#I guess part of it is historically I’ve gotten my hopes Too high before and got sorta psychologically torn down when they arent receptive

[seilon]

in the past I’ve always been more or less eager to talk to a therapist after just getting one but this time for whatever reason I just feel a weird sense of dread

[cup-of-starlight-waters]

No offense, but how old are you? In your early 20s? There were no such things as scanning or pdf files in the 70s. I grew up in the 90s and can remember a time before them.

A later reblog of the Sir Gawain post addresses this, but how editing stuff on tumblr (and who can see what versions) confuses me, so I’m not surprised a number of people haven’t seen it. I’ve gotten a few comments/messages about it, so I guess I’ll address it again.

Honestly, it was just a mistake. I typed up the story in the immediate emotional high of finding the book, without thinking too hard about the timing and what kind of copying they’d be doing in the 70s. I’m young enough that I grew up with household desktops, and while I am intellectually aware that pdfs (and in particular, the ability to scan something to a pdf file) were a much later development, that change in technology wasn’t a significant part of my lived experience as a kid, while scanning things and computer use very much is part of my current experience as a professional. So I fell back on the language I’m used to using, rather than the less specific and more historically accurate “copied”. I know that there eventually was a scanned-to-pdf version of the story, and presumably the terrible quality of the scan was because of several rounds of intermediary photocopying between the pdf and whatever form the original copy was (whether it be xeroxing or mimeographing—I didn’t exactly interrogate Ms. English about the exact details of her copying methods, and my knowledge of her part of the story is second-or-third hand).

I am sorry to anyone who was pained by the inaccuracy, and I hope it did not detract too much from my purpose in telling the story in the first place: the celebration of a modern-day literary quest, a shared love of literature, and a desire to give credit where credit is due.

To anyone who has not yet seen the second part of the story, and does not care to, the translator’s name is George B. Pace.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

Beth’