coming, Ada, and all we need is Luca Changretta dead, that’s it.” Thomas says and continues with the meeting. The sooner it was over the better. 

“Dropping the law of the bullet is part of the process of modernization that I was working on before I...” Polly pauses and finishes the thing that’s fucked up her life. “Before I was executed.”

It takes a while to get over that, Eva had taken years to deal with it, and her coping mechanisms were bad enough to make her relatives afraid of what she’d do. A similar recklessness as the one Polly had acquired. Michael’s comment certainly didn’t help.

“Right. Let's take a vote. I'll deal with Arthur. All those in favor of giving the photographs to Mr. Gold, raise your hand.” Tommy briefly acknowledged Polly’s outburst and raised his hand first, followed by Lizzie, Michael, Ada and lastly Polly. Eva’s vote is reluctant, but hers was merely a formality.

“Then it will be done.”

The meeting ends shortly after that, it had been a slow month, and it wasn't like they could manage any more shit on their plate.

He kissed her goodbye and held her by the waist like they used to. Its sweet moments like that that remind her that her marriage is far from over. The factory was attacked by communists and 13 or 15 Italians, number were conflicting, but all that mattered was Arthur’s safety.

“He will understand, you’ll see.” she tells him. “If he doesn’t, I will tell him why he can’t do it, now go.”

“I’ll try to get home early, but I can’t make any promises, love.” he won’t come early, not when Devlin’s train is to leave tonight.  “Don’t wait up, the last thing I want is to cause you more sleepless nights.”

She kisses him this time, not wanting to let go. Times like this make her wish she didn’t spend most of 1919 avoiding him. In three days, it will be the anniversary of the day he first showed up to her grandmother’s house. Eva had used her grandmother’s worsening health to keep things platonic until that very sweet candlelight moment in the Garrison made her open the window to him. Like a very good thief he didn’t hesitate to steal her heart.

---

Its afternoon when Eden finds her, more like corners her, grocery shopping with Charlie holding her hand. He used to have a little baby harness, but she forgot to pack it, or more like Thomas felt offended on his son’s behalf and threw it out of the suitcase when she wasn’t looking. Diane was too young to be out on a crispy day, or so Polly said as she took her to Ada’s while Eva ran errands.

Charles is still afraid of strangers, mostly men in black and priests. Eventually he will outgrow it, and for now Jessie Eden doesn’t look offended when the cute little boy hides behind her tailored trousers.

“He is an adorable little thing, isn’t he?” she smiles at him, and he clings tighter to his mother. “Shy, unlike his daddy.” she chuckles as if they were friends.

“He doesn’t like strangers, which is good because his sister will go with anyone who catches her interest.” Eva pats her son’s brown hair ---which will turn darker as he grows--- and quietly assures him in Spanish that he isn’t in danger. She doesn’t introduce her to him, it's not like it mattes if he does know her name. “I’m sure Kitty Jurossi told you what happened a year ago.”

It surprised Jessie to know Eva knew who her informant was, good. “Yes, I heard. I also heard your husband’s cousin killed the man who did it.”

News traveled fast and almost very accurate here. Eva hears the ‘but’ she didn’t say.

“That is the official account of the story, Mrs. Eden” let's leave it at that, we’re in public, she means.

Eva doesn’t care if she’s rude as she keeps doing her shopping and wondering if she should make canned foods her next investment. Besides shipping and transportation, food was the other essential thing that wouldn’t go under in the years of the skinny cows. She didn't want to rely on Thomas' illegal business on this fast-approaching Great Depression.

“It's Miss now, Mrs. Shelby.” Once Eva would’ve kept her cheerful manner and asked her to call her Eva, but Eva Shelby is not as kind and accepting as she was before.

“Good to know, so why are you here pretending you didn’t make me the spoiled rich bitch married to their evil boss, rich bitch being the least dehumanizing words they’ve used to describe me.” She doesn’t like being in the house when the betting shop downstairs is filled to the brim, but she’d run there right now to avoid talking to her.

“I am sorry for that, I didn’t know that it would spiral into that, but in hindsight I should’ve remembered that race is a sensitive subject I should’ve taken in consideration.” It's almost genuine, or maybe it is and Eva is just paranoid, but it's not enough.

Eva hesitates, putting a can of apricot slices into the basket, she craved sweet foods now and she missed the fruit trees in her Mama’s Garden in Mexico. “Good, but you will need more than an apology to pacify me, Miss. Eden. You see I am not in a forgiving mood, and I’m trying this thing where I don’t forgive people until I see results.”

Eden frowns, but keeps doing her own shopping. “I will talk about it at my next meeting, I will remind them that racism is not part of communism.”  

To that Eva snorts. “Marx and Engel think people who are not white are subhuman and that my country deserved to be invaded by the yankees, don’t fucking say communism isn’t founded in racism when it was made by two racist Germans, Miss. Eden. I thought you were smarter than that.”  

They move to the next aisle and by now Charlie is confidently walking hand in hand with her.

“Kitty told me you were smuggled out of your country in a crate on one of your many ships.” She brings it up in an effort to get her to change her views on communism.

“Yes, I don’t recommend it, but I do recommend sleeping pills before boarding a ship like that. Would’ve gotten myself caught at the dock if my aunt didn’t make me take them, tiny spaces make skittish.” She was nervous in small spaces and had a death wish, two things that made her aunt Olivia give her sleeping pills, so she wouldn’t ruin everything they had done to save her.

“I saw you once, when I was younger. You and Mr. Shelby had gone to pick out your wedding ring at a shop in Hockley. Everyone, including me, thought you were just some poor girl who didn’t know the man she was marrying.” She changes the topic and Eva wonders why the girl is still talking to her. "But you are a smart woman, so I can assume you did and just didn't care.

“You must’ve been eighteen then, I was around your age at the time.” Eva smiles to herself. “God, I sound ancient and I’m not thirty yet.”

“Kitty said no one thought he’d love again after Greta, but they were glad he had moved on to the perfect Miss Smith. No one can say a bad thing about you and it's not because they’re afraid of him, you know.” Jessie trails around her, looking at the things and choosing things to buy. By then Charlie has lost his fear of her, he smiles and chatters and begs for candy.

“It's just my foreign blood and my skin ---that’s not even that tan to begin with--- that are the problem. Tom made all the dirty looks; the slurs and their disgust stop unless they wanted a Peaky Blinder waiting for them in a dark alley. And now you’ve made that all return because you are convinced that we have to be enemies, Eden.”

“And I am sorry for that. I should’ve done better.” Now that is genuine and heartfelt. She was discriminated against for being a woman, but she had never really seen that no matter how much money you have people will still discriminate you for superficial things like race and sex.

“Eva, call me Eva.” That is as close to an apology she’ll get until she makes good on her promise. “Mrs. Shelby is only for official business and people I don’t particularly like, but you aren’t as awful as I assumed you’d be.”

---

Notes:

the skinny cows is a reference to the dreams Joseph interpreted for the Pharoh, told him the seven healthy and fat cows represented prosperity and the ugly and skinny cows meant years of scarcity.

Karl Marx and Frederich Engels were incredibly racist and originally planned for communism to be for white people not people of color whom they considered subhuman, which is one of the reasons why Eva thinks communism is full of shit and prefers the almost identical ideals Villa and Zapata championed in Mexico.

Jessie here, having not really faced discrimination based on race and nationality, didn't realize going against Tommy also meant empowering racists in his factories.

[thenamesseven]

Pairing: Jongho x reader

Genre: Romance, angst, jail au!

Warnings: Angst, a lot of angst and mentions of blood.

Word count: 4.3

A/N: IM FINALLY BAAAACK! My internship is over and I finally had the time to finish writing this chapter! Sorry for taking so long, I promise I’ll be around for more often now! ^^ Enjoy this chapter!

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Blood. 

When Wooyoung opened the infirmary door and watched the scene in front of him, his surroundings started spinning around at a fast pace. The male gripped the door handle tightly, breathing shortening to avoid smelling the metallic scent that filled up the room.

There was blood everywhere on the floor. It would be impossible to get to him without stepping into the sticky bloody puddles that were forming around his body.

Wooyoung had seen all kinds of things while working in a jail. Fights, attempts of murder, suicides, death wasn't a stranger for him. This time however, there was something different about the situation he just encountered. The one laying on the floor might be a criminal, Mingi's hands were stained with blood, with theft but under all that, behind all the things he did, a good person hid. Wooyoung knew Mingi wasn’t bad, life just brought him to this place but he would have surely made better choices in his life if he had the chance to in the past. 

Time slowed down when reached for his walkie-talkie, panick was blocking all of his senses like he couldn't even hear himself as he called for help and medical assistance. Wooyoung rushed to the inmate's side, almost falling down onto the floor when his shoes stepped on the blood that surrounded Mingi's body, the red liquid made the surface slippery and Wooyoung would have to be careful if he didn't want to make the situation even worse by hurting himself too.

"Mingi?" His voice was rushed, tense and shook with hesitance as he reached out to shake his body "Mingi'' Wooyoung's voice turned stern, trying to see if a stricter voice would bring him back to consciousness. "Mingi'' He tried again, kneeling down onto the floor, staining his uniform pants with blood as he reached out to gently slap his face. 

He needed a reaction. Anything. 

Desperate to get any sign of life from him, Wooyoung's eyes scanned the inmate's body, quickly finding where the open wound that was covered by blood and stained clothes was. It was near his stomach, more on the side, the amount of blood looked bad but he knew Mingi would survive if the knife hadn't touched any vital organs. His hands flew to the wound, pressing as hard as he could in order to stop the bleeding. 

Mingi groaned loudly in response, probably in pain due to the sudden pressure on his side and Wooyoung felt as if the heaviest weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 

There was still some life in him, everything wasn’t lost yet.

Despite Mingi not enjoying the sensation of Wooyoung’s hands pressuring his side, the male kept doing it as hard as he could, ignoring the awful sensation of his hands becoming wet and sticky with another man’s blood. He was not good at this, if it hadn’t been a life or death situation he would have probably passed out already, Wooyoung was never a fan of blood.

“Mingi stay with me” He muttered looking down at the inmate, watching how the slightly older male struggled to keep his eyes open, his vision becoming blurry as he didn’t even know who was the one hurting him “Don’t fall asleep alright?  You have to stay awake” 

“Jaehyun…” He whispered, ignoring everything Wooyoung was saying. If he was going to die the last thing he was going to do was drag that fucker down with him. He probably wouldn’t pay the consequences, Jaehyun had made sure to get along with the high ranks of this jail but he would try at least, he just had to.

“I know it was Jaehyun, I know” Wooyoung looked at the door when more guards stumbled inside, instantly stopping as soon as they saw the scene in front of their eyes. One of them ran out and the sound of his gagging as he threw out echoed in the busy hall loud enough for the people in the infirmary to hear.

“Mingi” Wooyoung gently slapped his face when he saw him closing his eyes, his body temperature was unbelievably low and his muscles were too relaxed for Wooyoung’s liking “Mingi stay awake, the ambulance is coming” 

“Jongho…” 

Wooyoung shook his head, motioning for Mingi to shut up and save his energy in order to stay conscious “He’ll visit you later, stay with me Mingi, safe your strength”

“Take care of him” He insisted, not listening to Wooyoung “Don’t let him get in trouble, no matter how stubborn he is” 

“Mingi-”

“I know you don’t hate him that much” The smile of Mingi’s face caught Wooyoung so off guard, that he opened and closed his mouth like a breathless fish, not knowing what to do or say to his most recent words “I know you’ll help him, I know you’ll get him out”

After saying those words, Mingi lost consciousness. Wooyoung knew it because his eyes closed and his muscles relaxed so much that Wooyoung started panicking. “Mingi” Wooyoung repeated his name, gently shaking him in order to wake him up “Mingi?” His tone, more urgent than before, alarmed the cops outside that were waiting for the ambulance and paramedics to arrive “Mingi!” 

But Mingi couldn’t hear him anymore.

Hospitals are commonly disliked by people. It was a word that brings bad memories to people, a synonym for death and illness which is why most humans try to avoid this place. This is totally understandable though, you don’t come to a hospital to have some fun. Sure sometimes happiness filled the rooms due to recovery or births but that feeling usually got drowned by the sadness and desperation that filled the rest of the patients around.

You’ve always wanted to work in a hospital though, the idea of taking care of people, watching them recover and helping them through their illness always got your attention. You’ve been the kind of person that put others before yourself, Jongho usually scolded you about this but it was your nature, you just couldn’t help it. 

Today was different though. 

Today you hated this place as much as a normal human being did.

You rushed out of the taxi that drove you here from your apartment as soon as the driver stopped in front of the entrance. Placing some money -that would surely be more than enough- into his hand, you grabbed your purse and closed the door, half walking, half running to your destination. Pushing the double doors open, a wave of sickness and nausea hit you hard as soon as the characteristic smell of antiseptic mixed with medicine filled your nose, you ignored it though, as well as the serious yet worried glance the woman at the front desk threw your way. The brightness that only became stronger by the white walls and floor surrounding you made your head spin but you somehow managed to keep walking forward, taking step after step closer to where Wooyoung had told you they were waiting.

All kinds of thoughts ran through your mind.

You should have been there with him, you should have been there to stop it cause Jaehyun wouldn’t have acted the way he did if you had been there with Mingi, you shouldn’t have left him alone, this would have never happened if you had been there instead of hiding at home like a coward. Blaming yourself wasn’t new, you’ve always had a tendency of being a bit too hard on yourself when something happened, Jongho knew this better than everybody but this time he wasn’t around to silence the mean voice that whispered in your ear, that haunted your mind.

Standing there in the waiting room were Wooyoung along with Hongjoong, Yunho and San, who sat nearby the doors that led into the different operating rooms. You were the only ones there though, hopefully Mingi was getting as much help as the doctors could provide right now. Wooyoung stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed on his chest, tension evident in his body. He was still covered in blood and the sight of him made you gasp so loud that they all turned their heads towards you curiously, worried. Pain and distress obvious in their features.

This is all your fault.

“(Y/N)” 

Before you could say something, Wooyoung opened his arms and welcomed you into them, wrapping them around your fragile body gently and comfortably, soothing the pain and heaviness in your chest for a few seconds. The blood was dried in his uniform so it didn’t stain your clothes but the metallic yet disgusting scent surrounding him didn’t let it go unnoticed.

“What happened?” You asked quietly, still with his arms around you “How is he?”

“By the time I got to the infirmary to check on him he was already on the floor” Wooyoung explained quietly, running his hand up and down your back “He was conscious so I tried to keep him awake, try to stop the hemorrhage but there was too much blood and he stopped talking and-”

“What I can’t understand is how things like this can happen in a place where inmates should be watched throughout the whole day?” San’s hard yet cold voice brought silence to the room, you dragged your eyes towards them, acknowledging their presence for the first time since you got here.

The three of them looked miserable.

Wooyoung let you go and turned around to face them. He was tense but you knew him well enough to know he would attempt to stay calm in order to not let the situation get out of hand. “Some of them manage to find the right times to get away from us and-”

“So you admit you guys are not doing your job well?” Yunho joined his friend, glaring at Wooyoung as he crossed his arms on his chest. Hongjoong limited himself to look down at something that was displayed on the screen of his phone. Probably business? Whatever it was seemed to be important.

“I mean, that wasn’t even the place I was watching” Wooyoung replied hesitantly, not liking the accusations that were suddenly being thrown his way.

“Guys-” You tried to stop the upcoming argument, to help them relax a little but San glared at you, shutting you up immediately.

“Why were you going to the infirmary then?” He asked, curiously looking at him. “Were you involved in what happened?” He pressed further, willing to pressure him even more.

“What are you trying to say?” Wooyoung stepped forward, hating how they were trying to blame him for what had happened while he had only wanted to save their friend.

Yunho stood up and took a step closer to Wooyoung, taking the same threatening stance Wooyoung had and before you could get in between them, Hongjoong that had stayed quiet during the entire exchange and who you thought wasn’t paying attention to any of the words that were being said finally looked up.

“This is not the place nor time to discuss this” He said, seriousness evident in his face as he looked between Wooyoung and Yunho. None of the males moved, still staring into each other’s eyes right before their leader spoke up again. “Officer Jung did as much as he could Yunho, now we just have to trust Mingi”

“He better get out of this one alive” San scoffed besides him as Yunho sat back down, your blood freezing when you saw how much hatred, how much pain shone in the male’s eyes “Because I’ll make all of their lives a living nightmare if he dies” 

“He will” You whispered quietly, rubbing your eyes as Wooyoung sighed taking a seat besides you “He will get out of this one”

The room Wooyoung had guided you into was similar to the ones you’ve seen in movies before, it felt as if you were about to get interrogated by someone, that wasn’t the case though and unfortunately, you were just waiting to deliver some news. Something you couldn’t believe yet.

The ticking of the clock was the only thing that could be heard as it echoed in the empty room, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie as you stared down at the table, nervously waiting for Wooyoung to arrive. The tissues filling your pockets were starting to break into small pieces from how much you’ve been fidgeting with them and your swollen eyes burned from all the tears you’ve shed during the last few hours. Your nose was surely as red as Rudolph’s but that was not the thing the worried you the most.

Your current biggest worry opened the door and snapped you out of your thoughts, his eyes full of concern landing on your face as soon as he entered the room.

“Twenty minutes” Wooyoung said from behind Jongho, eyes on you to make sure you wouldn’t surpass the time limit he was putting on your little reunion “That’s all you got”

“Thanks Wooyoung” You whispered quietly, not trusting your voice too much. Wooyoung just threw 

a small smile your way, eyes scanning your face briefly before he closed the door behind Jongho, going to wherever he would have to go to make sure nobody else would notice Jongho wasn’t in his cell at this time of the night.

You were sure he had heard what happened, news flew fast in this kind of place but you still wanted to be the one to tell him, you wanted to be there for him even if that meant seeing him break for the first time in all the years the two of you had been together.

He deserves to be told by you that Mingi was dead, that he wasn’t coming back anymore.

Jongho still stood by the door, ignoring the empty chair that was placed on the other side of the table waiting for him to take a seat. His hands were in his pockets, eyes down on the floor as he moved his weight from one of his legs to the other, not even knowing how to stand.

Letting out a shaky sigh, you gathered as much strength as you could and stood up, feeling his eyes on you while you walked around the room, picked up the empty chair and placed it down in front of the one you’ve been sitting on all this time. Jongho needed to be closer, he would need you to comfort him as soon as you confirmed the awful thoughts running through his head right now.

“Sit down” You told him, motioning to the chair you’ve just moved.

Jongho looked up at you, making your eyes meet. Time stopped between the two of you, the broken glance in his eyes broke your heart even more and you knew that even though the words hadn’t left your mouth yet he still knew what you were about to say. He wasn’t stupid after all and if Mingi had recovered from the attack he suffered in the infirmary the two of you wouldn’t be here, looking at each other, beating around the bush since none of you wanted to say it out loud.

“Listen to me” Jongho was the first one to break the silence, sadness dripping from his tone as he reached out to grab one of your hands, holding it gently.

“Jongho wait” You cut him off before he could keep talking, the sound of his voice giving you the little push you needed to start talking about what you planned to said “I need to tell-”

“I know” He nodded, eyes staring into yours as his grip on your hand got tighter. There were tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, pain written all over of his face but like always, Jongho kept his mask up and acted as if he was feeling nothing, as if this was just one of his usual days “I know (Y/N) and you need to listen to me”

“But-” Just thinking about Mingi being gone brought a thousand tears to roll down your cheeks, your hands shaking as he gently pulled you against his chest. It was unbelievable how you had come with the intentions of comforting him but it ended up him being the one comforting you. Jongho’s pain was surely stronger than yours, Mingi had been there for him when you couldn’t, he had been the one that kept him safe in this hell and now that was gone.

“I’ll cry his loss when this is over, when we’re safe and sound” He said gently, one of his hands caressing the back of your head while the other kept you close to his body. “You need to listen to me attentively, alright?” Jongho moved back enough to look into your eyes, both of his hands cupping your cheeks now so you could only look at him, not allowing you to look away. “Things are getting really bad for me” He said honestly, wiping your endless tears with his thumbs as they fell “Jaehyun is coming for me (Y/N) and let’s be honest, he has more friends than I do in here” Everything Jongho was saying made perfect sense, Jaehyun’s freedom was getting out of control and he could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted unlike Jongho. That scared you to death, his next target would be Jongho for sure and the thought of losing him like you lost Mingi only increased the pain in your chest.

“I’ll get you out of here” You said almost immediately, heart pounding against your chest “I’ll talk with Hongjoong and we’ll speed up the process and-”

“(Y/N)” Jongho’s voice lowered, his hands squeezing your cheeks a bit tighter to get your attention “I know you will baby, I know you want to get me out of here” The small smile on his lips broke your heart, something told you he was saying goodbye to you, that there were plans in his head that wouldn’t end the way you wanted to.

“You can’t leave me” You begged, shaking your head.

“I never will Treasure, I will never leave you” Jongho’s voice trembled and the alarms in your head rang louder “Listen to me alright? Just listen to me and you can say whatever you want when I’m done” Taking a deep breath you nodded, stomach twisting nervously, anticipation killing you “Something might happen to me, we both know that (Y/N), there’s nothing Jaehyun wants more than killing me” Your lower lip trembled when you nodded at his words, you also knew that and you hated yourself for not being able to do something against it “I’ll obviously try to avoid that though, it’s not like I’m going to wait for him to attack” His smile was full of sadness and he looked at you desperate, helpless “But if something happens-” 

“No”

“If something happens” He repeated caressing your cheeks, one of his hands leaving your face to move into one of his pockets. His hand shook with emotion and nervousness “I want to do this if, unfortunately, I don’t have the chance to in the future” Before you could process what was going on, Jongho went down on one of his knees right in front of you, looking up at you with a look of love and adoration you’ve never seen in his eyes before. His mask was coming down, he wasn’t hiding his emotions from you anymore.

“Jongho-”

“I know you’ve imagined this way differently” He said with a small smile, tears still present in his eyes as he reached up and grabbed one of your hands “Because I was there when you talked for hours about how you’ve always wanted your wedding to be” Your heart was beating so fast at this point that it wouldn’t surprise you if it suddenly broke your ribcage and got through it “And definitely getting proposed to in a jail was never your number one idea but this is what I’ve got, I’m tired of waiting and I’m not taking the risk of losing my last chance” Jongho squeezed your hand tightly, a tear slipping from his eyes “Treasure, (Y/N), I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you” His confession squeezed your heart, you’ve always known Jongho and you had feelings for each other but hearing him say it hit you way differently “It’s surely not a surprise because let’s be honest, I’ve always made sure you knew you were and still are the most important thing in my life” His touch got gentler and his eyes softer, he couldn’t believe he was finally doing this “And if I get out of here, I promise I will give you the world baby, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted, we’ll have that wedding, you’ll have that house you’ve dreamed of and I’ll hopefully help you create the most beautiful family in the entire universe” You bit down on your lower lip, seeing how more tears started rolling down his cheeks “But if something happens, I don’t want to….To die regretting not doing this, regretting not making you mine” He suddenly stood up, pulling you closer to him, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’ve always been yours” You whispered quietly, letting your tears mix with his as they fell down your faces

“Marry me (Y/N)” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a proposal, he was begging you to do it, dying for you to accept him not as your best friend or as your lover but as your husband. Jongho wanted to be your other half, the person you would spend the rest of your days with, the one you would die for if it came to that “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, the reason I’m still alive fighting against all chances, the fuel that keeps my heart beating” He was whispering these words, voice shaky as if he was scared to say this too loud. Jongho has never been good when it came to feelings but he was opening himself up for you and only you tonight. “Be mine forever, you’ve already stolen my heart….Why not steal my last name as well?”

His last sentence made the both of you smile quietly, this cheesy side of him would have been truly funny if you weren’t in the situation you were in right now. He was asking you to marry him but deep down, it still felt as if he was saying goodbye to you.

“On one condition” You cleared your throat and looked at him, serious as ever “You have to get your ass out of here” You said holding back your tears, hearing your own voice breaking almost a thousand times during the same sentence “And prepare with me the wedding of our dreams” His smile got bigger, his head automatically nodding at your words “And you’ll have to wear a tuxedo” He hated them, Jongho always complained of how uncomfortable they looked but you knew he would look incredibly handsome in one of them.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to see you walking down the aisle” He whispered, staring down at your lips, his hands holding one of yours as he slid a ring down your finger, the cold metal turning your skin into goosebumps “I know it’s ugly as fuck but it’s what I’ve found around, I’ll get you the prettiest ring ever when we get out of here” The two of you laughed softly as you looked down at the bland stripe of silver metal around your finger. 

“I love it” You mumbled happily, making him laugh a bit louder this time.

“You do huh? Choi (Y/N)?” The sound of your name along with his last name made your hearts simultaneously skip a beat, both of your smiles getting undeniably bigger as you looked into each other’s eyes. “So tell me”His lips brushed against yours temptingly, hungry for kisses. “Will you marry me? I swear I’ll wear a tuxedo” You giggled against his lips, nodding quietly at his words.

“Yes Jongho, I’ll marry you”

Outside in the parking lot, Wooyoung leaned back against a black car, cigarette between his lips as he breathed in the smoke that released some of the stress in his body.

“Thanks for the help today, we wouldn’t have been able to do it without you” Wooyoung shrugged at the words. Keeping his eyes up on the moon that shone above them.

“I just did the right thing, it was time for me to finally do something” He replied, kicking a stone near his shoe, watching it get lost in the darkness that surrounded the parking lot.

“You’ve been doing the right thing for a long time Wooyoung, without you, who would have watched Jongho’s back all these years?”

“I won’t feel like we succeeded until all of this is over” He simply replied, pushing himself away from the side of the car as he stepped on the cigarette he just threw down onto the floor.

“We’ll get him out of there alive, just hold on there a little longer” 

“I think we’re running out of time” He turned around to look at the male, eyes serious and voice tense. Things were getting too complicated, the plan wasn’t going how it was supposed to. Getting Jongho out of jail wouldn’t be as easy as they thought it would be.

“Have I ever lied to you?” The other asked him, smiling a little when Wooyoung shook his head “Trust us, Jongho and (Y/N) will be out of here as soon as possible” 

“Better hurry up though” Wooyoung insisted, not afraid to pressure the other male “It will be better if you guys get them out of here alive rather than Jaehyun getting them out of here in plastic bags”

“Patience is the key to success” A sigh was heard, the engine of his car revving alive since it was his time to go. He had things to do, plans to discuss with the rest of his friends. “Pleasure working with you officer Jung”

“As long as you keep (Y/N) safe, the pleasure was all mine Hongjoong”

Taglist: @guess--monster @cometoceantrenches @miatsubaki23 @lovelyvitamin @heroesfan101 @daintysan @t-tbinnie @shyshybabyy @little-precious-baby @bebetiny @mirror-juliet @btrombley13 @yukine-smx @wavetease

[tenseoyong]

Hellooo, how are you? Hope you are safe and healthy.

So, I came across this dude on Instagram and his posts make no sense to me. And I thought 'What would liz think about it?'.

The link:

1) https://www.instagram.com/p/CNnSmzcA23J/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

2) https://www.instagram.com/p/COaVn9MgT-a/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

I see a lot people making covid-19 a life and death issue. Yes, it is but it is more than that too. My father got infected with it in the month of April this year and fortunately he escaped it alive but it effected his lungs forever. He used to walk a couple of kilometers previously but not anymore. His diabetes just makes it worse.

I hope mask hating covidiots realize this.

And this man thinks the government is turning authoritarian because it's asking us to wear a mask but at the same time let's force a pregnant woman to carry the baby to term.

You getting an abortion affects no one but you but an virus infected person refusing to wear a mask is endangering people's lives.

Sorry for the long ass post.

i hate when any man opens his damn stupid mouth.

survival rate? ok you may have a very good chance of living through it, but it’s the after effects that are going to fuck you for life, like you mentioned your father. i think it was more to do with scaring the public, wear the mask or you may die! because people (specifically americans) have this idea that just because it can happen, it’ll never happen to me. yeah old people die, but im young and healthy so im basically superman. until you’re not.

open the schools. okay, more likely to die from the flu. so how about we not sacrifice any children to potentially die for the sake of a gatcha! moment. better yet, why is it acceptable to mass infect the population with an illness that causes so many deaths yearly?

the microchip is just making my head spin stop.

lowdown���s don’t work, yeah because there’s always a few fuckers that don’t follow the rules.

i can feel every brain cell i have turning to baby food with each slide why must you torture me.

everything a man has to say about abortion is so easily dismissed if you talked to literally any pro-choice person ever.

24 week old baby. brain isn’t fully developed yet. nor are their lungs. their inner ear is just now fully developed. 65-70% survival rate. literally no person says that the fetus isn’t ‘human’ what kind of crack does he smoke?

it’s a human. at some point it’s developed enough to be called a baby. but it’s not it’s own person, it’s codepended on the birthing parent. it cannot live on its own.

i do appreciate they always include ‘disturbing’ pictures of fetuses. yeah it’s gross to look at a barely developed creature. who woulda thought.

it is, and never was about children. or saving lives. they aren’t protesting at frozen eggs being thrown out and the lives ‘wasted’. they aren’t adopting any of the children that are born and then given up after forcing women to go through birth. they don’t care about the lives of women lost from self performed abortions.

my favorite videos are the people arguing with the hecklers outside of planned parenthood—asking them what they do for the children in foster care. do you foster children? no? hm. do you donate anything to children in need? no? huh. do you volunteer your time to help children abandoned find their place in the world someone forced them into? no? oh. what are you doing to change the strict rules and expenses it takes to adopt a child, keeping many children in the system when there are families unable to provide the thousands of dollars it takes to go through the adoption route? nothing? funny. but you have all the time in the world to stand outside and terrorize people making one of the scariest and hardest decisions of their life. right.

it’s nothing but their need to control women’s bodies, and push their religious fear mongering.

[gottalovelifeya]

So I've read that twice now, and I'm still trying to figure it out, and something I can't figure out is, is there even a chance at all or am I still just being my optimistic self, I think I need to start trying to abandon that idea, becuse as it stands I'm not going to loose my retirement or go to jail becuse than, there's no future with her or just at all period, I'm just trying to not give the impression that I don't want her or I life's great now, but I mean it's literally all on her at this point, and I don't know what all she has going on and honestly for once I don't want to know, but I need a hug, and honestly even if I'm not emotionaly ready for anything serious, I just need someone in my life, like honestly it dosnt even have to be anything serious, just someone to cuddle up on the couch and watch movies, go out to dinner or cook for eachother, go out on little dates, and just have a good with them really. You see my whole thing with it thow, is it wrong to try and seek out or have that with someone, even if there fully aware that you need a shit ton of time to actually build love with them, becuse I've only ever bene aww struck once, and ive bene married once but that was rushed, and there wasn't a foundation to our marriage at all. And I mean after as long as we were together there was love, but it wasn't the kind that is like litterly the for better or worse, no matter what happens will be by each others sides, and a couple months ago she literally just bounced on me because she was done being an adult because we lost 2 houses over the course of a year, first becuse covid(not being able to get a job) and we lost all our worlds possession and I had to put down our 3 cats because 2 of them were disabled, and we couldn't live with the idea of just abandoning them on the side of the road, and just wondering and being worried about there safety and well being.

Then we moved back here so that I could complete all the steps to receive my retirement, and living with my parents was really hard and put alot of strain on our Marriage, becuse she dispised my parents because they wouldnt let us bring our cats here, becuse they have dogs, and so she still blames them for the cats deaths.

And than after 2 months of living with the fam I started reviveing 50% of my benefits and started receiving my GI bill school stypen, so we got a house on 4 acers, and it was awesome not haveing nehbors, but than several months ago I just got realy depressed and down because they started talking about leaving Afghanistan, and than no shit can't even make this up, the house litterly cracks down the middle, and she just says she couldent do this anymore, becuse no matter how much we continustly improved and our lives and standards of living just continueusly kept improving, but she was just done being a adult and disided to move back in with her dad, and maby go to school, I honestly don't even know what she's doing now. We talked resintly but that was only to figure out if we're going to do our divorce threw MS or TX, and what state offers a simpler process.

And now all this happens with the love of my life and it's just kind of like, this is all so recent am I even in the right state of mind to again not jump into a relationship, but I guess prosue just like a female companion, with the intent to you know basically act like we're in a relationship and but with this whole supper long process of realy and truly getting to know eachother.

Because I highly dought I'll ever hear from this chick again, but I swear I'm the most hopfull and confident mother fucker in the world, so it's just like offcourse things will work out eventually because I live here now and forever, so how couldn't it, but yesterday definitely clerified alot of how she feels, and that's were I than go and say,"o ya" does it clarify her feelings for you because you have no idea what was said and happened and you can't even ask now without looseing everything that you said youed get to be with her in the first place.

But I mean with all that said, it's like there's litterly nothing I can do, without again risking my freedom and benefits, and honestly if I hurt her that bad, to get to this point, I'm just not even going to mess with it, ied like to be with her, but that's probably never going to happen.

So than it comes full circle to the original question, am I even emotionally ready to try a procue, any kind of realtonship and any level with anybody, becuse I feel ready, and I'm financially ready, and I actually have like a living situation going for myself, and I'm in school to get a super high paying job working over at stenis makeing 47$ starting and only working a 9-5. Like relationships aside I've litterly never bene doing better with this thing we call life

But with how this whole situation just went down, that has me questioning myself, granted there were alot of complexitys to It and while I didn't have the right to threaten someone else, I feel like theres some justification in getting mad over it. But still i question myself because I talked down to someone who I love and that's not ok.

And than all the stuff with my wife, granted litterly none of it was my fault, theres litterly nothing I could have done to prevent any of it, but I just have this feeling that I let her down and I don't ever want to let someone down that bad, and with that like litterly you can do everything right, and sometimes life just happens and dicides to repedaly fuck you, and so the moral of all that, is, I'm not saying I'm tore up about it, I'm not saying I want her back, she abandoned me, what I'm saying is that was my wife, and I feel like I let her down, like if that makes scene, it's not a regret thing, it's marriage is something that I think should be held really dear and sacred, regardless if it's good or bad, or if you got. Married for the right or wrong reasons. So I'm saying it's like I feel like I failed as a husband, and I failed in the role of being a husband, and again it's not regret and it's not me wishing it didn't happen, I believe in traditional values and, twice over the span of a year we lost the roof over our heads, again not my fault, but I take it personally in a way.

So what's the boild down thots on that, and going out and starting something new, or more specifically slowly working towards that, I don't want to gain someone's trust and than not actually be able to provide, or more or less go threw actuall hardship with someone, and it's because they chose to follow me around there now in a situation, again I didnt actually do anything wrong with any off it, but it's kind of like my deployment in reality I just did my job, and that's that, but I still take surtan parts of it personally

So that and than, just recently I got drunk and talked down to someone I loved, and was really mean, and than put them in a situation that wasn't right, again none of it was right at all, and it was super complex, but regardless I don't like how that ended becuse it ended in fear, and at the end of the day, that's the one thing I always told myself I would never do again with any female, but hey fucking insain shocker it litterly just so happen to be with the same person who originally made me say that to myself.

So it's those 2 things that really have me on the fence, becuse it's like I'm saying I just want some kind of companionship that's more than friends, and a little more serious, but i know that me as a person, emotionaly it will take god knows how long, before Ill be able to actually love them, becuse I'm still trying to re-evaluate what exactly does It mean to love someone, becuse to me it's ride or die, for better or worse, no exceptions, and honestly the biggest factor that will come up is what are there feelings for me, becuse like if they can just be loyal, honestly say the love me, and be there for me and just be enjoyable to be around, thated be enough to earn my love, but now I'm at the point we're it's like, well ied need proof to offer myself fully and truly look them in the eye, and say I'll always be there for you and you can always count on me

And that's the million dollar question, at what point do you actually have proof, at what point can you actually know, becuse like if I'm going to just try this with some random person, like we're do you set the bar, what standard do you hold them to

So like talking to people and actually have a realtionship of sorts is easy to maintain and do. But I'm at the point we're I want the person I die with, spend the rest of my days with. Because picking up chicks, going out, fucken, haveing fun, that's all super easy and has never bene a problem, but actual love, and my idea of what it is, I honestly question if it exists, I've only felt it at it's most real with one person, and with my wife, we knew eachother for 9 days, and it was kind of like hey, "I'm going to be completely honest with you, I relay like your personality and I like you as a person, so do you want to take a shot in the dark, see what happens, get married, so I can move out of the barracks and you can move out of your dad's house", and she said yes, and her only input towerds it was we can't tell our familys tell your out of the army because we barely knew eachother, and we just wanted to keep things simple.

it really was like a friend's moving in together and just living life and and enjoying each other's company and there was love but there was no foundation to our relationship at all, 9 days. That is some army shit right there.

But ya that was really interesting, becuse the whole idea was trile by fire, becuse know we talked about it seriously, and what we were both looking for, and so the idea was you know how, there are sertan things about people that you just don't like but you live with it or accept it because you love them, well that was going to be our thing, just see what happens.

And the whole will wait tell your out of the army thing was because, by that point we'de have actually successed and started a happy life or we'd still just be friends by the end of it, and so wene your In the army they pay for you to get a house, so it was a win win for both of us, and it had the potential to be so much more, so we littrly said fuck it let's see what happens.

So that's that story and background becuse I don't want it so seem like I'm talking shit about her, by saying there's no foundation, it's becuse there litterly wasn't, and wene I say she abandoned me, ya even thow again our standard of living littlerly kept going up, and fast, we went from a 1 bedroom apartment, to a 4 bedroom house, to a 3 bedroom house in 4 acers. Life litterly just beat us into the dirt back to back, and she was just done with being an adult at that point, I guess you can only loose everything so many times before you just give up.

Ok another example, the love of my life, I litterly met her at a party, litterly love at first sight I have never experienced that with anyone else, asked her on a date at school, and we were together after that, like a couple, and that lasted years, granted the foundation came from dating for so long and then we got engaged, so completely different than my marriage

But the moral of that and what I'm trying to say, and trying to explain, is how the hell do you move slow, while having compassion, and I guess properly feel them out, and like actually get to know them as a person and at what point can you genuinely trust them, like at what point is it litterly you can say ok This is the one.

Because with the love, she couldnt leave here family and come to elpaso, at the time I didn't understand that, and sadly I lost my temper over it. And I honestly don't even know what this last attempt was, I'm just going to call It horrible timing, litterly the worst time for me to show up.

And with the wife, we litterly tolk those vows "for better or worse" and wene stuff got worse she left.

So for the wife I could littlerly never take her back because she broke our vows, and with the love I dought shill ever call, or have anything To do with me again, but sadly I dought I could ever actually give up hope that shed call, becuse it's like hey, just like the first time, I didn't understand why she'd have a problem moving all the way to elpaso, this second time now, This was beyond a complicated situation, and just like before I wouldn't hold it against her because, again this was just a all around horrible situation, litterly just wow, and this is the part were I step back and realy have to remember my mind works alot differently and so while it comes off as a open and shut situation to me, and I tried to work with her I really did, but I could never understand any of this from her point of view and the struggles and complexity of how this must have bene from her side.

But getting back on topic, I'm trying to explain this so I can read it all and try and figure it out myself.

Basically, if I start something with someone new, how do you actually get to the point were you can say you fully know them inside and out, have absolute trust, and know in your heart, that there the one, and even at that, would it ever be far to them, becuse I have a idea of what my perfect some is, and it's just this horrible reality with both the first time and second time, and how it ended, nether of those situations were her fault, and becuse of that i can't blame her for eather situation, and as unlikely as it is, that's still what I want.

Again back on topic, with my wife I always had that problem of comparing her to my love, and a prity big chunk of me still wanted her but out of respect for her choice I stayed away, and This go around I'm not worried about the legal ramifications at all, but it's the fact that I got to the point it did, I'll stay away out of respect, becuse the police are a joke and I'm not afraid of them or the possibility of dieing, but if she and the people in her life thot that was the only option they had, than ya, I feel as tho I have agian lost the right to speack to her honestly, and that's the conclusion I came to after I really sat down and thot about the situation, and I just hate it because I'm not a bad, mean, hatefull, or evil. But wene loyalty and truth becomes a problem I don't know why, I litterly can't explain it, but it sets me off, and so know she has the first time she ended it because I questioned her loyalty and lost it wene she called off our marriage, and now this time, again it was overly complicated and I could never understand all her feelings about all of it, and again I lost it, and didnt go about it correctly, I just hope she knows who I am as a person, like I was able to prove that to her over the course of the month and that I really tried my best but everybody has a breaking point and I guess mines a month.

Good dame I keep going on tangents. Ya so I'm not looking for flings or a girlfriend, I've already played those games way to much and had my fill of it, and I just don't want to approach it in a jaded way, or just have unrealistic standards, becuse there's only one love, and she can never be replaced, but maby there's someone different out there that can also be a love, not a replacement but just everything I want and more and, hopefully better, becuse I'm starting to think that looking for a replacement isn't the right way to go about it, like it seems like a toxic mindset or a self defeating prophecy, becuse you can't replace a person everybody's unique, and you can't just find a replacement. And I think I understand that know

So I hate wording it like this, but the hunt isnt for a replacement it's for something better in it's own special way, and I hate wording it like becuse at surface value it sounds like, there could be a better version of her or like there is just someone better, but that's not the case, it's just I need to find someone who's special in there Owen way and not sit there and compare here to my love.

Suppriseingly the dreams stopped and again I don't want it to seem like my interest in her is gone or any less, but that burning need to have her in my life isn't realy there just because, the way things ended this go around and everything that went into it, if she doesn't feel the same, than I mean that's just life at that point, it's a shame we didn't get a chance to rebuild it, but I helped however I could and anyway shed let me, and again I still love her more than anything, but the situation wasnt exactly open and shut, and if things got to a point we're fear is involved, than ya, I wish I could say sorry, but thats not really a option now.

I don't know, I think honestly just sitting here a writing this shirt story I finally put some of the pieces together.

If she ever calls I'll drop whatever I'm doing and give her 100% of me and all I can give, and becuse the odds of that are really low I think, I'm going to try and find someone, and not set any kind of standard based off of past relationships and personality traights that compare to her, or make any comparisons at all to her, this process will take a long time, but I need to find someone who is special in there Owen way, and accept who they are without comparison, not a replacement but just something new, the only expectation, and only thing that is a must, is trust, loyalty, and loves me for me, becuse that's not right and it dosnt make scene to compare someone to a very special person from my past, becuse there's only one love, I've searched high and low, there's not another, so who knows maby one day, but ya I've explained that enough, so ya who would have thot all it would take is a short story to figure out how I should approach the next person

[mrneighbourlove]

Band of Pirates: Ch 3. Working the Grind

Adda walked with Corsaire to this inn, not exactly looking forward to it, but swallowing her pride non the less.

"So... how did you like meeting her 'baby'?" Corsaire asked with a wide grin. "Can't say you didn't ask." He opened the door to the Hatchling's Nest, a boarding house for women. A Lorleidian woman by the name of Sayen ran the place, and had a baby dragon sitting on her shoulder. "Hello, Sayen, I assume Queen Zarazu mentioned the band of women coming to stay with here?"

"Yes! We have them all rooms ready, two to a room, and a shower to share." The Munja was bubbly. "Breakfast is served at six in the morning for the staff and starts at seven for the customers over at the Farmer's Daughter."

“Farmer’s Daughter.... that’s a terrible name.” Adda muttered to herself. “You’re positive I can’t work a docking job?”

"Only unless you rather be elbow deep in fish guts making chum." Corsaire gestured to Sayen. "Take the waitressing job. They provide babysitting; docking doesn't."

“I- goddamn it...” Adda couldn’t argue. Turning her attention to Sayen, she gave a half-hearted grin. “Better get used to a lot of hardened sailors’ sweetheart. Cause Gerudo can be a hardy bunch.”

"Oh, don't worry about that, my girl Ghrilda gave a customer a black eye for touching her backside the other day. We have a sign that clearly states you can enjoy the view, but if you touch, you're guaranteed a touch back." Sayen assured Adda with a most mischievous smile. "The first month is free; our queen graciously paid for you and your ladies to board her as well as your childcare. However, when the second month hits, rent is due on the first. It is fifty rupees a month, utilities included, and part of the fee goes toward the childcare, maintenance, and general upkeep for the building and outside gardens. Is this agreeable?"

“Agreeable. And thanks. Cause I’d just pop the next fucker with one of these if they tried that. We’re all kind of wired.” Adda placed a revolver on the desk. “No bloodshed obviously, but what’s your policy on keeping our weapons?”

"You may leave weapons in your room, but none are allowed in the restaurant." Sayen told Adda. "The name is terrible, I agree, but it is a very upscale restaurant; formal parties and a specific state of dress for both customer and waitresses. If you're lucky, you can make over 300 rupees a night!"

“That’s... a start.” Adda tried to be optimistic. She turned to Freddy and handed her the weapons she carried. “Take this to my room. I have a manager to win over.” “Yes Captain.”

"... Adda, you do realize you already have the job." Corsaire asked her. "You and all your girls. You just have to walk in and ask for your hours."

“Oh. My reputation proceeds me. Can I start today?”

"I'll ask if there's a shift open for dinner, that's usually our busiest time." Sayen then reminded Adda. "You'll have to learn the menu quickly though. There's a different menu for each shift; breakfast, lunch and dinner."

“I’ll read some if you have any.”

"Of course," Sayen handed Adda the all of the menus, each written in the most elaborate cursive of the Hylian language. "Though first, please settle into your rooms and if you don't mind, write your names on the board provided on the door. That way, I know who is rooming with who in case someone calls for you."

Adda looked at the crew and waved them to move out with a head nod. “Wait a second. Nine, ten- where’s Scarlet?” 

~ 

With Revy to her nipple, Scarlet sighed. “What got you so angry at the meeting Rat?”

Rat was trying to figure out the difference between loyalty and brainwashing. How to tell the two apart? He reasoned Corsaire was his friend and he was loyal to him. Yet, Corsaire did not demand, did not order, he asked. His captain asked if Rat wanted to be part of his crew. He asked him to help on the ship. He asked him if he wanted a different job, to have his own family one day. It was a friendship. Adda, on the other hand, barked orders like she ruled the place. If she ordered one of her sisters to fall on their own weapon, the girls would probably do it. "... Adda ain't your focus anymore, Scarlet."

“She’s just trying to keep our spirits up Rat.”

"By calling you into battle when you have a baby?!"

“She said now wasn’t the time to attack. But to gather our strength for the future. That’s her way of expressing she knows when we’re beat for now, but that we’ll strike back when the time is good and ready. You don’t know her like I do.”

"I know her enough that she'd turn tail and run, leaving you's if it meant saving her own skin." There was no way that Rat would be convinced. "Me knows people like that, Scarlet, been there, done that, ain't living through it again."

“Rat. I’m going to tell you this once. You’re dead wrong about that.”

"She ran from that Onslaught, what's to say she won't run again, even if it means you're the one left hanging?"

Rat was lucky that Scarlet was feeding Revy, because the look that she gave him was one of scorn. Her voice didn’t raise in volume, but her tone became frightfully dark. “You shut your goddamn mouth. She tried to save as many of us as she could. You weren’t fucking there.”

Scarlet never swore, so that hurt came out strong. She looked away from Rat, ashamed to look at him for a moment. “Don’t... don’t buy into rumours or assume things you weren’t there for.”

"It doesn't matter if I was a-there or not, it's what I know now! What I know, is she put you and Reveka in danger." Rat was not ashamed by his words at all. He had seen slave masters and their cruelty, how gladiators sold out their so-called friends, and fellow slaves fighting over a scrap of bread. "I don't want you going off on some quest for revenge when you have a wee one to care for; now or later. Revy will need you, I will need you alive."

“Well, maybe I want those monsters to pay too. For my own personal means. You ever have to see one of your brothers die Rat? Try over a hundred siblings to me. Children, comrades, and mentors. And the worse part is I don’t even know if they are still alive.”

"Me's lost me fair share too, Scarlet, but the difference between you and I is I don't dwell on it." Rat told her sternly. "Yes, I mourned me brother, still miss him. I don't know where he is, if he's alive. Though I can't live me life on a-what ifs. This isn't about you, Adda, or even me for this matter. It's about her." He gently stroked Revy's head with a finger. "Would you be willing to put her in danger, Scarlet? For some quest of revenge?"

“You kill the one who took your brother from you?”

"No. I never found him."

“Well I know who killed my sisters. And even if I don’t kill them myself, I’ll work hard in getting someone else to do it.” She gripped Rat’s hand, squeezing tight. “I’m not going anywhere. But I’m not going to forget. And I’m not going to do nothing either. I’ll put what effort I can in helping acquire justice for my sisters.”

"... me's not against you getting justice, Scarlet. I just don't want you doing it, you in danger."

“I won’t. I’m not going to be on the front lines. I’m an officer Rat. I command.”

"I don't want you in the lines at all, Scarlet. Me used to fight, but me doesn't anymore, not unless I have to." Rat begged her. "Please... for Revy's sake, no more fighting. What would I do without you here to raise her?"

“Rat. I can’t make promises like that. The world is uncertain and dangerous. I can only promise to navigate around the danger instead of going through it.”

"... then promise me you won't go fighting unless it's to protect Revy from immediate harm."

“I promise.”

A knock came at the door, and when Rat answered it, like a boogeyman stepping out of the closet, Klinge strode in. “Afternoon.”

"...? Klinge?" Rat was surprised. "I's surprised to see you a-here of all places. Something wrong?"

“I’m here to see the woman.”

Scarlet flinched, unnerved by the presence of the black armoured man. Didn’t help she felt vulnerable while breast feeding.

Rat stood in front of Scarlet and Revy, just in case Klinge had ill intentions. "For what?"

Klinge looked past Rat and at his lover. “What is your name and the child’s?”

“My name is Scarlet. This is our daughter, Revy.”

“You’re an Iron Knuckle, aren’t you? I saw your armour configuration.”

“How- how do you know that?”

“Because I’m Gerudo myself.” Klinge spoke dryly, turning his direction to Rat. “What occupation has Corsaire assigned her?”

"Smith. Blacksmith. She's to work with the Tablitha family who makes the queen's weapons." Rat told Klinge, still not too trusting, making sure to keep in-between Klinge and Scarlet. "She did so as a favor to me."

“Good. Additionally, she’ll hold another task. Effectively immediately, you work for me.”

Scarlet stepped back, holding Revy close. “To do what?”

“I have need of a powerful warrior like yourself in my ranks. Your training will be most beneficial being taught to new generations. And if you’re a smith, I can use your skills for my personal benefit.”

"She has a wee one, she ain't doing no training for rookies." Rat scowled. "And who's you to question the order of the queen?"

“Because I am the Supreme Commander of Hyrule. My word is the only word that concerns you. Because while Ganondorf is still King, Gerudo matters fall to me. Scarlet here is both an officer and Gerudo Warrior. Her knowledge is a treasure I can afford.” Klinge grasped a bag at his side and threw down a bag of five hundred rupees. “This amount. For every day you work for me.”

"Why should I want me lover around you?" Rat held Scarlet around her shoulders, still glaring at the man. "You may be the queen's bodyguard, but you's still give me the creepies. I sense death around you. What could convince me that you's ain't going to put her in danger?"

“My word can be changed at a will. The reason she shall not be put in danger is because she’s an asset to me and the kingdom.”

"An asset. A thing." Rat still did not believe Klinge. "... me's not so sure about you. Tis Scarlet's decision, but if she agrees, and gets hurt because of you, I'll drag your ass to the bottom of the black sea."

"It is a lot more money then I would have been making before Rat. It's more than enough for us and to help the girls at the lodge."

"It's more than enough to save for us, Scarlet. Revy needs a home, not a lodge or a room at an inn." Rat told his lover in earnest. "Maybe we can find something on the outskirts of town. It doesn't have to be huge, but it could be a place for us to grow, where Revy can grow up into a fine young lady. Safe."

"I don't want it to seem like I'm just abandoning my sisters."

"You aren't, Scarlet. Do you think Corsaire has abandoned me because we don't work together anymore? Don't see each other everyday?"

Klinge nodded. "Your sisters will be fine. So will you. Do we have a deal?"

Scarlet watched Klinge extend his hand. After a moment of thinking, she nodded, shaking his hand. "You have a deal."

~

Corsaire was waiting downstairs for Adda, when a shriek shook the house. He wasn't allowed to go up, but after ten minutes, Adda walked down to the waiting lounge. Wearing a skimpy corset that showed off the goods, she was fuming. "What kind of uniform is this?"

"Pffffftttt..." Corsaire had to turn around, trying to contain a laugh, failing to do so. "You know it's called the Farmer's Daughter for a reason, right? Hyrule women wear those fancy corsets."

"It's so goddamn small and tight!"

Other members of her crew gave her a thumbs up, heading to their own jobs. "Looking good Captain."

"Well, they think you look good, so I'd quit belly aching and let me escort you there before I have to head out to work me self." Corsaire put his hat on, the age-old same hat he had from when he met Orana. He refused to change it. "Come on, now, put on your big girl boots, and let's go."

Adda put on her own hat, taking his arm. "After you sweetheart."

~

"So, you're the newest addition, yeah? You'll do fine, I'll show you the ropes and Mikayah will show your sister." She held out her hand. "I'm Ellie. I'm the head waitress here and I usually do all the training. Since we're short-staffed, you're going to have to learn quick. Tonight, you're going to follow me, memorize the menus, and since I'm feeling generous, I'll let you take a fourth of the tips I make to get you some groceries."

"Work her hard, Ellie." Corsaire snickered as he bid farewell. "Save me some chowder if there's any leftover." "I doubt it, everyone loves Erling's chowder."

"I already started memorizing the menu, so that shouldn't be an issue."

"Great! So, now follow me, I'm going to show you where we get the food first." Ellie motioned for Adda to step quickly. "Our head chef is Big Bertie, our sous chef is Maxine, and we have Robert, Dean, Izzie, and Wayne as our line chefs. Number one rule in the kitchen is don't get in their way. Make yourself sparse in there, just come to the window to get the food." She grabbed a heavy tray full of food. "Watch a pro, and then you can try. Always serve from the guest's left side and oh! I almost forgot! Erling is our guest chef. Used to work here as a sous chef until the castle recruited him, but he comes back on weekend for extra money. Just be careful and don't spook the poor guy." She put the tray on her shoulder. "I still don't know how he does it. He's blind as a bat and still makes the best chowder on this side of the city." She yelled into the kitchen. "Erling!!! Save some chowder for that handsome admiral of yours!"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Tell him to come buy it!" Seer was there in the kitchen, adding ingredients to his famous clam chowder. "He's trying to freeload off you just cause you're cute."

"Yeah, yeah, like that will work. And thanks for the compliment, sweetie."

Adda eyes blinked in puzzlement for a moment, and her initial reaction betrayed her. "Seer?" Immediately, she regretted letting him know her presence.

"...? Adda?" Seer actually stopped stirring his homemade soup. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here now. I didn't know you would be working here too."

"I don't during the week, but I do on the weekends." Seer looked surprised. "You work here now? I thought you didn't want the job."

"Well, there is wants in this life. Then there are needs. This is a need to support my daughters."

"Let me guess. Corsaire didn't want you near his new ships, did he?"

"No. Even though my professional skill set is one a ship. Misogyny at work I tell you."

"More like he's a touch afraid you're going to make off with one and doesn't want Missy Orana's parents breathing down his neck since he literally stuck it out to give you ladies a chance---"

"Talk later, work now." Ellie pulled Adda with her. "Save Corsaire a bowl!"

"Fine, fine."

Adda turned her attention to some of the ladies at work, studying them intensely. Eye contact, correct posture, charming demeaner, listening skills, balance. She could do this. Waiting for her turn, she grabbed some menus and made her way forward with a charming smile. "Hello there. My name is Adda and I'll be your waiter today. How can I help you?"

Ellie was nearby, watching how Adda carried out her task. Good posture, polite smile, engaging conversation... seems like she did have the makings.

"We'll all require a class of water, and we'll take a bottle of your finest Chardonnay."

"Please bring it out on ice, we like it to stay chilled."

"Of course."

Adda did put the order up, waited for the Chardonnay, stuffed it in an ice bucket, and delivered it with the water. This was just like serving her officers not too long ago. "Here you are. These are our menus. I'll give you five minutes to look it over, then check on you. Enjoy your beverages in the mean time."

"Thank you, and when you're back by, we'd like another basket of the sourdough bread." As soon as Adda walked away, the merchants were speaking of how lovely she was... and how nice her ass was.

Talk about her ass was ok. A little embarrassing to be sure, but encouraging. As long as they didn't touch her. Adda put in the order for the bread and took her five minutes to examine the menus a little more and the layout of the tavern. Once she was ready, she thanked the chief and returned to the couple. Seeing the water was empty she refilled it with her jug. "Here is your bread. Any choices for a main course, or would you like some more time to consider?"

"We're all ready to order."

"I'll take the filet course."

"I'd like the fresh catch of the day."

"Clam chowder soup and salad."

The orders were placed and all of the business men handed Adda the menus. One was feeling a bit more so bold with the wine in his system. "I don't suppose I could treat you to a glass later?"

In the background, Ellie was making a slit throat motion, warning Adda not to accept. The guy was a known womanizer.

Adda took note of it, but decided to take advantage. "Depends on how well you tip. I can consider it." With a wink, she took their menus and filled out her menus with the cooks. "Clam chowder soup with a salad as well as one filet course!" She even surprised herself with how much control she felt.

Dinner was a crazy rush but at the end of the night, every table was satisfied and the tips were hefty. Counting out the rupees she made, Ellie then handed Adda a small bag. "Not bad for your first night. Here's 150 rupees." Ellie then groaned under her breath when she saw the lecher merchant. "... great. You got Yusfar waiting on you."

"What's your policy if one of the waitresses gets manhandled?"

"Remember the sign by the door?" Ellie pointed out the golden, plated plaque that so elegantly read: "You are free to look as much as you like, but remember if you try to touch, the ladies might 'touch' back."

"Got you."

Adda put her rupees in her pocket, grabbed her hat, and headed to the door. "Need me tomorrow?"

"You're scheduled for dinner on weekends, and for lunch Monday through Wednesday. You got Thursday and Friday off, unless you want an extra shift on the breakfast schedule."

"Nah. I like those shifts. Oy Seer. You done back there?"

"Yes, I'm done." Seer had just finished packing up a bowl of chowder for Corsaire and had a doggie bag to take with him. "You escorting me home?"

"Hell yeah. Think you can keep up?"

"Maybe not running, but definitely if you link arms with me." Seer then added. "Could give old pervie there the idea to back off."

Adda did so, smiling lightly at him. With Seer in her arms, she walked past Yusfar. "Order yourself a glass of water sweety."

"Hey, I paid for dinner, and you agreed to my company afterwards." Yusfar blocked the door. "Move along, cripple. You're wasted compassion."

Seer frowned at the man's insult. "At least I'm not a perverted asshole like you." Seer growled. "The lady doesn't want your company. Go away and mind your own business."

"I told you nothing but the truth. I'd consider it. I have, and I decided that perhaps we can do so another night. I'm walking my friend home now."

"You're coming with me now." Yusfar demanded of Adda. "I paid good money here and you owe it to me!"

"She doesn't owe you a damn thing, leave her al---" Seer had stepped in front of Adda to try to shield her from view, but ended up taking a punch to the nose, knocking him flat on his backside.

"I'm not a hooker." When the punch was thrown at Seer, Adda's charm and loose attitude was lost in an instant. Grabbing the man by crotch and throat, she drove Yusfar into the floor with a slam. Straddling him in his daze, she gripped him by the collar with her left hand, then wailed on him with her right fist. With ten solid, nose shattering punches she broke his nose, his jaw, and collapsed an eye shut. With the last punch, she shook the blood off, and felt his pulse. "Alive." Getting up, she grabbed him by his legs, and dragged him at the door. With a light kick she let him fall down the stairs to the tavern, and spat on his back as he wheezed a weak cry. "Prick." When she saw her co-workers both horrified and amazed, she shrugged it off. Seer was her concern. Gently patting his back, she smiled. "You ok?"

"Urgh..." Seer was dazed and bleeding heavily from his nose. He did not do very well when his senses were attacked. It was like the whole world shifted underneath his feet. "This is... the second time my nose is broken because of you." He said in a very dry, although slightly pained, voice.

"I'll make it up to you." Adda waved goodbye to her co-workers, picking Seer up bridal style and carrying him out. She even stepped on Yusfar to take him back to her lodging.

"You can put me down, you know, I can walk even though I can't see." Seer remarked in a sense of good humor.

"Naw. I think I like carrying you. Let's me flex my muscles." Adda finally got to the inn, smiling at the grounds keep. "Hey, can we bring men upstairs?"

"You're... not really supposed to." Ellie looked at Seer's bloody nose. "But I'll make an exception since he seems to be hurt. And blind." "I know. I can't see anything."

"I'm just going to patch him up." Adda took him to her room, setting Seer gently down on her bed. "How you feeling?"

"I feel like my nose is going to fall off, but considering I was just tossed around like a rag doll with that guy, a little embarrassed as well." Seer sighed. "I'm not very good at being a protector, am I?"

"Well, that's what I'm for." Adda twisted his nose in place with a nudge, getting a loud yelp from Seer. "Sorry."

Seer's blind eyes were watering from the pain, but he was trying to keep a straight face. "It really sucks not being able to see anymore."

"I'm sorry I can't do anything to fix that." Adda softly smoothed the side of his face, giving him a light kiss.

Even though the two of them had shared a bed before, Seer still blushed like a virgin. "Hrm... not sure if that really helped. Might need another one on this side too, just to be sure." He tapped the other cheek with a small grin.

Adda gave him a kiss on the other side. "You know, I'd love to have you stay the night, but I'm going to respect Saven’s rules."

"I understand." Seer felt around in his belt for his walking cane, unfolding it. "You'll be at work again tomorrow?"

"Yeah... Do you want me to come back to your place?"

"If you'd like." Seer then told her. "It's... not much. But it's cozy. I'm renting it for now. It's a house with rooms for all of us; Rat, Acrobat, and Bomba. Though, I believe they're all asleep now."

"Think we'd wake them up?"

"No, they have rooms on the top floor. I'm on the bottom." Seer chuckled. "Stairs and I do not get along well."

"Alright handsome. Let me check on the girls, then you can lead your knight in shining armour the way."

After making sure Liz and Lex were healthy and happy with some feeding, Adda followed Seer into his bedroom. Before he could really talk, she was already taking off his belt. "Can't suck on a bottle, but I can still suck on this~"

"W-Wait, wait, just a moment!" Seer was turning red once again in the face, gently grabbing Adda's hands. "I um... we don't have to do anything; I don't expect it. I mean... I'm just... well, surprised."

"Why? I like you. Do you just want to cuddle up naked or something? That's the slowest I can go."

"No! I mean, yes, I mean... damn it." Seer rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess what I'm trying to ask is... I'm just not sure I understand why you're interested in me."

"Because you're adorable, handsome... and kind. And I don't come from a world of kindness, so you're special to me." Adda slowly fumbled her fingers with his.

"I'm not adorable... am I?" Seer pouted lightly, thinking this meant he was too sweet or too weak one. Yet, it still did not scare Adda off yet. "I don't like being mean. I don't want to be mean unless I have to. I... initially thought you only bedded me because of pity, but... I couldn't stop thinking about how good you smelled. How soft you felt."

"I smell good?" That unique comment made Adda blush incredibly hard. "I'm... soft?"

"You smell like a touch of brimstone mixed with salt and lavender. It might just be your shampoo or your perfume with the lavender tent, but... the smell of salt, of sea salt, it's different. Not like the usual smell, but that of the ocean. It's comforting." Seer explained and then admitted. "Yes, soft. Not like you don't have muscle, but soft as in tender hearted it seems, when you want to be."

"I don't want to lose that smell." Adda pressed her head against his chest. "I feel comfortable with you Seer... truth be told, I'm scared to be. I don't want to be hurt again."

"I... don't want to hurt you." Seer carefully put his arms around Adda to hug her. "I know what it is like to be hurt. Physically, mentally, emotionally... take your pick. I don't wish it on someone else. You're safe here."

Adda hugged him back, not wanting to let go. "No one ever hugs me."

"Then just let me hold you for a minute."

Adda did so, trying not to cry. She just let him hold her for five minutes in silence. When he let go, Adda cleared her throat, trying to bring back her usual bravado, but instead only bringing back a quarter of it. "So stud, I was thinking about going on a sex bender, but, um, if you decide to stop bedding all the woman you obviously bring over every night, I'll do the same. That way, we can just be a couple with you as my boyfriend, and I'll be your girlfriend?"

"You know, you don't have to put on the face of bravado around me constantly, Adda." Seer chuckled softly, gently running his fingers through her hair. His calloused fingers were marked with several scars from accidently cutting or burning himself over the years. "I've... never had a romantic interest before, so I apologize in advance if I let you down. Though, if you want me to stay around, I won't object to your company."

"Tell you what, if you stay around long enough, I'll decide to drop my guard. A bit." With a grin, she kissed his cheek again. "Do you want to cuddle? Or do you want something more?"

"I'll leave that up to you." Seer told Adda. "It sounds like you had a long day and... you need a bit of comfort."

"Then just hold me naked?"

"Sure, but... do you need to check on the twins first?"

"Freddy has them on babysitting duty for the night. I think they'll be ok." Seer felt the warm press of her now naked body against him. She must have been very quiet in getting undressed. “I like how concerned you are about my girls.”

"If you're sure." Seer patted his bed. "Go ahead and get comfortable. I'll undress."

Outside, having happen stance to walk by, Scarlet was fangirling over the fact that Adda was warming up in a positive manner to Seer. Pulling Rat to the side to whisper her joy; her face was beaming. "Mousa! They're going to be a couple! They look so sweet together!"

"Me doesn't know what to think, Scarlet." Rat seemed a touch hesitant. Seer was a kind soul and he did not want his brother being a doormat for Adda. The ex-gladiator said, "As long as Seer is happy, and as long as Adda isn't mean to him, then I's content."

“Good. That’s all I can hope for. Mark my words. We’re all going to have happier lives.”

________________________________________________________________

New AU with @ridersoftheapocalypse! Comments are amazing to have!

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/633413002943758336/band-of-pirates-ch-2-game-plan

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/633791750679527424/band-of-pirates-ch-4-a-smiths-work

[amarscollyon]

@bunnydelphine Hi Belle. I've written a lot for you. I care about you & I aim to change the entire world. I hope you have the time to read it, or listen to the audio recording as it should make you happy & hopeful, & I need a little support to achieve the goal. Link to hear my voice here:

or carry on reading...

So like, erm, hi....I joined Twitter recently, a vague plan in mind. I conceived a dozen tweets to begin explaining, & then I got carried away. I posted in reverse order so you can read down from here...It is around 15 minutes long

#BelleDelphine

The whole load of them is basically for you Belle, & I hope it can make you smile, & feel good. There is good & bad in the world, & good & bad attention you will receive. This is intended, honed, & perfected, to make you happy, show you your worth to me & the future, & keep you safe as we move forward, & it's just the start...

The extra good part is - I ask nothing from you but the time to read it, & be happy, as your smile is worth more than the universe to me...I'd love nothing more than to know just once I was the cause of it creeping across your face, making you feel warm, & maybe even...blushing..

You're nothing but an absolute treasure, a joy without limit, & the most exquisite heart ache I could ever have wished for or imagined.

So, hello world. It is clear to me that there is too much pain on this planet & for it's denizens. It is just as clear that many innocent folk need change but no one really knows how. No one can begin. But I am a spiritual master & linked to spirits that have shown me a great deal is possible, & I can help guide us all towards a much happier, safer future.

Thing is, I am slightly premature here. Ok so, as stated, I am here to save the future. Obviously, I can't do it alone. It's really all about connections, as you would expect from someone who is working on behalf of the beyond. Life itself is about love, & it isn't about our ego, our personal goals, or desires. I do what I do for all of us. So it follows I can't just do it without some of you helping out in whatever way is possible.

I need money, laughably, in order to kill the finance system. Not as much as you'd guess, but I need a start...We cannot continue to use this invented resource as it is. In a purely mechanical sense it guarantees selfishness & greed end up controlling too much, whilst empathy, kindness & love, end up able to alter too little.

I intend to begin crowdfunding soon to raise startup capital, so a bit of publicity & presence is a big way you can help me easily.

I need advice & knowledge. Building a new way of self sufficient life will take an enormous amount of information & administration. In order to escape the system that dominates us & teaches us to abuse our own nature, we need to be free of restraint & able to produce all we need. Even making a list of all those things is no easy task, but it is quite possible to cover it all, with help.

I need connections.

Sooner or later I will post the plan with more details. But life & the path I walk through it, has it's detours I cannot always predict. I have learned to accept they always happen however, & always for a reason. When you achieve a certain level of connection to the beyond, & behave in natural ways, when your intent is to further the plan for all folk, then events in your life begin to happen just as you need them, synchronous moments that go way beyond coincidence & become miracles. One day I shall publish my journals from the last 7 years, as it shows my progress towards enlightenment, & explains how it is achieved. But this is one of many tasks & for now I have to begin travelling to find who & what I need, to found this community.

Riding the waves of intuition takes something too,

actually, 

I need your love.

My own huge heart does me well for me, no doubting it, yet it will only benefit with more care. 

It has to be real though, & of course everyone thinks they already know what love is,

but almost no one does.

So I may need help teaching everyone what it is.

I can show you, but you have to want to understand & have the courage to rise to it....Love is pretty scary...It isn't ever just about self, & it is the most amazing & transformative force there is.

I need to travel the world to meet people I need to meet, gain the knowledge & resources I need to found a community with a new way of living, turn desert into forest & work with nature to bring us all to greater joy. I will have to find some way to fund this travel too, & with my limitations & illness, the only way I can do it, is to make adult material. This means I need at least one willing partner, so if you aren't interested yourself, well, I am sure you have friends or followers who would be more than happy to help. With just one camgirl or entertainer, I can get the attention of the others. Don't get me wrong, I came to you Belle, because you don't just look nice, but you also move my heart & I was directed to discover you in ways I know from past experience are spirits showing me someone who is good, & also needs my help. But I am ready to accept it may not be what you want, yet I know if there is a good person there which is why I am drawn to you, then you will help in some way, directly or indirectly...

It will be a huge undertaking & will gather immense attention, so it can't hurt anyone's career, & I promise, I am good at what I do. As a shaman & spiritual teacher, sex is quite sacred to me, so you can be sure I can make it beneficial to my partner(s) & exciting & appealing to the audience. Done right, with enough courage to connect fully, it will bring whoever I am with a previously unknown level of calm, contentment, happiness & even mystical revelation. Of course, I will have plenty of people say I only do it for myself, but they're wrong, I was never one to seek casual interactions, it will be something new for me, but I do it because it is necessary & right.

Indeed, sex work is an essential part of modern life. It provides a valuable service to society, & receives too much criticism. The truth is that sex is divine & can be used to generate massive amounts of magical energy, & I honestly think the best thing for us all is to appreciate this. These are beautiful, amazing, special people. So many use their services. Yet they receive so much derision & scorn, & despite a reasonable wage, a lot of negative energy too, which can be harmful. So I want them to help me or work with me & prove to all just how special they can truly be, & thus I can help protect them.

So hey, that's the basics, good enough for now. I'll check in from time to time for dm's & responses here, & I'll be back one day to really kick this fucker off. I have to start getting a following by following others.

But so far I am following one account, which makes me look.... conspicuous? ....erm...yeah, I'm not saying anything about that for now...

The pinnacle of beauty itself can awaken us to the deepest & noblest of all loves.

It is actually quite common to be willing to die for someone you love, especially for men, (in extreme contrast to their also killing more of course.)

But something else entirely to be prepared to live, face all fears, conquer all obstacles & do what must be done.

Love alone can do this. Love alone can mean the person I was - is already dead & gone, & so now I can live to the fullest to provide the very best example of love I can. 

Love, 

true love, 

is a loss of self.

A death in a way.  

It is also a common wish to acquire a home for someone you love.

Again, knowing love deeper than most, it is quite another to recognize it is your sacred duty, to fix the entire messed up planet for those you love

& call it all,

home.

Safe, comforting, warm, & full of love.

If your love is true, then those you love deserve nothing less.

We all need it.

I find it so much easier to fight for it, for something I find such beauty in, because I recognize my heart & soul must be as pure & vibrant as I can make them, to be worthy of a beauty I find so truly

mind blowing

It is a duty, 

a chore, 

a sacrifice & more, 

to try to be worthy of what you find to be the highest point of love, inspired by something so beautiful, it takes your breath away

& kills you...

& to recognize that this true love means accepting that, 

unconditionally, 

I ask for nothing back that isn't in anyone to give.

Maybe one day it will be right to ask, 

"have you seen my heart & soul? They're unparalleled, because the love I felt looking at you is unparalleled, the beauty you possess has no equal, & so inspires me, demands of me to make my heart & soul as equally beautiful & unparalleled."

I cannot change my age,

or whether you like my physical properties much.

If you cannot love my heart & soul, then perhaps I cannot love you forever, as much as I desired... & I will suffer as I watch you suffer, for rejecting that purity which asks for nothing.

I am adored by the good in the beyond, so being unable to appreciate the good in my intangible properties would be nothing short of a curse.

If you simply cannot love my body, my more tangible properties, yet can love my heart,

well, that's ok, I would be happy my thoughts & deeds meant I could still wake up everyday 

& see 

your beautiful face,

& I'd be able to say, "I did this for you, & I have all I need. To bask in your presence, the warmth your images bring to me, is the most sublime peace & bliss I have ever known."

It is a chaotic whirlwind in my mind, I wont deny it,

yet always so controlled, & I know a mental peace I never thought I would, as a scared, anxious child.

Indeed nothing in life is wrong 

unless it is uncontrolled.

Thanks to you, my love, I can use the will & love I have to wipe out that which plagues humanity, & bring healing to so many.

The highest point to reach is truest purest love. For there is the inspiration to become gods, work wonders, & be the best thing you can be.

So. Not so conspicuous now. Let's make this super clear...

Mary-Belle Kirschner,

I love you with everything I have.

I want to make the world utterly safe for you, 

so you can be free to be whoever you wish to be

& love every possible moment living in it.

I have never in my life found anyone to be so alluring, inspiring, amazing, or motivating & you occupy my thoughts constantly. I do not ask you to do anything except be aware of this care, & accept I do this because you are so wonderful to me, & reach out now, like this, so you know you're worth the world.

I just want you to know how by being who & what you are, you are so special to me, that I can become what is needed to keep you that way.  This is all I need to keep me fueled to face the immense challenge it will be. I am here to save the future from the selfish inconsiderate apathy of most, & the deliberate control of an evil few, & I can do so because you are one of the few things I can say makes life truly worth living. 

Just seeing your smile shatters my heart into a billion pieces, & nothing matters more to me than making sure you are aware of how valuable I find you, so you can stay happy.

My reward is that from now on I get to see every part of you & your journey that you choose to share with me.

My reward is knowing you will not only be there for me to visually enjoy (& melt into bliss each time, 

oh how I wish I had words to help you feel how wonderful you make me feel just looking at you,)

My reward is knowing I've done the right thing,

but also knowing that you know, that simply by being, you made my world shine so brightly, that I achieved something wonderful,

maybe just like every hero you ever dreamed of

saving the future

& the princess?

& I can ask for nothing more than to be allowed to share whatever you desire to allow me to share.

To know you are free to be yourself, I can know unending utter rapture in admiring it

& I wont forget the understanding it brings that

I exist,

to love,

I exist,

to reduce pain & create greater joy,

& I brought it to you as best as any man ever could

with devotion unmatched

& asked for nothing but recognition & thanks.

I can not be a better role model for other people.

I cannot be a better lover & healer to the world.

I cannot be more than ultimate love!

& if you cannot love in return, well it would hurt you, 

so I'd find some way to make sure. Being the true will I am, means the true anyone else WOULD love me, so it would just come down to repairing any damage the world has already done to you.

Undoing anything that has taken you away from your true nature.

But I'd never ask for that love to give me anything it doesn't want to.

Love means your will is yours, not mine to coerce or demand or dominate...

Could it be the love story you were waiting for? 

Could it be you wish to save the future with me? 

Could it make the world weep & push things in place for everyone better than trying to scurry & hide like illegal aliens?

Whatever you answer, it can only gain momentum to aid my goal, & bring you to happiness. The love I have for you, however you receive it, can be used to make the world weep, & in so doing, wash away much sadness, & let happiness spring fresh once more in the sunshine.

Come. If you will, in spirit, take my hand.

For I am Apollo made flesh, since I merged with him in prayer in 2018.

My tarot told me you are my Pythia, I mean my first reading about you showed me that card & I then realized - that's why you picked that name, isn't it? You have that bust & Delphi is rather similar to Delphine...So, you are my oracle then? We should certainly meet if that's the case!

I already went to the Labyrinth as a child. I also swam in the pool near Pamukkale, not far from a temple to Apollo. Those are just a few of many more salient points. There is no doubt here, I know who I am & what I experienced.

Belle, I am a guide, a teacher, a healer, a lover, & I can be with anyone & help them in many ways. I am able to love all people, literally, all, but there are some I am drawn to with such intensity. My own desire is strong for you, without doubt, but I do not pursue anything for merely my own gain. You are truly so special to me, I am reiterating I ask only that you find your true heart & be who you wish to be, but I am sure that you are a wonderful person & would want to help make the world better for us all. I'm sure you can find a bit of time to interact with me here, & this alone would aid me immensely.

The kind of love I have, I sacrificed much to be able to give, & it is here to help us all, it cannot harm you

nor ask for more than you are prepared to give.

I'd do anything you asked,

as long as it wasn't evil,

but I'll never ask anything from you besides considering my advice,

as it's rooted in placing your needs before my own,

in agapic sacrifice of self,

to bring you anything you could ask for to know joy in life

However - you should always ultimately make your own choices, & not bend to others desire unless it is also your own.

You said you were lost....well, I have found you!

You asked to be adopted...I wont ever let you go unless you want me to...consider yourself adopted...

I'm also a really decent cook, & you need to eat better!!

Mary-Belle, you are truly amazing, wonderful, & beyond compare. Loving you these last few weeks since I discovered your existence, has been the most awesome & humbling series of miracles & unimaginable happiness for me.

I want you to know that & to feel it too.

It is beautiful, how you make me feel. Nothing compares. Nothing comes close. I wish you could let me help you feel it too.

Notice me senpai? I bloody noticed you! I hope you notice me back.

I said at the start, I'd need help saving the future, help teaching everyone what love is

Belle, even if you don't want to be with me, I hope you can interact with me & appreciate this devotion. For the world can benefit, as can you, whether you come to me, or on me, or not...

It would certainly help shut up those moronic critics inspired to spiteful jealousy by your magnificent gorgeousness. Folk who go through life criticizing others, do so because they have so little to offer anyone, & it is all they can do. I want to help you show them just how much you can do & make their lack so apparent they finally grow up. It all aids the future, the development of every person we can.

Regardless, I hope it makes you feel good, to mean so much to someone, who is one of the best people there is.

I'm sure that could sound arrogant, but you will find out if you simply give me time...

I wish you a really lovely day

my love & blessings,

always

muah...

[blackcatanna]

Tales of the Reluctant Kazama Bitch Part 2: Edo Blossoms!

We left our would-be heroine galloping across the country, desperately clinging to the man who's repeatedly threatened to kidnap and impregnate her. However, all of this ickyness is forgotten in the face of a greater threat: her creepy brother and stepdad, who want to turn everyone into shitty vampires.

Chapter 1:

*Sadly scrolls past superior men to get to Kazama's portrait* :'(

If this route contains plenty of free Sen and Kimigiku, I will be less mad at it.

Wait, when you say, "abandon our horse" you are gonna come back for it, right?! RIGHT?!!? O_O

A deserted house, huh? Seems like a great place to have a nap and totally not get murdered by the spirits of the restless undead.

And, of course, Kazama just HAS to take a minute to be a bougie bitch, "Hmph. I would sooner call this a hut than a house."

"Just shut up, and sit tight." Classic Kazama.

Kazama going on about "The destructive force of humans" again -_- Pot kettle black. Bitch.

Wow, the Yukimura clan helped Tokugawa Ieyasu "usurp control of the country with military force." In my head, this takes place in the same universe as the Samurai Warriors series X_X

"You take me for some boorish creep, don't you?" Yes.

"I shall not lay a finger upon you until our marriage is finalized." That's great, provided that I get a say in whether or not we get married!

Amagiri is being helpful and practical and Kazama is just being extremely rude, stubborn and idiotic. X_X

"You'd better not bitch at all, got it?" Um, Kazama, you're the one who bitches about everything. Not me.

"The thought of Kazama rescuing me stood at odds with the initial impression I'd had of him as a crude, sadistic warrior who hated the Shinsengumi." Um, why can't he be all of those things? Just because he's a dick doesn't mean that he's going to let his precious brood mare fall off a cliff!

HAND HOLDING ALERT! THE ORGASMETER IS GOING WILD!!! PHYSICAL CONTACT INITIATED!

Hold up, female demons all have the same stamina as normal humans but males get superhuman endurance?! This is so unfair! -_-

Chapter 2:

Guess I'll never see my beloved Shinsen-gummies again :'(

Here goes Kazama again, shitting on the Shinsengumi for risking their lives because he can't comprehend the idea of anything being worth risking his own precious life.

"Kazama dismissed the Shinsengumi to a degree that I could only describe as willful ignorance." YES GIRL. GET HIM. "I had never met anyone so incapable of empathy." Most sociopaths find it advantageous to at least pretend to empathise with people. I guess when you're an all-powerful demon price, such precautions are needless.

Ooh! Can I please stay at the Shinsengumi's headquarters!

OH SO NOW MY OPINIONS ARE ASININE?!??!!! I THOUGHT THAT THIS HO AGREED WITH ME THAT FURIES ARE BAD!?

Wait, so now I don't want Kazama to kill my family of creeps? Y tho? I love my family but I still wouldn't let them commit stupid genocide. I guess she really believes that she can reason with them. We'll see how that works out.

I am enjoying this slice of Kodo backstory to hammer home how far he has fallen.

FOR FUCK'S SAKE!!! SO, IN THIS ROUTE, KAZAMA HATES HIM SO HE CAN'T PIMP ME OUT TO KAZAMA SO HE WANTS ME TO "MATE WITH" THE FURIES INSTEAD!??!? WTF!?!!

"Bitter, senile idiot" For once, Kazama is right.

Did Kodo just throw me at Kazama?! Stepdad of the year.

"Perhaps I'm being forward, but I see in you the virtues befitting the leader of the Yukimura clan." Stop, stop. My penis can only get so erect.

"You will feel better watching me peel the flesh from their bones with the swing of my sword." O_O Is this Game of Thrones now? Uh, thanks, I guess, for those words of, uh? Comfort?! What girl doesn't want to watch a guy dismember her family!?

Awe, tiny Chizuru's village burning memory :'( My heart! :'(

Shiranui "plopping" himself on the floor is a big mood :')

Nooo! The Shogunate is feeding the Shinsengumi to the furies?! :'(

Spider Kaoru being weird and creepy (literally) as usual.

Ugh, I thought we'd agreed to murder the fam?

Ooh! This house has pretty wallpaper!

Why couldn't Kaoru just live with me and Kodo for all those years?! Did Kodo just hand him over to those abusive fucks because he couldn't be bothered to raise a child who didn't have a precious vagina?

I love the scuttling sound that the minions make when they assemble! :')

Turns out, even Amagiri can't punch a fury to death X_X

DING DONG THE BITCH IS DEAD. Kodo just went so, so evil o_e

I've stopped listening to Kazama whenever he goes off on one of his rants about how all humans suck and are to blame for all of our problems -_-

When the nice music started playing, I expect to see someone I actually liked but it was just Kazama in a new outfit.

CALM DOWN, YOU THIRSTY WENCH! IT'S JUST A NEW OUTFIT X_X

"Quit wallowing in your self-pity for once." Wisdom?! From Kazama?!

"Do you remember the Shinsengumi captain named 'Harada'?" O_O Yes. What happened to him?! IS HE OKAY?!?? DID YOU KILL HIM!!!?!!!!?

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO :'( :'( :'( </3

And so it begins. Hanging out with these fuckers while watching everyone I love die from afar </3

Awe, Shiranui and Harada became buddies <3 and now Shiranui blames his bad luck for Harada's death. :'( It's not your fault, Shiranui D'X

Kazama: "No time for tears." BEGONE, THOT. :'(

Chapter 3:

Bad news, huh? Bad news for me or for you, Kazama? >:(

*Winces in anticipation of more dead Shinsengumi members*

RIP Kondou. You were too wholesome for this cruel world :'(

Welp, looks like I'm chasing my beloved ho's across the country :D

Oh, Kazama thinks that I'm joking about trying to reunite with my long lost friends. You don't KNOOOW me!

"Harada, who was ripped to shreds at Ueno. No one's patting him on the back for dying like a wounded animal." LET ME AT THIS EVIL CUNT!!! HOW DARE HE!!! I JUST WANT TO SEE MY FRIENDS AGAIN!!!! DO YOU NOT POSSESS AN OUNCE OF RESPECT, OR TACT, AT THE VERY LEAST!?!!?

"All they'll ever be is a footnote in the annals of history. Their legacy is being spat on." "Kazama made a lot of sense." BITCH WHERE!!!????!

"I knew women were whimsied by delusion, but you are sitting at the top of the pile." -_- Are all demons this sexist?! I don't think I want to hang out with other demons anymore.

"You should go after him." Amagiri, why?! -_- I don't wanna! Let him stew in his own miserable juices.

He looks like a disgruntled cat.

OH, BITCH EXPECTED ME TO FOLLOW HIM. I should never have listened to Amagiri. He has no eyebrows.

We're in my burned out village, aren't we? :'(

OMG KAORU'S DEAD BODY IS RIGHT THERE O_O

"Why are you crying?" REALLY?!???!

This is v sad :'(

OH CAN YOU SHUT UP ABOUT HOW THE HUMANS ARE TO BLAME FOR EVERYTHING FOR FIVE MINUTES WHILE WE BURY MY BROTHER, WHOM YOU LITERALLY MURDERED. IF YOUR SO POWERFUL, WHY CAN YOU ONLY KILL?! YOU ONLY SAVED ME FOR YOUR OWN DISGUSTING PURPOSES. IF YOU TRULY SAW KAORU'S POTENTIAL TO BE A FINE LEADER, WHY WERE YOU SO QUICK TO KILL HIM?!? HUH!??! D'X

"He died just as he lived--alone" :'(

Kodo absolutely needed a good killing but I believe that Kaoru was redeemable. :'(

WHY ARE YOU ASKING HIS PERMISSION TO REMEMBER YOUR FAMILY THE WAY YOU CHOOSE!?!

"It was never my intention to reveal the history of the Yukimura clan to you." BITCH, WHO ARE YOU TO DENY ME THE HISTORY OF MY OWN CLAN?! >:(

"Impatience is unbecoming" Oh no, heaven forbid you lose interest in me! Not that that would ever happen to this thirsty whore.

"Obedience is a good look on you. You are well on your way to becoming the ideal life." LISTEN HERE YOU SMUG PRICK!!!!!! I WILL DIE BEFORE I EVEN CONSIDER THAT REVOLTING POSSIBILITY!!!!

Here we go, time for an orgy of sadness, courtesy of Amagiri! :(

"Okita has passed away from illness." Not surprising but very, very sad :'( Poor Okita, slowly wasting away while his world falls apart around him </3

Saito's MIA, which doesn't look good but, historically, he was fine so I can handle that, I guess O_O If he is confirmed dead later, imma be real mad. AND SAD. D'X

Nagakura is also MIA?! Big sad </3 I bet that Kazama is secretly loving this >:(

HEISUKE AND SANAN ARE FULLY DEAD!!?? D'X NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO This is too much sad. FFS, KAZAMA, YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME SEE MY FRIENDS BEFORE THEY WERE ALL KILLED, YOU HEARTLESS WENCH! WAS YOUR PLAN ALL ALONG TO JUST WAIT UNTIL EVERYONE I CARED ABOUT WAD DEAD SO THAT I'D HAVE TO CLING TO YOU!?

"What about the others?" WHAT OTHERS?! Hijikata, Souma, Nomura? Is that it?! My family is DEAD, my friends are DEAD. Kazama doesn't see that as a problem because my fertile body is still intact but MY HEART IS BROKEN D"X

"That little dog's still got some bite, eh?" SHUT UP, JUST SHUT UP.

"Everyone's still putting up a fight, huh" Well, not everyone. Most people are dead but, uh, good on you for seeing this as a glass half full...

Ugh, why does Kazama have to come with me to Ezo?

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME STRIKES AGAIN.

Aaaawwweee Shiranui brought me Harada's spear D'X

Shiranui is so much better and kinder than Kazama :'(

HOW CAN KAZAMA GO THROUGH LIFE BEING SUCH A CUNT AND SCOFFING AT EVERYONE'S SINCERE BELIEFS. No wonder even his allies hate him.

Shiranui, stop with the kind, heartfelt words! You're making me cry D'X

"Shiranui was nowhere near as bad as Kazama" Truth.

"Isn't this just another worm you've let crawl into your insipid heart?" Wow, this route is actually making me like Kazama LESS.

Sendai is pretty.

WE MISSED THEM AGAIN?!!? NOW I'M STUCK ALONE WITH THIS ASSHOLE AGAIN!?!?

Wow, this CG is telling. Chizuru crying against Kazama's turned back.

Chapter 4:

Well, at least I get to stay in a mansion while I cry over my dead friends and family.

Omg, I'm basically Kazama's housewife X_X

Kazama's in a bad mood, huh? Did Hijikata die before Kazama could fulfill his promise to me? Useless man.

OMG, HE REALLY HAS MADE ME HIS WENCH!!! NO!!! DON'T FETCH HIM THE SAKE!!!!

"Fetch me a bottle at once." "I'm only going to grab you one, okay...? Drinking too much isn't good for your health." I'M DEFINITELY HIS WIFE!!! HELP!!!! HIW CAN I WAKE FROM THIS NIGHTMARE??!!

"Sake is more of a medicine than a poison, and as you've noticed, I'm ill. Make it three bottles." Aaaand my husband's an alcoholic X_X

"Hey, don't take your frustrations out on me. Also, it's only a 'medicine' when you drink in moderation--not when you're piss drunk." Yaass Chizuru! You tell that edgy thot!

"Humility is a more attractive colour on you. From now on, feel free to humble yourself by complimenting me however much you deem fit." That would be never. I cannot with This Bitch. Eat shit and die, Kazama.

Okay, now things are really sad. Still chasing my friends as they fight against all the odds D'X

Aaaaaah, the tension is killing me! This is going to be horrible D'X

SHIMADA AND SOUMA ARE ALIVE!!!

"I'm going to kill each and every one of you impotent bastards until there's none left. See you in Hell!" :') I've missed Hijikata!

WHY AM I CHASTISING SOUMA FOR STANDING UP FOR HIMSELF AGAINST KAZAMA!?

Oh great, now we're hunting for Hijikata's corpse. SADNESS INTENSIFIES.

"What about you, girl...?" First of all, SHUT THE FUCK UP. Secondly, the way he addressed me reminds me of my brother XD

ER MAH GERD!!! HE IZ KISSING MEH!!! O_O

"Although I'd wanted to scream, I couldn't." O_e Tha fuck?!?

WITH TONGUE!!!

Final Chapter:

Please let me not be married to Kazama X_X

"I was alone" Good start.

"This incessant urge to clean" Can't relate.

"Sadly, my father passed away." XD

Yaaaas become a doctor! You don't need no man!

However, tell me more about this cute medicine clerk ;)

Speak of the demon X_X

When you get sick of kindly old ladies telling you to find a man so you settle for some dickhead edgelord X_X

"He was his usual, callous self." Husband material X_X

Wait, I've been all alone all this time?! What about Sen?!? Why can I not have friends? :'(

"I've come to claim you." BITCH, I AM A STRONG INDEPENDENT (BUT VERY SAD AND LONELY) WOMAN!

"I will tolerate no resistance" O_O

"Kazama might have been a pain, but he was my pain" Uh, okay XD

So, I guess I do marry Kazama purely because he's the only person left alive who knows what I went through X_X . At least Chizuru developed... Not a backbone but... Almost a backbone. Maybe X_X I'm sure that Chizuru will make a lovely stepford wife but that make me kind of sad -_-

[7deadlycinderellas]

If the summer of lives could just come again, ch 15

Ao3 link

Over the Wall

Jon would have never believed he would miss Ygritte busting his chops. Ever since they’d reached the cave she had been nearly sedate. If he hadn’t seen her receive her wound, he would think the blow to the head had been much more severe than he had thought.

The cave is safe, and warm enough (but not really warm at all). Jyna manages to get a small fire going at the mouth. Rowan finds them food (as much as that green moss could be considered food). And they all spend a few days recovering from their journey.

The first night, over their meager meal, Gilly sits by his side, feeding her son, and he finally asks her how the all of them ended up with Rowan at all.

“Did anyone tell you about us? Any of the crows?”

Jon shakes his head. He’d overheard a bit about what they called Craster’s Keep, but didn’t really understand what it was.

Gilly takes a deep breath, and launches into her story. About her father’s...peculiarities. The sharp intake of Jon’s breath brings a flush of something over Gilly’s face that he can’t quite identify, but she doesn’t stop her story. She tells him about her most recent pregnancy, and about what Craster would do to her child if he were born a boy.

“I couldn’t let that happen. So when I could stand again, I grabbed him and staggered out into the forest.”

She had hidden, still bleeding and exhausted, for three days. After those three days, she had found one of Rowan’s caves, and found herself face to face with a creature she had only heard of in stories.

“I told her what my father would do to my child. And she took my hand and asked if I was willing to help her. That if I did, it would not only protect my babe, but thousands of others as well.”

She spoke of Rowan leading her back to her home in the dead of night, giving her a poultice of herbs similar to the one they’d used on Jon and Ygritte to use on her father, and helped her wake and lead her sisters from the shack.

It hadn’t been hard, she said. Though none of them had ever had the bravery to flee before, they had all hoped somehow she would make it away.

And with their father in a drugged stupor, all of them had lit fire to the keep. Nearly everything in it was wood, aged and dry. Rowan had provided the spark, from the strange sort of orb she’d conjured, and in the dry wintery wind, it had gone up in seconds.

Her story takes most of the night, but it’s not like theirs much else to do. All they seem to have now is time.

And in that time, Jon finally finds the time to ask Rowan some of the dozens of questions that have spent the past year  

“What is this place?” is the first.

“This cave used to be known as the cave of the three-eyed Raven,”

Jon flinches at the memory of what his sisters had once called Bran. His eyes follow Rowan’s gaze, which lands on a spot on the inside wall that is littered with twisted tree roots.

“It was once the home of the last remaining alive of my people. Now it’s just me, and now it’s just a cave. But it also holds the last bits of our magic and culture. And our last hope.”

Rowan had gazed out the opening of the cave, over the hillside.

“Even the weirwood above is merely one of our wards, the last things to protect this place.”

Her eyes suddenly take on a deep, faraway sadness. It’s like the one Jon once saw on his own sisters’ faces, but heavier, more lasting.

“The last greenseer once led your cousin, Brandon Stark, here, in the hopes of passing on his skill and knowledge, in the hope that it would be enough to stop the rise of the Night King.”

“It wasn’t enough?” Jon asks, with a note of darkness to his voice.

Rowan shakes her head.

“It was never enough. Brandon Stark was a child, ill-prepared. Brynden Rivers was human once, but he hadn’t been human in a long time, and I believe he had truly forgotten what it meant.”

That fits perfectly with the what the girls had said had happened to Bran. They had seemed very disturbed to speak of it.

“Brynden Rivers’ powers gave him an entire view of humanity, of it’s past and present, but sometimes it’s future as well. I don’t feel that all of that was necessary.”

“If you…” Jon cuts himself off, “If you don’t think that needed to happen, then why am I here?” Rowan waits a time before answering.

“As a child of the forest, I have certain abilities that protected me. As the rest of my people died around me, I slunk off and hid. This is just one cave, but the deeper you go, you will find more and more. All of this land, in fact, beyond the wall, is connected. I can cross the frozen landscape without ever seeing the sun. And so, while my people were slaughtered, I hid.”

Her eyes bear witness to her shame. Jon can only imagine, having everyone you knew, everyone you loved, wiped out so wholly. To truly be the last of your race. She should be proud, he muses, to have survived, to still be alive, but it must be so lonely.

“After what happened, I began practicing, stretching what magic I knew I could still use. It’s not much in the grand scheme of things, but I had a few tricks left. So I built a plan, something that I thought might give you all a second chance.

The children of the forest aren’t bound by time like humans. Sometimes we live very long lives, lives that you would call generations. And in my life, I learned to pull the land back with me. So I used that, I pulled it back. I pulled it back far enough that humanity would have a chance.”

“But..but if you just pulled the land back, how come it’s not just you who remembers? Why do my siblings too?”

He won’t call them his cousins. Though they may be what they are, it’s not what they are to him.

“Jon Snow, have you ever pulled a piece of fabric? Have you ever pulled it as far as it would pull? What happens?”

Jon tries to picture her words. He imagines a piece of clothing stretched too long, pulled desperately onto someone it no longer fits.

“It tears.”

Rowan nods.

“What I did took a toll. The magic we have is deeply tied to the land of this world. And bits that are the closest to the old world- such as the swamps you call the Neck, and for that matter, even this cave too- took the brunt, and when I pulled, holes formed. And where there is a hole, things can travel through.”

Jon is silent for a time, trying to wrap his head around her words. While he mostly feels like a gaping fish, he notes that Rowan’s gaze has moved to where Ygritte sits, silently.

“What about her?”

Rowan frowns, her ears drooping.

“Like I said, my magics are not great, and I cannot speak to all of the effects it might have. Perhaps it had something to do with her wound, perhaps it was because she came into contact with where the weirwood stood. Perhaps it was even a side effect of the wards on this place. “

She nods in her Ygritte’s direction when she stirs.

“But if you want to hear her story, I suggest that you ask her.”

Later in the evening, when the fire begins to burn down to embers, Jon takes Rowan’s advice. He sits beside her and offers her a bowl of that awful green moss. She takes it without a word. He doesn’t even have to prompt her.

“You said you would never betray me, and you left. And I swore I would kill you. And I tried, and I couldn’t. We stared at each other, but couldn’t kill each other. So some little fucker came and did it for you.”

Jon silently dwells on her words. She reaches and takes his hand, with surprising tenderness. There’s no mockery in her words.

“If they hadn’t taken us, we’d have gone back to Mance Ryder’s camp, halfway on the way there.”

“We aren’t though,” Jon insists, “We’re here.”

Ygritte raises an eyebrow in Rowan’s direction.

“Has she told you why we’re here?”

“A bit.”

“Has she told you why you?”

Rowan had used words, big words, about Jon. Those words had been on the way here, and have seemed to nearly disappear now that they’ve arrived.

“No, but I’ll ask her. She said we’ll start tomorrow, start with whatever it is she wants to teach me.”

Ygritte rubs her thumb along his hand.

“It better not be because you’re pretty. Because I still saw you first.”

 Winterfell

Autumn has turned starkly cold. The streams in the wolfswood have begun to freeze.

Arya returns home after the start of the year. She returns with many things. Names of wildlings within the walls who seem to have influence over the others (Tormund is among them, she had discovered. While she is sad he won’t recognize her, she knew he was never a kneeler). Names of guards who probably should be reassigned (She’d given them to the warden before leaving, with a few sickening details). And a dozen or more stories of death at the hands of the wights.

And a desperate desire to wear her own face again.

It was strange really, she’d never felt very possessive of her own face. She never thought it was all that great. But after months of wearing the face of a man twice her age who apparently liked to pick fights, she just wants to be Arya Horseface again.

“Did we ever get word from Davos?” she asks anxiously once she’s   greeted, and settled with everyone back at Winterfell. There’s venison for supper, and she gobbles it down. It tastes amazing after weeks of jerky and foraging.

Robb nods solemnly, and Arya is suddenly apprehensive at his answer.

“When he and Osha made it to Castle Black, the mutiny had already tipped off. Jeor Mormont is dead, and Alliser Thorne has taken control. They wouldn’t listen to a word Davos tried to tell them. “

“I sent Una after you left to find them.” Bran interjects, “Davos sent word to his second eldest son, and he set sail North. They’re trying to evacuate those they can south via sea.”

Arya is alarmed.

“The Watch at Eastwatch-by-the-sea patrols the sea looking for wildlings trying to sail south!”

“And Davos was a smuggler.” Robb tells her, “If anyone can evade the sea patrols, it would be him. And besides, Father always said the East Watch was a bit more lax than the others.”

She tells him of the talk she heard from the men and women within the Dreadfort. They’d taken to calling Robb the Young Wolf. And even though they still spat at calling him a king (which he wasn’t, she reminded some of them a few times) they at least seemed accepting that he wanted to stop the dead as much as they did.

“They may not have kings over the wall,” Arya tells him, “But they pick who will lead them, and they feel they know a good leader when they see one.”

“That still feels like a compliment I don’t deserve.”

Arya smiles and shakes her head, “Can you imagine them meeting King Robert?”

There’s laughter all around.

After supper finishes, she leaves to the forge to have a proper reunion with Gendry. Despite Meera’s best efforts, she told Arya he was still skipping meals.

He’s alone, and so when she sees him, obviously the best course of action is to tackle him. He’s off guard enough that she still can. She’s near all grown now, her head reaching his chin, and she doesn’t want him getting cocky.

When his back hits the floor, she rests her elbows on his chest and props herself up on them.

“Miss me?”

His eyes are tender despite the sting of his back hitting the floor. His lazily throws an arm across her back.

“More than you could imagine.”

After a bit, during which she sneaks back to the Great Hall and brings him some proper food, she asks him how everyone else has been holding up.

“Bran’s raven got back from Essos two moons ago. She made it fine, but he can’t navigate the land easily because he doesn’t know it. Him and Jojen keep pouring over books trying to figure it out. “

Arya nods, “I can help him with Braavos, but beyond that I’m no more use.”

“Rickon’s been spending nearly all his time with the wildling children. You’d think he was one.”

“That’s nothing new”

“He did manage to lodge an arrow all the way to the top of one of the ramparts the other day.”

“Oh, I’m almost sad I missed that.”

“Meera and I spent a long time trying to figure out how to get it down, but when everyone left, she just climbed up and pulled it down herself.”

“She doesn’t like climbing in front of Bran, she thinks it makes him feel bad.”

“I also heard Johnna and Willa arguing the other day about which of them gets to steal him.”

Oh, that might be a much bigger problem.

“Don’t they know….”

Gendry nods grimly.

“Right after you left, one of the wildlings working down in town tried to steal one of the kitchen girls. It ended with him with a broken jaw and one of the men who intervened losing a hand. “

At least no one had died. When Arya had left, she had thought that most of the women in Winterfell were cautious of the wildlings because of the stories of their cultural rituals.

“Robb made it terribly clear that we do not steal brides in this land, but I fear the girls might have just assumed that meant we stole husbands instead.”

This was going to be a fun one to undo. Both of the girls like Arya, so she might be able to break it to them.

“Also, you’re mother’s been giving me talking-tos lately. You should go spend some time with her.”

He doesn’t tell her that Lady Catelyn had pretty much tipped him over and shaken him loose as soon as Arya wasn’t near.

She had interrogated him as to near everything; his prospects, his dreams, his name.

“I like my work well enough. I could see spending my life doing it.”

“I understand you’ve learned yourself to be of royal blood, baseborn or not. Haven’t you ever thought of pursuing anything higher?”

Gendry grimaces. His younger self would have wanted nothing more. To have a name, a stake. To have something to offer. To show the world he was more than a bastard.

“I used to, but anymore...I have a skill, a skill I am good at. Your daughter doesn’t need me to have a name, she has one, one she’s terribly proud of. She knows her worth, and I know mine.”

Catelyn had studied his face, and found no dishonesty in his words. She can’t admit it out loud, she even scarcely can to herself, that she’s seeking in Gendry the same ambition she so feared in Jon. But she finds none.

She tries to keep this in mind in the following moons after her younger daughter returns home.

They are going over the paperwork together again.

“Food’s going to be a problem,” Arya comments, “We’ve been setting aside plenty, but with the influx of new people everything’s going to be stretched tight.”

“We may have to import, from the Reach likely, or perhaps Dorne. Your sister’s friendship with Princess Myrcella may curry us some favor.”

It seems ridiculous, Arya thinks, that something as necessary as food stores was put aside as ‘women’s work’.

There’s a bit of silence, before Catelyn asks her daughter.

“I suppose you’re approaching the age at which you married before.”

“Not quite yet, I think I was eighteen by then, I definitely wasn’t any younger than seventeen.”

“Well it is nearly four months passed your fifteenth name day. You were gone then.”

Arya suddenly pays attention to her mother’s tone.

“I had a cloak made for you then, but I can wait to give it to you.”

Arya had a creeping feeling she knows where this conversation is going.

“Mother, that’s redundant. We married properly before, in the Godswood. Ser Davos was there…”

“And no one else was.” Catelyn says, “And despite what you say, people will talk if you don’t follow certain customs...“

As if Arya had ever cared about other people talking, and their customs. Then again,

“...And none of us got to be there the first time.”

Catelyn reaches out and rubs Arya on the shoulders.

“You’re my daughter. I’d like to see you wed.”

She sighs deeply. She can’t fight her on that.

“It doesn’t have to be fancy, it can just be family. We’ll do it before the end of the year, the day of the last harvest feast. “

The last harvest feast hangs over the year. It gets dark earlier and earlier in the day, and on even the clear days the wind howls through the trees. The streams are frozen and the snow heavy, and the woods have gone quiet. Arya and Meera sometimes join the men on their hunting parties, but every time they return to Winterfell more and more empty handed. Winter might as well be already here.

Everyone trains more. Arya had begun insisting that Robb let her practice with her sword with both him and Theon. The dead will not go easy on them. The weapons stock hold grows. More and more wildlings trickle in, and must be accommodated.

At least, she thinks, once her and Gendry are married properly and will actually be expected to share a bed, there will be one more room to go around.

“It won’t be so bad,” Gendry muses when the morning comes, “At least you’ll have proper family here this time.”

“You just say that because you’re glad the Hound isn’t here.”

“Well he did find reason to call me a twat every other sentence.”

‘That doesn’t make you special. He called everyone a twat.”

Arya’s wearing the blue dress Sansa made her all those years ago. It fits like a glove now.

“Sansa’s going to kill me. She was mad enough she missed it the first time.”

And Father too, she thinks.

Everyone else in the household is bustling about with preparations for the harvest feast. The buck the hunters had returned with two days prior is being roasted, and everyone else runs to and fro with other foods, and furniture and all the other necessities, to notice the small group approaching the sept.

Meera’s the one who approaches with her cloak. It’s her old one, too short and worn. It will do for her maiden cloak. Meera’s also wearing the dress Sansa started for her all that time ago.

“Mother finished it? It looks nice.”

Meera fusses with the skirt.

“I guess it was too much to hope it was forgotten. I don’t know how to sit down in it.”

Arya laughs.

“You can kind of tuck it under. Be glad it doesn’t need a petticoat, I still never figured out how to manage those.”

They walk into the sept side by side. Arya pulls at her own sleeves.

“Sansa was so close about my size. I can’t believe it. Yours looks like it fits perfect too.”

“I was basically already grown when we left home. I guess anyway, that’s what people say. I don’t feel grown.”

“Neither do I, “ Arya adds, glancing inside the sept, where the old Septon stands, having arrived from the village that morning. Her siblings and mother have lined up, and Gendry stands at the front. Despite everything, her heart still skips a beat. She’s about to marry, a second time, but inside she still feels like a girl half the time.

The candles are lit, and the seven prayers said, and the seven blessings. Robb removes her cloak, and Gendry wraps her in the new one her mother made, thick and lined with fur.

The septon wraps their hands in the cloth, and they say the words and kiss, and everyone claps.

Five seconds later, Arya asks, “So can we all go eat now?”

Mother has respected her wishes to keep things quiet. The feast goes on as usual. There’s venison and pies and all sorts of food. This will be the last time of true abundance before winter sets in.

Robb teases her at one point over a tray of buttered carrots.

“You’re just happy to have escaped all the ceremony a marriage usually entails.”

“Exactly,” she tells him, “No fuss, no fancy gown, no bedding ceremony for me.”

“You know that once the word gets out, most of the household will assume you’re already with child.”

Arya winces, and says rather forcefully,

“No. I’m not doing that. No children for me, at least until this is all over.”

Her voice thins, at the idea of a babe born during the long night.

“If she’s scared of one of us having a bastard, it’s not going to be me.”

Their interrupted by Gendry standing up, and reaching for her hand.

“Well, it seems I am at least being forced to dance at my wedding,” she tells Robb when Gendry pulls her to her feet.

Bran sits on the edge of the dancefloor, watching everyone. Robb’s being passed around to what must be each woman in the village. Rickon is being pulled on each arm by Johnna and Willa. Even Jojen’s been pulled out, by the kennel master’s youngest daughter.

He was never one much for dancing, but it would be a lie to say he doesn’t feel like he’s missing out. Only mother sits at the head of the high table, alone.

“Not much for dancing myself,” Meera tells him when she approaches, handing him a cup of cider. It warms him, but doesn’t make his head as fuzzy as ale or wine.

“I saw the white raven pass King’s Landing today,” he tells her. Suxn had been returning with a letter from Sansa, “Winter’s weeks away.”

“I guess this will be the last celebration for a while.”

The silence between them is bordering on melancholy. After a long moment, Bran asks her,

“Want to get out of here?”

They end up back in the glass gardens again, though it’s a long walk by the back of the keep. It’s neither the first nor the last time. It’s functioned much like the Godswood in the last life, but Bran lacks the three-eyed-Raven’s resistance to the cold. They both sit on the ground to the front, slowly. Meera mutters softly that her dress is taking up too much space.

“It’s too close,” Meera admits, “I hate the idea of seeing one of those blue eyed fuckers again, but it just keeps getting closer.”

“We’re prepared, as much as we can be. And like I said, they shouldn’t be able to get over the wall yet.”

Meera shrugs, but doesn’t seem all that mollified.

“It’s nice to see Jojen having fun again,” she comments, thinking back to him dancing with the kennel-master’s daughter, “He’s spent too much of his life thinking about it ending.”

“I think all of us spend too much of our lives doing that.”

It’s a clear night, and there’s starlight peeking through the glass.

They were talking, and then they weren’t. They weren’t even touching, and then suddenly, they were kissing. If asked, neither of them would be certain which of them moved first.

Meera’s lips were soft, and she makes a soft laughing noise deep in her throat that goes straight to Bran’s heart. When they part for a moment, it explodes out of her, and he finds it infectious. She rests her forehead on his as they both laugh.

“We’ll be missed if we stay too long,” she says.

“Yes...yes we will,” Bran agrees, his hands finding hers, and then reaching to touch the side of her face.

“But not quite yet?” He asks, and she nods, still giggling.

Winter has come, he thinks, and they must find ways to stay warm.

The white raven comes two days later, to a solemn breakfast table.

And two more days later, the regular raven.

Robb reads the message with a grave face. All the others are frozen, waiting.

“King Robert is dead,” he tells them.

Everyone is silent, in remembrance. Arya’s stomach flip flops. Bran wonders what it will mean for Father and Sansa.

And Catelyn maintains her face, ever the lady.

[itsediadmlove]

Reconciliating Westerosi fandom

Alright folk, first of all I am writing this post for 2 reasons: first of all because I’ve come to like this kind of shit (I thought it to be a nuisance 1 year ago), secondly because I’ve had enough of Reading 3 kind of posts this week; post saying the episode was shitty, posts saying Daenerys is a bitch, posts saying Sansa is a slut. I’ve had enough of people being biased or judging the episode from a ship perspective. Dame of Thrones and D&D don’t give a fucking damn about wich ship we stand or our expectations, we are going to watch the whole season anyway. And them giving us the chance to come here every day every week since the beginnig of the season, being unsure about the outcome, speaking to each other, arguing with each other because we expect different things how everything should end is amazing enough. And being wrong about where the story is leading doesn’t make the deliverance any less majestic.

 Episode 4 was amazing, shit is hitting the fan and the fans and we are back to what game of thrones should be: ‘bout the game of thrones. This season is being far superior to season 7, which in comparison felt plain and predictable (even Starkbowl being a fake was predictable). I have previously wrote a post about this episode in particular and I am going to take my time explaining why both Sansa and Daenerys were awsome this episode. Maybe I’ll repeat myself at some points, but I want the people to stop shitting about what other people believe to be right and take some serious insight on what those characters are doing.

 The last thing I want you to keep in mind before I get started is that I’m pretty aware that I am not a native speaker, and my english can be messy. So if anyone feels like wanting some kind of deeper explanation about what I mean at some point, I invite them to talk with me whenever they want, no matter the ship they stand or whatever; this is not about ships this is about characters understanding so we can enjoy the show without biased or shitty mindsets. I am also aware that I am not a great writter and I believe there is people around far better at exposing themselves.

 -        Daenerys: Amazing episode, the Dragon Queen is finally playing the game herself. Personally I reconciled with her this very episode. I doubted she was able to play the game, this very episode prove me wrong. First we got the Gendry legitimation; clever, as Tyrion pointed out it provided her a loyal (at least theorically) lord of Storm’s End, but it also allowed her to send a message to Sansa Stark about her claim to Winterfell which she could at least jeopardize just by doing something as simple as that. The chamber’s stuff was another amazing display. It allows us to see her concern about Jon’s claim to the Iron Throne. Being fair to her she was right about almost everything. Jon not wanting the throne doesn’t matter at all; even if he never pushed his claim, it will always be an excuse for every single lord around to contest her right to rule over them forcing her to take action making her a tyrant. She was right on the crypts as well (ep2); Jon’s right to the IT will always be shitty, his only prooves are his brother visions and a book anyone could have written, but it doesn’t even matter if it is true. Remember Stannis people, he was right all along about being Robert’s heir, and yet no one gave a damn just because they never wanted him as King. Now we got to the controversial part, her badmouthing Sansa. Yes It is true, but well, there is a throne at stake. For me at this point Daenerys has been thinking about the parentage reveal consequences and being true, the only way to prevent all the shit to come through is having Jon murdered, because even as looking for a way out, once she doesn’t need him anymore and Cersei is done for, she would have to spend all her life out of fear that someone learned the truth. I really believe she loves Jon. During the war council she was in a rush to leave, and I believe that she is actually trying to prevent Jon to tell his family and not because she gives a fuck about her people, after all, she is the very same person that in the books had a huge amount of ill people under her protection in Meereen just because they needed it. In all she is trying to manipulate him while lying herself. Before people start splitting on her (or me)   because of it, if at some point you have been invested in Pol!Jon  theory it seems unfair towards Daenerys to blame her to do exactly the same thing to him. Because what she is really trying here is to keep him safe. As I said before, at this point she should have already contemplated the possibility of murdering him, but she doesn’t want this to happen. Yet, we have to admit that she has already invested to much in Westeros, she has already sacrified to many things and people in her quest, to just back off. She has a responsability to all that people who have died in order for her to get there, and if she risked just because of a hot guy, it would feel to me as a betrayal to all those people, Friends and lovers she has sacrified, she wouldn’t deserve to be a queen while killing Jon would turn her into an usurper. Maybe I don’t like her as a Queen, yet I admire the character, it would be shitty for her to turn mad just because she wants power. If I should describe Daenerys in just one Word it would be passionate; in her way to fight, to rule, to believe on herself and, finally, to love. I don’t know how it is all gonna end, but, if she had to turn Mad, I would feel very displeased if she turns so just because she is ‘’POWER HUNGRY’’, it should be because of love. At some point Daenerys has to stop lying to herself and accept she can’t protect Jon, each death she suffers should push her to the edge, not because she is too sensitive, that woman has crossed the world fighting her way out doing great and terrible things, she isn’t weak, but because she has a duty to all those who believed in her, and for a queen, let a man just take it all away, even the very risk of it happening, should be out of question. And the more she lose, the more she feels endebted to her people and the more she understands, that at the end, she will be forced to kill the man she loves, admires, trusts and considers worthy of being a King. It should be heartbreaking, unfair, saddening and Shakespearian.

 -        Sansa: As always since the sixth season, her character was brilliant this episode. It is true that this episode was far more focused on Daenerys and yet Sansa always get the chance to be outstanding. I loved the political dance between her and Dany this episode. I will go straight to the point; the battlement scene with Tyrion. Sansa isn’t happy there, so much is evident. For some episode now she had been shown around people that were essential in her past (Theon, Tyrion, Sandor). All of them are people that tried to protect her one way or another, the problema is that all of them are related to some piece of her past she doesn’t want to remember. The only reason why Dany made reference to her in her convo with Jon is because she has realised how important he is for her. Everyone can believe if there is any romantic feeling or not, I’m not here to talk about what you all should believe, bute ven if it is just platonical sibling love, Jon is the only male character related to all of her good memories; from her childhood in Winterfell to the present, while being innocent or unrelated  about all the bad ones. This means he is very important to her, important in an extent that is even hard to understand. It is true that he asked something from her and she betrayed such trust; and so? You all antis go around speaking about how she betrayed him without giving a thought about why she did so. Right now, denying Sansa being one of the smartest characters around is just plain and simple denial and her scene with Tyrion was key this episode. There are two emotions in her in such scene: anger (for Jon to leave south) and fear. Anger was pretty easy to get, Tyrion realised, she was unhappy, now, fear shows u when Tyrion ponted out Jon not being a Stark, because this is the very reason that makes him going south dangerous. Sansa is brilliant and she has been thinking ‘bout the parentage reveal as well. And her conclusion is just the same as Daenerys: Jon is going to die because Dany needs him to die. Why she broke the promess: as I see it she has gotten the picture, Dany can’t kill Jon yet, as long as Cersei remains in the throne she needs him to keep the North and the Vale, so if she is going to do something about it, it needs to be now, so she plaid her move, not because she is power hungry, but because she wants to protect him just as much as Daenerys.

 It would be nice for us to be able to stan a character without disrespecting others, or at leasst other fans. The last thing that I want to tell all of you is that I had enough of people throwing the mysoginist bullshit over other people. I really believe GOT is full  of amazing females characters to putt he blame on that. Sure, the world of ASOIAF is unfair with women, welcome to middle age fuckers. If it wasn’t like this we couldn’t relate to such a period. Yet a pretty lot of people needs to defend their faves by pushing the mysoginist bullshit over others, it is pittysome and annowing, the very fact that such a large extent of our faves are females you speak against D&D being such a thing; females characters are amazingly complex here. The very same persons needing to pull such a vague and wrong reasoning over others are the very same people that go saying this or another female character is ‘’POWER HUNGRY’’. I will tell you a secret both Daenerys and Sansa are ambitious (fuck what a revelation) and I find it disgusting that is have to be a guy like me who has to tell you that women being ambitious (doesn’t matter it being Sansa or Dany) is perfectly right thing and they don’t have to love each other just for both of them being women.

[otterbagel]

A Dutiful Partnership- Gavin x Reader (Part 3)

[Part 1 Link]   [Part 2 Link]

 Reader is one of the first androids to get a degree outside of their original purpose. While they experience the struggles of working in a non-accepting environment, they must also solve a mysterious case involving an android murder with their not-so-willing partner, Gavin Reed.

Reader and Gavin finally find some evidence as to who is responsible for the string of violent android attacks.

(Notes: I’m going to try and finish this up soon; its messiness is really starting to come through in this part. I’m enjoying the ideas in this, but I think it has a bit too much going on with its themes, plot, and character development for such a short time frame. I have something pretty ambitious I’ve been working on the past few days, I hope you guys get to see it!)

Warnings: Cursing, depictions of death, bullying, threats, mentions of hate crimes, generally uncomfortable topics! (please be careful reading)

  "So, you didn't go home last night?"

  "No. I stayed and reviewed the case files." 

  Gavin propped his elbow on the door, taking quick glances at you as he drove. "Did you find out anything else?"

  "No."

  He nodded slowly. "Okay...." He rubbed his lips together, tapping the steering wheel. "Are you... like... okay though?"

  "Yes. I'm perfectly fine."

  "Cause Fowler didn't even want me to bring you here."

  "Seriously?!" you exclaimed, opening your mouth in shock, causing Gavin to laugh.

  "Woah, wasn't expecting that. But, yeah. Anderson and the Tin Can are still gonna be there."

  "Why them?" you questioned, although you had your ideas.

  "Well," Gavin sighed. "They want to, you know, actually check for evidence."   You nodded. "I understand."

  "Hey, I can't see that shit either. Don't get so down, stupid."

  "Did I sound upset?"

  "Yeah."

  "Oh- sorry." you shook your stutter away. "So where did this happen?"

  He exhaled loudly, checking down a nearby street for cars. "Her house. She lived alone."

  "Did anyone see anything?" you asked, smoothing down the creases on your pants.

  He shook his head, slowing down to park near the crime scene. You were parked behind Anderson's old car. They must already be inside. You stepped out of Gavin's car, pausing as you inspected the abode.

  Again, it was one made for androids.

  "They're getting pretty bold, doing it back to back like this," he grumbled. You held your door open, squinting at the house. You heard the door behind you slam, along with the jingle of keys. "What is it?" he asked, standing a little ways from your side. 

  "Do you think," you whispered, watching Gavin's stoic yet intrigued expression. "they're choosing victims based on their housing?"

  Gavin looked over the dwelling with a frown. "Nah, I don't think that's it. I'd imagine they're choosing weaker androids that live alone." He motioned you to follow him with a head gesture. "It'd be easier to get away with."

  You nodded to yourself as you both headed up the stairs. This one was even smaller than the last; it was just a living room with what appeared to be a small bedroom. They had much more stuff than the last victim, but it seemed to be mostly personal knick-knacks without much selling value. Hank and Connor, a specialized detective model, were observing the broken android in front of the couch. 

  "Ay, you finally showed up," greeted Hank. Connor looked up from his crouching position, nodding at you before inspecting the body.

  "Well, you're the one that normally comes stumbling in late," Gavin retorted. 

  Hank rolled his eyes before letting them settle on you. "Anyhow, I think you're onto somethin'."

  You stiffened your posture. "Is her thirium gone?"

  "Most of it was. We actually got here in time to get photos." 

  Connor stood up, an image flickering on his hand. Almost all of the blue liquid was around her missing limb, practically none coming from the gaping holes in her torso and shoulder. "In my opinion, they seem to have a device that can remove the body's thirium from a limb socket. That's why the only thirium lost seems to be from the single discarded part," Connor described, putting his hand back down. 

  "That's what I thought too," you responded.

  "Based on the fingerprints, there was a group involved." Hank crossed his arms as his eyes darted around the body. "Probably providers for a Red Ice dealer."

   You nodded, Gavin stepping forward. "You get any matches for the fingerprints?"

  "Yes, but only for a couple of sets. They should be in police custody any minute now," replied Connor. "They may give us enough information to apprehend the rest of their accomplices."

  Gavin nodded with approval. "Looks like these plastic pricks are useful afterall, right Hank?" he chuckled as he lightly shoved your shoulder. Was he joking?

  Connor looked confused, eyes darting between the both of you at a surprisingly quick pace. Anderson appeared to be fuming as he stared at your partner. 

  "What is your deal?" questioned Hank.

  "Huh?" his eyes widened at the hostile tone.

  Hank maintained a stare for a couple of seconds before checking his watch with a huff, turning to Connor behind him. "We got what we came for, let's head back to the station." Hank gave you a sympathetic look as he and Connor left, leaving you standing an awkward distance away from your fellow detective.

  You decided to take a look at the victim yourself, ignoring the awkward situation that had just happened prior. You shook your head as you realized she was an AP700 model. She didn't resemble you in any way, but that didn't stop that unconscious kinship from making you feel ill.

  You looked at Gavin, who appeared to be in deep thought as he stared at the floor. "She's an AP700 model," you sighed. "Your theory appears to be true."

  He scratched his hairline, still looking around the room as he aimlessly walked around. "Yeah... that's why they really didn't want you to come."

  You exhaled, stepping back. "Hopefully, the ones Connor identified will give us more information." 

  "...yeah."

-

     "Please talk to me." Connor uttered soothingly behind the glass. The continuous gaze the suspect gave him was unsettling. You stood beside Gavin as Hank lounged in a chair at the terminal, the coffee the Lieutenant had brought with him growing cold on the desk. Although you were quite focused on the unkempt, greasy man on the other side of the table, you weren't oblivious to the occasional side glances your partner was giving you. 

  Connor eventually pushed back on his chair and left the room without another word, causing Anderson to groan. He reappeared into the observation room moments afterward. "Not a single word," he griped, sitting back on the desk. "I don't know what else to try."

  "I'll give it a go," responded Gavin.

  Hank shrugged, making an offering motion with his hand. "Go ahead. No reason not to." Gavin looked between your group as he headed to the hallway, reappearing on the other side with a huff. The suspect was quite larger than all of you, his overweight stature backed up by a surprising amount of muscle as well. He watched your partner with a squinted gaze and an uncomfortable grin. Gavin sat at the table without much hesitation.

  His lips made a clicking sound as they parted. "So," he began. "we've already told you about getting a reduced s-"

  "You work with androids, right?" he laughed. You tensed up. "Is that AP700 one of them?"

  "I can't answer that. Can you tell me the names of your partners?"

  He leaned forward, jingling the cuffs. "You know, we talk about it a lot."

  As you felt your stress levels rise, you turned your yellow LED away from the rest of your coworkers. You needed to remain calm. This was your case; you needed this information. At least he was speaking now.

  He rested his chest on his arms. "Its definitely a good target. I think if something happened to it, it would send a good message, you know?" You clenched your jaw.

  Gavin's tone became snarky. "Tell us where your operation is located and maybe you won't get a life sentence."

  He raised his eyebrows. "I'd like to see you try to get me anything close to a life sentence."

  The detective slid his arms on the table quickly, jumping from his chair as he leaned forward. "Android offenses are in the same category as crimes against humans. Your fingerprints were all over that crime scene- I'd like to see you try to argue your innocence, fucker." He pointed at him accusingly, taking care to stay back out of the man's reach. "Its only a matter of time before we get everyone else's prints too."

  He shook his head with a laugh. "That's just cause it was a last minute job," he gestured to the window with a smug smile. "Your maid didn't go home last night. Had to change our plans. That's all I'm sayin'."

  "Oh shit," Hank mumbled, both of your coworkers looking in your direction. Gavin took a nervous glance at the window, his face seemingly pale. You, stunned, checked your stress levels. High, but not at a dangerous level. 

  "I think I'm done here," Gavin said, clearly shocked. The suspect squinted at him, seemingly proud of the discourse he brought to the situation.

  Hank nodded to himself, standing from the chair as Connor headed to the door. You followed them to the hallway, then the older man pointed at you. "Don't. Let us handle this guy." he whispered. You bit your lip. You weren't about to argue, even though you felt like you should. You crossed your arms as you turned to hide in the breakroom.

  You covered your mouth with your hand as you leaned against the counter, staring at the floor. It had been a split second decision to stay at the office that night. You wouldn't have been able to take on a group of that size alone. Could you have even taken on the one you just questioned?

  Probably not.

  Tons of thoughts flooded your mind at once, ranging from blaming yourself for the other android's death to reassessing your abilities as a detective. It was a lot to take in.

  After a minute, Gavin rushed down the hall and poked his head around the corner. "Shit- are you okay?" he questioned in a quiet tone.

  "Ye- yeah. I'm fine. Just a bit surprised," you widened your eyes with a deep exhale.

  He examined your face with intrigue. "Are you sure you're okay? You look really... out of it."

  "Yeah... I'm fine." you mumbled, rubbing your arm. 

  He smiled a little, pointing to your temple. "Heh, guess you just left your blinker on then,"

  You checked your stress levels, which were on the higher end of normal. It had to be blinking yellow. You hid it with your hand. "S-sorry. What he said really got to me, though."

  "Fuck," he cursed, the humor draining from his face. "Sorry you had to hear that. It... uh... wasn't good."

  "Gavin, they have to be watching me." your voice took on an unintentional hoarseness you didn't know you could have. "I don't feel safe anymore."

  Gavin's expression turned to that of frustration as he stood in front of you. He appeared to be mulling something over as his eyes darted around the room. 

  "I'm sorry if what I said bothered you," you added.

  "What? No. I just... ugh," Gavin responded quickly, waving his hand. "I needed to think about something."

  "About what?"

  He pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. "I live alone. If you have to find somewhere to stay, my place is open."

  You widened your eyes in surprise, taken aback by the kind gesture.

  His face was red with embarrassment as he looked around the office, although nobody was paying attention. "Well, do you wanna come or not?"    

[thatwritingho]

Momento Mori

Chapter 4

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

“So, how are you boys feeling about Olive? Any, ah, thoughts? Concerns?”

The band had reconvened in the meeting room after the spur of the moment autopsy demonstration(there was, luckily, always a dead body on hand at Mordhaus, what with the employee death rate), Olive having been dismissed for the remainder of the day to finish settling in, set to start her duties the following day.

“I dunno, dood, I mean, she seems kinda fahked in the head a bit,” Pickles was the first to comment as he popped the cap to a fresh beer, recalling how she had enthusiastically prattled on about different diseases and birth defects that were possible in each organ as she had removed it, “but in like, y'know, a good way.”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, pretty sure people aren’t supposed to be, like, that happy when talking about flesh eating viruses,” Nathan took a swig from his own beer as the rest of the band nodded in agreement. “But uh… watching her slice that guy open? That was, uh, pretty fucking brutal. And really hot.”

Murdeface crossed his arms and reclined back in his seat, eyeing all his bandmates before staring down Charles.

“Schure, schesch a babe and all, but isch sche really good enough to be the doctor for Dethklok? I mean, we’re talkin our health here, guysch! What'sch more important than that?”

Pickles scoffed at Murderace’s attempt to be devil’s advocate, giving him a skeptical sideways glance.

“Dood, since when do yeh care aboot bean’ healthy?”

“Ya, Moidaface! Yous just wants to bes a dick!” Toki glanced to Charles, nodding his head. “I likes her, I thinks she should stays.”

“Thank you, Toki.” The bespectacled man cleared his throat, “I can, ah, assure you, Murderface, that she is more than qualified for this position. I did screen her myself, after all. Her capabilities are on par with anyone else I would have considered, but she is the only one who met all of your, ah, selected criteria.”

“Yeh mean shes da only one who wasn’t some crusty old dood like our other dahctors?”

“Yes, Pickles, precisely,” Charles’ attention turned to the blonde busily plucking away at his guitar, the only one who had yet to provide any feedback. “Ah, Skwisgaar, anything to say? About Olive?”

“Ja, I woulds do hers, evens if she ams creepys.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Charles could only sigh as the conversation quickly devolved into Skwisgaar and Nathan discussing the do-ability of his newest hire.

“That’s, ah, not what I meant. At all. But I would like to go ahead and ask that all of you refrain from any attempt at a physical or romantic relationship with her, since she is your, ah, employee. It would make for a difficult sexual harrassment case, were anything to go sour, and we can all agree that we don’t need another one of those? Yes?”

Charles knew the disgruntled, grumbled agreements from around the room were the only affirmation he would receive.

“Alright then. Since we are, ah, all in agreement, I shall have her follow through with the two week trial as planned, and then you can make your final decision. In the mean time, I would like for her to conduct a routine physical exam on each of you to learn all of your, ah, various health conditions.”

“What!? A fuckin check up!? Didn’t we juscht have one of thosche?”

“Well, Murderface, that was, ah, last year. An annual physical is crucial for prevention of the onset of illnesses. And as I said, she needs to familiarize herself with your, ah, your… bodies.”

The immature snickering around the table at his last sentence was expected, as was Muderface’s continued outbursts.

“Scho we’re gonna have to take our clothesch off and get poked and prodded by thisch chick? And you exschpect us to not even fuck her? Isch sche gonna schtick her finger up our asschesch too?!”

“Pfft, like she woulds evens thinks about fuckings you, Moidaface.”

“Yeah, I uh, feel bad for her, y’know, having to see him naked and all. It’ll, uh, probably blind her. Scar her for life or… something.”

The bassist stood abruptly at the taunting, chair screeching back as he threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Fuck thisch!”

“Murderface, please sit down” Charle’s took a moment to close his eyes and inhale deeply through his nose as Murdeface plopped back down in his seat with a scowl. “I hired her to be the band physician, remember? What else did you expect if not a typical examination? Regardless, I have, ah, other matters to attend to. Any other questions or comments? No? Excellent.”

Charles made for the door quickly, but turned back around and addressed the room before exiting fully, “And, ah, everyone, please be sober for your physicals tomorrow, ok?”

He knew it was a pointless request, as confirmed by their halfhearted agreements, but at least he could say he tried.

.

Ohmygod ohmygod ohmyGOD

The formidable wooden door to her temporary housing closed heavily behind Olive, and she leaned back against the hard wood to kept herself upright, heart pounding in her chest as she finally let herself be overcome by the pure, raw emotions she had kept at bay for the past few hours, a ridiculous squeal bubbling forth from her throat as she smiled a big, jaw-achingly large smile.

“Holy SHIT!”

With that exclamation, she hurriedly kicked off her heels and propelled herself onto the plush mattress, latching onto a pillow and burying her face in the fluff to muffle her thrilled screeching, feet kicking childishly in an attempt to relieve the tension caused by excitement-fueled adrenaline coursing through her body.

Once thoroughly satisfied with the amount of emotion released, she surfaced from the pillow for air, face red and hair wildly askew, and snatched her phone, sitting up to type a brief message to her twin sister, telling her of the good news and promising a more detailed phone call later that night, not trusting herself to be able to form coherent enough sentences to hold a conversation at the moment. Despite this, she was still bursting with the need to talk to someone out loud to organize her thoughts, and so turned to the only other being in the room, who was currently curled up and napping under his wooden tunnel.

“Sorry to wake you, Apophis, but I have to tell you about this!”

Said reptile lazy curled itself around her arm as she held the appendage in front of her, flat head resting on the back of her hand as he blinked slowly, paying as much attention as a snake could.

“I don’t even know where to start, they were so much better in person than I could have imagined! Fuck! They’re all so so cool, so beautiful, too! And Murrderface and Skwisgaar were totally checking me out, can you believe it? Oh my god, you were right about picking out this outfit, man. And they wanted me to do an autopsy for them! God, you should’ve been there, their faces when I made the Y incision were fucking priceless, like they didn’t think I’d actually be able to do it. Fuckers. Nathan seemed really into it, though, I think he said in an interview once that his favorite subject in school was, like, frog dissection or something fucked up like that.”

Sucking in a big breath after her long winded jabbering, a concerned look crossed her face as the long bodied creature shifted, raising its head to stare at her from eye level.

“Oh! Don’t worry, they don’t dissect snakes in school, just frogs. I’d never let anyone hurt you anyway, you know that.”

Seemingly abated, he settled back down, once more relaxing against her hand.

“Man, dude, there’s no way I can focus enough to unpack, damn. I’m supposed to give them my first physical exams tomorrow. I’m so nervous, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. What if I fuck up? What if they fire me before I even get a chance to know them? Oh my god why did I think I could do this?”

Her audience merely flicked his tongue at her in annoyance.

“Yeah, you’re right, man. Fuck it. Whatever happens, happens. I’ll be fine. It’s fine. I’m fine. Totally fine. The finest I’ve ever been. Yep”

The nervous laugh following her attempt at self assurance would have made Apophis roll his eyes, if such a thing were possible for a snake to do.

.

“Dude, are you drunk? Seriously?”

Olive, clad in your stereotypical white lab coat over a simple form fitting black dress, clipboard in hand, stared in disbelief at the massive front man sitting before her on the exam chair.

“Uh… I mean, I only had a, uh, a couple of beers. Not uh, not enough to get me drunk, or… anything.”

Dark eyes could only blink at him incredulously.

“Man, I can smell the alcohol on your breath from here, and it’s not just beer.”

Nathan at least had the decency to look a bit sheepish at that, averting his eyes to stare at one of the many anatomical diagrams on the wall.

“I, uh.. I didn’t think it would matter.”

The newly appointed physician could only sigh.

Damn he looks adorable.

“It’s ok. We can just, um, try this again tomorrow. But no drinking before, ok? I mean it. I can’t get proper readings while you’re intoxicated, yeah?”

A deep grunt was his only reply as he hopped to the floor, boots thudding loudly from the impact, silky hair flowing around his shoulders. As he strode past her for the door, Olive couldn’t help but shudder a bit at how much bigger he was than her, his broad frame casting a large shadow over her own small one, a shiver going down her spine at his deep voice when he mumbled a half assed “sorry” before slamming the door shut behind him.

.

There was only one word for the look Skwisgaar Skwigelf was leveling her with right now; dangerous.

“How’s does yous wants me, doctor?”

She had wondered for years, about how women could keep throwing themselves at this man, keep having his love children when they knew there was no hope for anything more than meaningless sex with someone probably riddled with STDs, destined to be a soon forgotten face among the hundreds of other who had fallen victim to his charms.

But that look. Like he wanted to devour her, make her fully and wholly his, devote his entire being to pleasuring her and only her. The way his voice dropped and sent chills down her spine when he spoke her title. It was a pull unlike any attraction she had experienced before.

Fucking hell. I get it now.

The blonde was standing just slightly closer than would be considered appropriate, towering over her, leaning forward slightly as he waited for instruction, a knowing smile curling onto his face as Olive cleared her throat and looked away.

Damn him.

“Just, um, on the exam chair, and take your shirt and pants off.”

He leaned back from from her and sauntered away, stretching his long arms above his head as he removed his shirt, making a show of it as he carelessly tossed the article of clothing on a nearby chair, glancing back at her over his shoulder as he unbuttoned his pants and let them drop as he hopped up.

Oh, you motherfucker. I’m not that easy.

Victory was claimed as hers when the obnoxiously attractive smirk fell from his face, replaced by an annoyed pout at her next words as she tapped her pen on the clipboard.

“So. Let’s talk about your rather extenisive history of STDs.”

.

“No fuckin way. You can kissch my assch if you think I’m gonna strip for you so you can jab at me like that schtiff from yeschterday.”

Olive sighed in exasperation, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Man, come on, seriously, you have to take your shirt off for me to do this right.”

Murderface crossed his arms protectively over his chest, turning his nose up and looking away childishly with a small ‘hmph.’

“Look, I’m not going to slice you open. You gotta at least take me on a date first before I’ll go that far with you.”

The brunette turned to her fully and raised his lip in an attempt at distaste, which was overthrow as he failed to fight off a smile at her lame joke, a soft pink blush creeping on his cheeks at the implication.

“Fine. But juscht don’t try any funny sctuff, or I’ll kick your assch.”

Her snicker made his face redden deeper.

“Noted.”

.

The scars greeting her from Toki’s bare back were alarming, to say the least. But they were old, multiple years old, the skin long healed and morphed into a pale off white, with only a few remaining a light, almost imperceptible pink. He was tense and silent, breathing shallowly, probably waiting for her to ask, but she wasn’t going to.

No need to bring up bad memories. Just get the basics without being direct.

“Have you had any surgeries or broken bones in your life?”

“No skurgeries, buts a fews bones breaks when I was littles.”

“Were you medically treated for them? Did they heal properly? Ever have any pain in those areas, like when the weather changes?”

“Um, sometimes, whens it about to starts raingings. Deys ache.”

Olive nodded, scribbling the info down on his chart in her messy handwriting, not missing how he avoided the first two questions.

“Alright, you can get dressed, I think I got everything I needed.”

The guitarist exhaled a slightly uneven breath, muscles relaxing as he yanked his shirt back on, shooting the woman before him a thankful look and settling back on the exam chair.

“You’re in the best shape of anyone else I’ve seen so far, man. Keep it up.”

One congratulatory pat on the shoulder later and Toki was exiting the room, yelling to someone in the waiting area as he walked out that he was better than them.

.

A long, weary sigh snuck it’s way past Olive’s lips as she waited for her last patient of the day to arrive, mulling over her previous interactions with the band.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

“Long day, huh?”

Chuckling tiredly, she turned to greet the redhead as he meandered in, bee lining for the exam chair and hoisting himself up without being asked, settling at the very edge of the cushion.

“Yeah, man, just a bit.”

Green eyes sparkled at her in amusement, pierced brow raising as he began to tap out a light beat with his feet, elbows resting on his knees.

“Yehp, the other guys can be real douchebags aboot this stuff. Hope dey didn’t give yeh too much trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” the response was automatic and half-hearted as she scribbled a note about his fidgeting on the clipboard in hand.

“Dat so?”

She looked up at that and immediately regretted it. There was that damned side grin of his again.

“Y- yeah.”

Oh my god did I just fucking stutter?

It took all she had for her newly weak knees to not give out under her as he gave her a wink.

“Atta girl.”

This man is going to be the death of me.

.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Lots of dialogue in this, hope I didn’t ruin it. Comments are my life blood!

[coldalbion]

Stephen Hawking and Roy Batty

I don't quite know how to feel about the death of Stephen Hawking. I see a whole bunch of people saying that he never expected to live that long, so he was gifted with many more years, in which he shared his bona fide genius. I also know that 76 is a good run, and I'm in two minds about whether I, as a wheelchair using disabled person will even get that far myself.

Hawking was a man of good conscience - he marched against the Vietnam War, back when he could walk. He was a staunch defender of the NHS and Free At Point Of Use healthcare.

He was also, perhaps the most world-renowned British disabled person. People might not know our Paralympians names', but they knew who Hawking was. Our most visible disabled person is gone - and people are saying "Oh, well, he got more than he thought he would have." My own Mum, who had Cystic Fibrosis, wasn't supposed to make it past her teens, made it to her early sixties. Yes, every day was an unexpected benefit - but a "gift"?

No. Each one of those days was hard fought. Hard won. Because there are days when you truly, deeply, want to give up. You have good days and bad days, of course - and sometimes that struggle makes the good days that little sweeter. But it makes the bad days even more bloody vicious - exhausting, mentally and physically.

Disabled and chronically ill people can and do have good lives, and we can provide a shit-tonne to those around us, and we do. It's not all suffering, but, let's be honest - the suffering is very real. The difficulty is real.

And it could be made easier. Instead, we're told to 'get on with it', shat on when we asked for help. I'll bet, in his early days, before he became famous - and even then - at some points Hawking had to fight to get what he needed. Had to fight top get the right care, to get people to see him as a person.

Representation matters. Now one of our biggest representatives is gone - a man who was helping to fight the injustices committed against sick and disabled people in this country - and across the world, but particularly in this country - every damn day.

Now he's gone, and I dunno, but I feel like the Roy Batty in the unedited cut of Blade Runner, meeting Tyrell his creator. It was edited to say "I want more life, Father!" but what it actually was as shot, was:

"I want more life! Fucker!"

He's gone, and who will rise to prominence for the cripples, the spoonies? The ones whose minds don't have dominance over their matter, but they use them anyway - in strange and unconventional ways?

I'm glad he died peacefully, I am. But the rest of us, we get no peace. No rest. Because we have to work twice, thrice, as hard just to tread water.

Stephen Hawking's life wasn't a gift - the years of intellect were not perfect, nor were they always right, but they weren't a gift.

They were stolen like Promethean fire. Given to the rest of us, yes. But they were stolen from those who would have written him off, who would have had his face, shaped by muscle wastage, removed from relevance. From uncaring shits who don't think, he, we, should get the help we need to live, to love - except if we fit their narrow-minded definitions of what's acceptable.

So forgive me if I'm not sad. Forgive me if I don't think the extra years are gifts. I'm angry. I want to throw back my head and bloody well howl, like some werewolf or some Klingon, or some mourning, shrieking magician who soothes and binds and sends streams of wrathful dead to strike his enemies, and cools those vengeful wights that would harm his own.

If you force us to steal our lives, we will *continue* to do so, on *our* terms. We will until we're dead and gone. We won't do it for you. We'll do it for *us*, and those we love.

I, we, want more life!

[braindamageforbeginners]

Intent/The First 120 Hours

Cycle 8, Day 11

Everyone always wants to know what chemo (technically maintenance chemo) is like, and I try to give an accurate portrayal, However, the truth is, even with the lighter touch and my new Hunter S. Thompson drug-fueled lifestyle (actually, after reading “Gonzo Girl,” even at my most heavily-medicated, I’m not in the same league), you’ll feel physically and mentally funky (and there’s always that nasty injection site pain from the Marizomib). The good news is, with Marizomib, fatigue is the most-noted downside (I wrote about that previously, but fatigue, I’ve learned, isn’t really exhaustion, it’s when consciousness is painful), so I usually get a full night’s sleep. Thanks to a quasi-legal medical substance, the chemo hangover is cut down significantly, and you wake up feeling, almost too good. So, yeah, in my false sense of recovery, I did push myself a little too hard and sprain something in the bad leg, so I'm spending today on the couch, thanks to that nasty rubbery leg of mine. I try to keep active and fit, but it isn't always a reasonable goal. So, today; rest; tomorrow, more-achievable goals, like going up and down stairs without a deathgrip on the rail.

Anyway, the point of this writing project is to provide some sort of useful data in an easily-digested form, so I thought I’d give a few pointers on surviving the first 120 hours after a terminal (we'll discuss it) cancer diagnosis (with the warning that it’s from my perspective, but what works for me may well be fatal for you; use your own judgment). I’m not talking about self-care or organizing your prescriptions - that’s later in the process. I’m going to tell you what I wish I’d known to survive the first four or five days after the diagnosis (non-medically). This is about how to subtly shift your thinking from "I'm gonna die" to "I'm going to scream into the gates of the Underworld like I own that fucker," which, based on personal experience, might be the necessary attitude to putting off that particular scenario.

1. Do what you need to do, emotionally. One of the shittier things able-bodied people do to new cancer patients is tell them to buck up, or be positive. Folks, if this goes South, I will experience cachexia. Most survivors are sterilized and have long-term health issues related to treatment. You wouldn’t tell someone who’s about to march into the jaws of hell to smile, especially if they’ve just had a seizure or are in pain. If you have to drink a bottle of whisky and drunkenly call an ex, now’s the time, you might not get it later. I think I spent a day dry heaving and lying in bed before I really came to my senses. Do what you have to, but do it quickly because you are now on the clock.

2. Find appropriate help. Just as not all cancers are created  equal, not all doctors are created equal. Again, according to Briish stastics, “medical misadvenure” is the third leading cause of death. Having said that, even though I insist on the very best for my glioblastoma, that’s because there isn’t much of a middle ground between “survivor” and “dead” with that. If I get lung cancer or colon cancer, I may not be quite as picky. I’ve talked previously about finding good oncologists, and, as recently noted, they’re usually not motivated by money. And be creative in where you get information; two friends from the Mesozoic contacted me to ask for help with their parents who have glioblastoma. It seemed odd to me that I’d be asked about, especially since one of these friends is a practicing physician. I try to give everyone accurate, well-researched advice, and I hope I did then, but it still feels like there’s somehing wrong in the universe when I’m somewhat knowledgeable about how to handle a crisis. We’ll ignore the self-contained, Zen koan-like irony of that statement in a guide to what to do.

3. Find new friends/join a support group. I don’t know if it’s just brain cancer patients - I don't know if it's just brain cancer patients or all cancer patients, but your previous support group (or key members of it) will be conspicuous in their absence. In my case (and another person I've read of), I heard back from a bunch of random people I literally hadn't heard from in decades (in a few cases). I get an awful lot of passing privilege, but, so far, any time I've dropped the "C" word - it's immediately changed the nature of our interactions. So far, overwhelmingly, people have been kind, or positive, which is great, but it does get grating after a while that any time the phrase "and what do you do?" comes around, there's a stilted shift. You know who absolutely could not give less of a shit about your new medical label (unless you're having a seizure)? Other cancer survivors and patients.  And - bonus - they'll actually be able to give you far more accurate and up-to-date info on your disease and/or financial or social resources that might now be at your disposal than I know about. I'm indebted to my old friends from the Mesozoic who showed up to cheer me on in my hour of need (extra kudos to Laura and Julie), but I owe an unrepayable number of favors to the Leukemia Kids (okay, that's the Young Cancer Support Group, but most cancer patients under 40 are lymphoma or leukemia patients/survivors, hence my name)(sorry if you guys don't like it, I'll think of a better one ASAP) who helped me get past that (sort of, I still need all the help I can get). I did not do that, but, in retrospect, it was a massive mistake I didn’t.

4. Prepare for drama - your life is about to become a bad Lifetime Television Special, and it does affect different people in different ways - I know one brain cancer survivor whose husband left her  - and you’re going to be doing this while experiencing an amount of fear you’d previously been unable to imagine; the full 31 flavors.  You will be - initially - completely overwhelmed by terror. I'd recommend seeing a shrink (I do); all the prescription pads will come out for this one. The bad news is, even if you beat this thing, you don't ever really get over it. I've talked to late-stage breast cancer survivors who say the same thing; even after years of clean scans, the anxiety and fear never fully leaves (it certainly hasn't for me, though, but I'm not even a year out of a five-year deal).

5. know the difference between terminal, incurable, chronic and fatal. I remember which step on the stairway I was on - the third or fourth - when Mad Scientist told me those six words, over the phone (I was traveling at the time), "I'm so sorry, it's stage IV." The world swung, because I suddenly knew not only that I would die soon, but exactly how (that's a really horrifying thing to consider, I wrote one of my fist essays - posted around here, somewhere - to try and capture that sensation). Fatal diseases are like a car crash - they'll kill you. Terminal illnesses are defined by Wikipedia (and I like their definition, since the traditional definition has involved how, subjectively, soon/quick the disease is likely to kill you) as, "an incurable disease that cannot be adequately treated and is reasonably expected to result in the death of the patient." You'll note a lot of weasel words in there that make this nice, elastic definition my favorite, but the phrase I like to hang on is, "adequately treated." Chronic diseases are the ones that last three or more months (or something like that; I did take an intro pathophysiology class that involved knowing the instructor's definition of "acute" and "chronic"). Chronic cancers - like mine and a lot of recurrent leukemias - are ones that require five consecutive years without metastasis or recurrence before you're declared "cured." It's telling of the quality of my medical team that, as far as I know, none of them have ever said the words "fatal" or "terminal" in my presence.  Instead, I've been given a series of treatments that really suck (check this blog for any examples you'd like), but, I'd so far rate as "adequate" in that they've kept the disease at bay (for those of you working out, step-by-step along with me how to save yourself or a loved one, that statistic is progression-free survival. I'd imagine, based on how a new immunotherapy has gotten to round 3 just in the nine months I've been in treatment (technically, treatment ended back in February, I'm in "maintenance chemotherapy," but since I have to be in the infusion center every Tuesday, and I have to remain wary of potential problems/side-effects/etc. it's just easier to think of myself as still being in chemo). And most cancers are, technically, incurable. We might have a definitive treatment of some sort, but since it's ultimately caused by damaged DNA, and we can't repair or zap every single rogue cell in your body, most are just genetic time bombs. And, since I've survived the first tumor, a lot of medicine seems to have swung back to reclassify a lot of very treatable (but not curable, apparantly) as either chronic or having that potential. I like to use the idea/metaphor I saw another science writer use; it's like heart disease or diabetes; it'll take a lifetime of management and monitoring,  but it may not, necessarily kill you. In other words, you've received a helluva strong first blow, but, even with the gravest prognosis, you might be around for a longer struggle (and time) than you'd thought.

6. Use statistics as guidelines, not rules. This was a big one for me. And it doesn't mean you shouldn't use statistics, or automatically dispute them, but realizing the GBM median life expectancy included both 20-year-olds and 90-year-olds who dropped dead of heart attack and people who refused (or were not candidates) for other treatment. Again, there's a lot of luck involved in this, at every single point, but you can - mentally and physically - prepare for pain, or  hardship, or potential heart problems (and react and treat such things). You can't really prepare for cancer recurring or metastasizing, apart from writing your own eulogy (which, come to it, I suppose this is a part of).

7. Decide right now if you want to live or go gentle into that good night - This is far, far more important than you might think, because both the medical industrial complex, your disease, and the basic, horrible logistics of this situation are going to be beyond exhausting. There's a lot of luck here, but, from minute 1, I have had one thing going for me:  complete, near-psychotic commitment to actually staying alive.  And that's what it'll take (sadly, in more than a few cases, much, much more will be required).  You're going to have to charm, cheer, cajole, finagle, and, in some cases, con people like there won't be any consequences, because, if you're unsuccessful, there won't be. And this will give you the required attitude to deal with some of the higher-ups you'll meet in medicine (and scream at them, if necessary).  Again, full honors to all my various clinicians and support staff over the years who have never made me feel trapped or impotent by my immediate sitaution, but, at the same time, if any of the sort of arrogance and contempt I've heard of from other folks (including doctors) was actually warranted on behalf of modern science and medicine, there would be no fatal diseases. Again, I'll happily write glowing testimony on behalf of the people treating me, but I've met too many patients who feel like refusing treatment because they're too dejected or frightened to go on, and their doctors or insurance are still charging them (why that's still allowed is largely due to the fact that modern medical insurance is an entirely artificial industry created to meet no demand, and enabled by Richard Nixon and Edgar Kaiser)(again, I'm making none of that up). I'd urge everyone to get up, remember that dead men, women, transgender, non-binary, (and anyone I'm forgetting), do not pay bills; hopefully that'll give you the sort of needed psychological boost to get off your butt and demand more. It's not a sustainable life strategy, but until the end of your illness is in sight, Malcolm X's statement, "By any means necessary" should be your mantra.

8. Don’t lose hope - Believe me, it seems weird for me to write it, and it might very well be warranted in more than a few cases, but I did ask myself, once, why I'd be on the phone the next morning ordering and organizing my prescriptions (orchestrating what substances should be in me on which day is now a more daunting logistics task than the D-Day landings), instead of just sitting quietly in a comfy chair until it was all over (that's still always a temptation), and all I can say is, I guess it was enough to motivate me through another day. And another. And another. And, in the meantime, another treatment has made it to trials, for, wait for it, recurrent GBM (which is what I'll have if the Warlocks miscalculate using the lunar calendar)(no longer a joke; each treatment period is 28 days). I'm not gonna lie, it's gonna get miserable, and not all of us will make it (Hell, measles has a death rate, which, there,  that sensation of realizing measles can be fatal, is what a TIA feels like).

9. Mourn your old life, don’t waste time trying to get it back. I made that mistake between Tumor #1 and 2. I'm not making it again. I realize I can only write for myself, which was the horrifying realization that came to define my existence - no one, as far as I can tell, has written a decent, current, useable guide to avoiding the reaper when your number's up. So I guess I'm going to have to stay alive long enough to do that. Also, I don't know if anyone out there's outlived their own life expectancy, but I've already done it twice, and there is no more amazing sensation - no matter what else your life looks like.

[crystalkleure]

Man, I've been putting this post off. For like...weeks.

Alright, if anyone's interested in knowing why I haven't been online much lately, there's a wall of text under the cut:

I'm deathly allergic to just about everything I touch. No, really.

It turns out I have the same really horrible illness that my grandmother has. It skipped right over my mom, but it got me. Gran's always called it 'environmental illness', but I'm not sure if that's really the actual name for it or not. Basically, whenever I'm exposed to something, I become severely allergic to that thing in a day or two. So, that's a real good way to literally starve to death; whenever I eat something, I'm allergic to it the next day and it makes me really sick, and it's like that forever now.

But it's not just food. It's progressed to the point where just touching some things, like nickel and some dyes, can make my skin peel and blister. And it's going to get worse, to where further exposure to anything I've become allergic to is going to make my airways swell and seal up.

I'm taking tons of Benadryl and Ondansetron tablets [antihistamines and antiemetics] right now, so I'm still a semi-functional human being sometimes, but that's not going to work forever. It's already not working as well as it was at first, and it's not ideal anyway. Because sure, I can actually eat and keep it down, but it still hurts like a bitch for hours. And sure, I can touch certain things without my skin peeling and bleeding, but it still itches sometimes. Over-the-counter antihistamines just aren't strong enough, and what they can do won't last -- I'm already nearly having to OD on it just to get a few hours of relative peace. And Ondansetron is NOT something that is meant to be taken every seven hours for months on end [which is how I’ve been having to take it], so who knows how that’s going to fuck me up eventually.

But there's no actual real cure for this. The only known reliable treatment available is a weekly shot that would make me not be allergic to just enough things so that I can exist in a tightly-controlled space without immediately keeling over dead. It doesn't cover much. My grandma takes that shot, and she can only eat the same 10-20 unseasoned foods, and nothing else, just the bare, bland essentials, forever, and she can only wear pure cotton clothing. She spends most of her time shut up in her house, and she always has to have someone around to take care of her. She can't go out in public for more than a few hours at a time, because whenever she does she'll inevitably run into something she's allergic to and she'll suddenly get so sick she has to go straight to the hospital. So, she can be exposed to other things for a little while, but not for very long, and not two days in a row. And everytime she IS exposed to the outside world, she's taking a huge risk. She doesn't know exactly when she'll suddenly stop being okay.

So that's the kind of fun I'm looking at for the rest of my life. I'm not even sure when I'll actually be able to get that shot, though.

See, the doctors around here don't seem to believe that this is a real condition. Gran had to go all the way to Texas before she found a doctor that would actually take her seriously. And it also doesn't help that one of the fuckwit doctors I've gone to has put it down in my medical records that I'm just anorexic, there's nothing else wrong with me.

I'm not anorexic, and I never have been.

Of course, don't you know that ANY time a young woman suddenly loses a lot of weight and is reluctant to eat anything, the ONLY possible diagnosis is anorexia! It can't be anything else!

They won't even LOOK for anything else now, for the most part. It's because they don't believe me when I say there's actually something really wrong, they just berate me and threaten to lock me up in some eating disorder clinic if I don't improve, fast.

And I know they don't believe me because anorexics lie. They lie about their weight so you won't nag them. They lie about actually having a physical ailment as a cause for the dramatic weight loss, to keep the doctors trying to treat them running around in circles looking for something that isn't there. They lie. And so, if a doctor thinks you're anorexic, nothing you say can convince them otherwise. Sometimes they won't even listen if a family member tries to vouch for you too, because they just think they're an enabler.

But, it's in my records now, which any new doctor I go to will read before they even see me, and I can't change it. So that's everyone's first impression now. Even if I try to change to a new doctor, I'm fucked before they even talk to me. I'm probably going to end up in some eating disorder rehab torture clinic before anyone even considers that something might really be wrong with me, because then at least they could SEE that their 'treatments' won't work; they'll just make me very sick.

This is actually even more complicated than just all of that though, if I go into all the nasty details of how lower-class American healthcare works [or doesn't work], but that's already been what, ten paragraphs of text? Here's some more bullshit anyway:

I had to pay $800 out-of-pocket for an independent allergy test because me and my mom had a hunch that this might be what was wrong, but we couldn't convince my doctor to order an official test for it [which would have been free for us]. She didn't think it was 'medically necessary'.

Even now, these stupid fucking MedicAid doctors won't accept those results as any sort of real evidence or information because a test supposedly has to be 'officially' ordered by them before they'll put the results down in my medical records

I've already been thrown in a psych ward once. Not an eating disorder clinic, mind you, but an ordinary psych ward. For suicide watches and violent people. I spent the night in there with those people. Didn't get a lot of sleep. The only reason I got out the very next day was because normal psych wards don't accept 'eating disorder' patients. Do I have to say it was the same fuckwit idiot doctor who put “just anorexic” down in my official medical records who fucking improperly Baker Acted me here? I could sue that fucker if I had the energy for it, I'm sure of that.

Doctors who accept MedicAid like to triple- and quadruple-book multiple patients for the same time slots, so I generally never actually get to speak more than about two or three sentences to any of my doctors before they throw me out of their office and move on to the next guy. They do this because MedicAid apparently doesn't pay them 'enough' per patient, so they try to make up for that in quantity over quality.

It's almost impossible to get any of my doctors on the phone. And they won't call back if I leave a message. So I have to spend an hour or more calling back repeatedly before I actually get a person instead of a machine on the line, just so I can ask for a prescription refill. Every time.

Changing my primary care doctor would do me no good. I can only pick from a very short list of them that is provided to me by Humana [my insurance provider]. If I go to anyone who's not on their list, they won't cover it. And these people are all the same, because they all take the same crappy cheap insurance. They all do the multi-booking thing and don't listen.

Also I'd have to get 'referred' over to any new doctor I want to see by my current PC doctor before I can officially change. And there's NO WAY I can get this one to do that; everything I've tried to ask her to do, she's said is 'not medically necessary' and I need to go home and 'just eat'. She really wants to send me off to some eating disorder clinic.

And because of the constant threat of being locked up, I've been putting off going back to the doctor at all for about a month now.

[spellcastersjudgement]

For the number thing, possible 1 and 44 for Joey and Kaiba...? O-or 11 and 14 for Ryou and Kaiba, of course you don’t have too

OKAY SO first of all thank you for this!!! second, the reason this took so gosh darn long is because i am a long winded person and though this was supposed to be a drabble/ficlet ask thingy but i think im physically, spiritually, and emotionally incapable of writing anything thats short. please enjoy this 4500 word fluff bomb because i know i sure as hell enjoyed writing it

#1: chocolate + #44: puppy love

 This was a load of horseshit if Seto Kaiba had ever seen it. He’d lived through whatever the fuck happened to his Battle City tournament, that fucker Dartz highjacking his company, the existence of Maximillian Pegasus, and hallucinations of an ancient version of himself subservient to the Pharoah that supposedly lived in Yugi Moto’s necklace, but this—this was what brought him to his knees.

“Seto, I know you’ve got nothing better to do tonight.” Mokuba had said, and if it weren’t a phone call Seto had no doubt his little brother would be fixing him with the trademark Kaiba stare, the one he reserved for board meetings and press conferences and had inadvertently passed on to his sibling. “You’re gonna come and you’re gonna be polite and you’re gonna have a drink and you will leave no earlier than ten.”

“I have no interest in hanging out with the dweeb patrol.”

“Seto Kaiba I know where you keep your deck and if you think I won’t hold your cards hostage you are sorely mistaken.”

The CEO stopped typing his reply to the millionth email of the day at that. “Is that a threat, little brother?”

“It’s a promise. You need human interaction and if I have to be the one to socialize you, I will.”

The serious tone of his voice plus firsthand knowledge of how crafty Mokuba could be when he wanted (Seto would never forget the pancake batter in his shampoo incident) made Seto wary to call his bluff. Taking his hands off the computer leaning back in his chair, he breathed out as loudly as possible to communicate that he was not a fan of Mokuba’s demands but that he would do it anyway.

“Good, it’s settled. Remember, you don’t have to be nice, just polite.” There was too much satisfaction in his little brother’s voice and Seto could feel the smug smile through the phone.

“If you’re lucky I might be cordial.” He huffed as Mokuba hung up, his last words to not be late and for the love of god don’t wear that trenchcoat.

Presently, Seto was replaying the conversation as the car slowed to the front of Yugi’s apartment complex. In hindsight, he should’ve just moved his deck and maybe left the country until Mokuba’s annoyance wore off to avoid any pranks that would ensue, changed his phone number so no one could contact him, then reappear in a Blue-Eyes themed blaze of glory with a new tournament or the schematics for a new virtual reality game that would prove his solitude was an asset rather than a detriment.

Socialization. Mokuba and Roland were enough socialization for him, plus there were the other executives and his assistant and he answered all his emails personally. He was very well-adjusted and had plenty of human contact, the fact that most of it was through technological means notwithstanding.

“Call if you need anything, Mr. Kaiba.” Roland waved as Seto stepped out of the car.

“I need you to take me home.” Seto adjusted his tie, looking at his scowling reflection in the car window. He may have not worn the trenchcoat, but he would be damned if he didn’t go out looking like he was ready to crush whatever mere mortal dared speak to him.

“Not until ten.” Roland laughed as Seto glared. Of course he and Mokuba were co-conspirators. Fondly, Seto remembered a time when Roland would shatter under his anger. “It’s three hours, Seto. If you can last through a conference call with Pegasus you can make nice with the nerd herd—” here Roland took his hands off the wheel to emphatically do air-quotes “—long enough to appease Mokuba and maybe even enjoy yourself.”

Scandalized, Seto slammed the car door as loud as he could and whipped around, ignoring the muffled from the car. “You’re fired!” he yelled as Roland drove away, causing a woman walking her dog across the street to turn her head and fix him with a raised eyebrow.

He hadn’t even made it into the party or whatever the fuck this thing was before he felt like strangling the next person that spoke to him. This was a prime example as to why Mokuba’s plan to socialize him like a feral cat fresh from the shelter was ill-conceived and probably a torture method banned by the Genera Convention.

Why hadn’t he just moved his deck and left the country?

Thinking of how this torture would most likely buy him another sixty days of Mokuba not plotting to kill him via friendship, he squared his shoulders and steadied his breathing. Polite. Mokuba said he had to be polite, not nice or friendly and his little brother had certainly not demanded he enjoyed himself. Roland had only said that to get a rise out of him and god damn had it worked.

Apartment B23—god when was the last time he’d even set foot in an apartment? Probably when he visited Mokuba a few months ago. Seto had taken about five steps into the dorm room and promptly decided that the cramped space and plastic mattresses and general lack of anything that would provide privacy deemed it unlivable. How Mokuba lived with a roommate he would never begin to understand.

It wasn’t difficult to find Yugi’s apartment, the too-loud music a veritable death omen. Steeling himself and forcing his face into a neutral expression, he rapped on the door and waited with bated breath.

The door swung open, and Seto saw the spiky, obscenely gelled hair of his sworn rival. “Kaiba!” Yugi’s voice was so cheery and genuinely happy that Seto almost felt bad for writing off this evening as a waste of time.

Almost.

“Come on in!” Stepping out of the way so Seto could enter, Yugi hollered his arrival over the music. “Kaiba’s here, everyone!”

Seto was afraid of who “everyone” was.

“It’s so great that you could come,” Yugi was smiling and Seto found it in him to politely smile back, not a real smile but enough to appease the shorter man. “Mokuba’s already here—let’s get you a drink and join the party!”

“I’m not drinking nasty cheap beer.”

Fuck. That was not polite or cordial.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen Yugi in a while since Mokuba was the one who was unironically friends with their little group, but he expected the other to give him a disappointed look and lecture him on how he should be nicer and open to friendship and all that. Instead, Yugi simply laughed and beckoned Seto to follow him to the kitchen.

Well alright.

The unmistakable voices of Tristan and Duke grew louder as he ventured deeper into the apartment, which certainly meant Wheeler was lurking around some corner ready to nip at his heels like the annoying mutt he was. He had already been rude to Yugi, and though that had been met with laughter (why were all of his scathing remarks not landing today he wondered) Wheeler would certainly try and fight him—physically and/or verbally. Mokuba would not be happy with him if he couldn’t resist the temptation and Seto knew his little brother would be watching him the whole night.

He couldn’t believe his little brother now doubled as his babysitter.

“Okay, so,” Yugi opened the fridge. “There’s beer in here—obviously Tristan brought the Natty but there’s a variety in there if you want. There’s white wine too, just don’t touch the Riesling, that’s Téa’s. Mai bought some really fancy stuff I can’t pronounce—basically we have everything.”

“Thanks.” Seto said. If Mai was here then there would be at least one person he could tolerate. “You went all out, I see.”

“I had to, it’s Téa and Joey’s welcome back party.” Yugi beamed. “They flew in from New York yesterday and we haven’t seen them in person in so long we had to celebrate.”

A welcome back party? Mokuba had mentioned that Wheeler had left for whatever reason, but Seto had assumed it was a permanent situation. Why on earth would Mokuba require he go to a party in Wheeler’s honor?

“I’ll be in the living room!” Yugi made his exit, leaving Seto alone in the kitchen.

Grabbing a plastic wine glass, which is something he’d never though he’d do ever in his life, Seto went straight for the wine Mai brought as she had an above average taste in pretty much everything. Maybe if he started with the quality alcohol he could stomach drinking the shitty stuff when he got buzzed.

Pouring himself a generous glass, Seto stared at the buttery yellow color of the wine and immediately decided that if he were going to get through this night he needed to get a head start.

He would never admit this even on pain of death, but he shotgunned that wine like a frat boy during hell week, not even bothering to enjoy the taste. He then poured another, more reasonable glass and took great comfort in the fact no one would be the wiser.

“—and then—shut the fuck up Duke you don’t get to tell the story—then this shithead tells me that no open containers in the pit and I’m all ‘if you give me two fucking seconds this drink will be gone’ and he threw me out!”

Seto took a long sip of wine.

“Hey, look who’s here!” Duke cut off a very inebriated Tristan who was still trying to continue the story. “Look at that, Seto Kaiba himself drinking out a plastic glass.”

“Take a picture, Devlin.” Seto quipped.

“I just might—I’ll even tag you in it.” Duke laughed and Seto felt like he’d been robbed once again of engaging in verbal fisticuffs. “Scoot over, asshole—Kaiba you can sit here.”

“So you can spill your drink on him?” Mai said, and Kaiba was relieved to see that there was a spot next to her on the loveseat. “I saved you a spot, Seto.”

“Thank you,” he said, and he truly did mean it.

“Why do you get to call him by his first name?” Tristan took a long sip of that nasty canned shit that was closer to cat piss than beer.

“Because I don’t test his patience like you do,” Mai returned, smiling over the edge of her glass. “And I beta test all the VR technology.”

Seto surveyed the room as they traded banter over who could call him what. Mokuba wasn’t in the room, which was surprising given that there wasn’t a lot of other places to be. It did seem that there was a balcony, and Wheeler’s little sister—god rest that child’s soul for having to share genetic material with that dog—was standing out there, talking to someone he couldn’t see. Tristan, Duke, Yugi, and Bakura were all crammed onto the couch, meaning that Wheeler, Téa, and Mokuba were the only ones unaccounted for.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one that dressed up.” Mai held out her own plastic wine glass for a toast. “Yugi said it was casual but I never learned the meaning of that word.”

Seto tapped his glass against hers, the toast not as satisfying since there was no clink but he wouldn’t say no to drinking more. That first glass he’d downed was starting to make his cheeks heat up but he was not nearly buzzed enough to take the edge off.

“Téa!” Tristan called, and Seto looked over his shoulder to see her emerging from the bathroom. “Can you get me another beer pretty please?”

“I thought this was supposed to be my party.” Téa rolled her eyes in a manner Seto was actually impressed by. He remembered her as the annoying little cheerleader on the sidelines at their duels, somehow getting into every tournament despite never being invited. Maybe her time in New York had shaped her into more than a megaphone for friendship speeches.

“It is, that’s why I need more beer.” Tristan countered, pointing finger guns at her and earning him a laugh. “Thank you Téa, I love you!”

Gross. Seto drank again.

The conversation and music blended into white noise around him. Tristan and Duke were telling another story, cutting each other off every other word and being generally loud. If Seto were inclined to such things he might find it amusing. Yugi and Bakura were laughing and asking questions like their story wasn’t just a retelling of some boneheaded drunken scheme and needed elaboration and explanation. Téa came back with the beer and her own drink before settling down next to Yugi on the already cramped couch, the two of them sharing a smile before Yugi laid his arm around her shoulders and kissed her.

Oh. Gross. Seto finished his wine and tried to forget he’d witnessed that.

“Where’s our other guest of honor?” Seto asked Mai. He wasn’t sure why he was even interested in knowing. He blamed it on the alcohol.

“Outside with Mokuba and Serenity.”

Serenity. That was the sister’s name. Seto tried to remember that in case he had to talk to her later.

As if on cue, the door to the balcony slid open. Mokuba and Serenity came through first, followed by the faint smell of cigarette smoke and then Wheeler.

Holy shit. Was that really Wheeler?

“Kaiba took your spot, Joey.” Tristan said.

“Guess I’m gonna hafta sit on your lap then.” Joey was still loud as ever, with his stupid accent and stupid hair and stupid face.

What was definitely not stupid was how he looked—Seto remembered him as this gangly little fucker that was the only person in the room the same height as him and never knew his place, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and knockoff sneakers making it look like he’d rolled out of bed seconds before leaving the house. Now, Wheeler was even taller—probably taller than Seto though he was loathe to even think about it—and he was tanned like he’d spent day after day working outside (here Seto glanced down at his hands and was smacked in the face by how pale he was), and his shoulders were broader and his he was much more muscular, the sleeves of his halfway unbuttoned gaudy Hawaiian shirt looking like they could barely contain his biceps.

The fashion could use some work. Wheeler looked like a white suburban dad in his Hawaiian shirt and jeans.

“Mai, you want anythin’ from th’ kitchen?” When the fuck had Wheeler crossed the room? Seto buried his nose in his cup and tried not to think of how he’d been appraising the mutt’s body.

“If you’re offering, you can grab the bottle I brought.” Mai held her cup out to him. “Try it, you might like it.”

“This what you and moneybags are drinkin’?”

Moneybags. Those were fighting words. Seto couldn’t help himself.

“What? Did you expect me to drink the same swill as you, mutt?”

God damn it. Now Mokuba, who had pulled up two chairs for Serenity and him to sit in, would know he’d not been “polite” or “cordial” or any variant thereupon.

The whole room interrupted in cheers and Seto was absolutely fucking floored.

“Take a drink!” Wheeler held up Mai’s wine and downed the rest of the glass, as did everyone else in the room, even Mokuba who looked like he could barely contain his laughter. “’Dere he is, same ol’ Kaiba.”

“What the fuck just happened?” Seto turned to Mai.

“When Joey found out you were coming he said we all drink whenever you call him a dog-themed insult.” Mai didn’t even try to hide her amusement. “So unless you want all of us to be absolutely hammered I would get creative.”

Slumping back into the cushions, Seto was inclined to throw a tantrum. Wheeler was supposed to return fire, not take their verbal sparring and make it into a goddamn drinking game.

Was he in the twilight zone? He had to be. This had to be a hallucination.

When Wheeler returned, he handed the bottle to Mai and made good on his promise to sit on Tristan’s lap. Seto’s head was still spinning as Mai poured him another glass so he didn’t even get to relish in Tristan pushing him onto the floor and pouncing on him, the two of them roughhousing like elementary schoolers.

“Let’s play a game!” Yugi turned down the music.

“Not Duel Monsters, a game we can all play together.” Téa added as Wheeler perked up from where he was pinned under Tristan. “This is my party too, Joey, don’t give me that look.”

“A’right, a’right. What’d you have in mind, T?” Wheeler shoved Tristan off of him and Seto tried not to think of muscles.

He couldn’t decide if he needed to drink more or stop drinking for the rest of his life.

Seto missed the discussion of what game they would play. He vaguely heard their voices but he was mostly focused on his wine and how he would never be able to show his face in public again if he kept these thoughts about Wheeler and his dumb broad shoulders and his dumb biceps and how his dumb hands looked so rough and strong and so unlike his own lily-white smooth ones.

Fuck. Seto drained his wine and set the cup firmly down. He needed to take a break and regain control over himself.

The nerd herd had decided they would play Monopoly. Seto had never played but it surely couldn’t be that difficult. Wheeler was positioned directly across from him, as if purposefully tempting Seto with the exposed skin of his chest—what had possessed that mutt to not button all the way up? Mere minutes after it had started, Seto broke his prohibition on drinking and poured himself another glass.

It was eight now. He only had to survive until ten, then he could call Roland and be spirited away.

Monopoly, as Seto soon discovered, was hell.

“I don’t understand how I’m supposed to win.” He groused. Mai’s wine was long since gone and they’d both had to move on to subpar red wine that only went down because Seto was riding the line between a strong buzz and drunk. “Anyone who gets Boardwalk is guaranteed victory.”

Bakura was the proud owner of a Boardwalk hotel. “Oh surely you can afford it, Kaiba.”

“If this were real money, then yeah, ‘course.” Seto begrudgingly handed over the money and crossed his arms tightly over his chest, well aware he resembled a child rather than the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company.

“C’mon moneybags, you can pull off the upset.” Wheeler chided him, laughing as he drank his Blue Moon, which was weirdly high quality for him. “If ya’ can’t what’ll ya’ shareholders think?”

“It’s not the same, Wheeler.” Seto had wisely refrained from dog-themed insults.

“Okay, I seriously have to pee.” Duke interrupted. “Let’s take five and then we can go back to humiliating Kaiba.”

A break sounded like a good idea. Seto regretted wearing business casual, as between the alcohol and the long sleeves he was sweltering. Extricating himself from the loveseat and gingerly stepping over Yugi and Téa, who were sitting next to each other and holding hands under the coffee table and being generally gross and affectionate, he made his way to the balcony. His legs were a bit wobbly from sitting down so long, the alcohol not helping, but he kept himself relatively composed as he slid the door open and stepped out.

It was blessedly cool outside. He closed the door behind him and stepped to the railing, leaning on it and enjoying the feeling of the night air. The last time he’d looked at the clock it was eight, and as he pulled out his phone to check it he was surprised it was a quarter to ten.

Huh. That hadn’t felt like almost two hours.

Behind him, the door opened and shut. Seto turned around to see Wheeler holding two plates, an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

Oh god.

“Yain’t eaten all night, rich boy. Here, have some cake.” Wheeler put a plate on the railing in front of him and pulled out a lighter.

“What the hell is this?”

“Never seen cake before?” Wheeler puffed on his cigarette and stabbed the cake with a plastic fork. Did Yugi not believe in real flatware?

“Of course I’ve seen cake before.” Seto contained the mutt at the end of his sentence. “Why did you bring me some? And since when the hell did you smoke?”

“I only smoke when I drink. Nothin’ compliments a night of drinkin’ like a nicotine buzz.” Wheeler smiled though a mouthful of cake and Seto wanted to reprimand him for being so uncouth but his alcohol-addled mind could only think of how disgustingly cute he looked with frosting on the corner of his mouth. “An’ to answer ya’ other question, I brought ya’ some because you and Mai been guzzling drinks all night and neither one of ya’s eaten. I ain’t cleanin’ up vomit at my own party, moneybags. Plus, Téa makes the best chocolate cake.”

Seto looked down at the confection precariously placed on the railing, eyeing it with suspicion. Had Wheeler actually done something nice for him? Now that he was looking at food, he realized he actually hadn’t eaten since breakfast this morning and it would be a good idea to eat. No other reason.

Silence fell over the balcony as Wheeler smoked his cancer stick and they ate their cake. Seto was pleasantly surprised. Wheeler hadn’t been lying about Téa’s baking abilities. Unlike Wheeler, who had shoveled in the cake like he was a prisoner on death row and it was his last meal, Seto exercised some restraint, eating in neat, careful bites.

It was strange how quiet Wheeler was being. Seto had never been within a hundred feet of the guy without the two of them berating each other, which would culminate in a duel that Seto would win and Wheeler would vow to win the next one. It was their ritual and Seto didn’t know what to make of this amicable silence between them.

Just as Seto was beginning to feel comfortable with the silence, Wheeler spoke.

“Would ya’ believe me if I said I missed ya’?”

Seto choked.

“’M gonna take that as a no.” Wheeler thumped his back and Seto tried not to think of how big the mutt’s hands were as they rested between his shoulder blades. “’Das my fault rich boy, didn’t mean t’ make ya’ choke.”

“Then what did you mean to do? Give me a heart attack perhaps?” Seto spat, violently ignoring how heat, blush heat not alcohol heat, was in his cheeks and how Wheeler’s big dumb stupid warm hand was still on his back.

“I apologized, Kaiba. Didn’t know ya’d react like that.” Wheeler was smiling, his eyes holding an indiscernible look. Seto remembered there used to be only anger when Wheeler looked his way and desperately wished this was all a cosmic joke because there were too many new variables. Seto Kaiba had two emotions: disappointment and rage. When it came to Mokuba there were more, but Wheeler was not Mokuba and he didn’t get the benefit of Seto’s emotional range. Wheeler wasn’t angry though. If Seto had to put a name to what he saw in Wheeler’s eyes it would have to be fondness.

Disgusting. The mutt couldn’t just look at him like that.

Seto thought back to how this party was a violation of the Geneva Convention.

“It’s true, though.” Wheeler continued, moving his hand to Seto’s shoulder and suddenly the night air wasn’t so cool anymore. “I did miss ya’ Kaiba.”

Did Wheeler think this was some Nicolas Sparks novel? Did Wheeler expect him to say he missed him too?

“Why are you telling me this?” Seto asked, his gut twisting, the chocolate cake threatening to come back up. What. The. Fuck. He hadn’t seen Wheeler in forever and now because he’d come back with sunkissed skin and broad shoulders and thick muscles and Seto’s emotions were threatening to get the better of him? Un-fucking-believable. It had to the be the alcohol.

“I dunno actually. I just wanted ya’ to know. Back in th’ day we’d be at each other’s throats and I missed you and ya’ snarky attitude and ya’ dumbass trenchcoat and that godawful dragon jet. There ain’t nobody quite like you Seto Kaiba.” Wheeler squeezed his shoulder and smiled and Seto felt like he was staring into the sun. Seto fought to keep his face neutral and thought about how he was going to shave Mokuba’s head in his sleep for making him come to this stupid party and making him see stupid Wheeler and have stupid fucking emotions he never should’ve had in the first place.

“Ya’ don’ have to say anythin’ back. Just wanted ya’ to know that and that I’m glad ya’ could come tonight. You’re a sight for sore eyes, Kaiba.” Wheeler dropped his hand from Seto’s shoulder and Seto desperately wished that he didn’t want to grab it and put it back. The mutt gathered their empty plates and fixed Seto with another smile. “C’mon, we got a game to finish.”

“I’ll be inside in a minute.” Seto said, angry he lacked the normal acerbic edge to his voice.

Wheeler closed the door behind him and Seto could hear muffled voices welcoming his return. What the ever loving fuck had just happened?

His phone buzzing shocked him out of his reverie. Roland was calling.

Placing the phone to his ear and leaning heavily on the balcony, Seto answered. “What?” he spat, still not happy with the man from his earlier quip.

“It’s five past ten Mr. Kaiba. You ready for me to come pick you up?”

Retrospectively, Seto should’ve known that’s what Roland was calling about. He looked over his shoulder into Yugi’s apartment, and could see they were all talking and laughing and Wheeler had Yugi in a headlock and they all looked happy. Maybe it was because of the alcohol, maybe because there seemed to be no more bad blood from days long past, maybe it was because Seto Kaiba really had nothing better to do tonight, but he wanted to go back in to Yugi’s quaint little apartment and maybe have a few more drinks and maybe try to win that godforsaken Monopoly game.

“Actually, Roland, I think I’ll stay a bit longer. You might say I’m enjoying myself.”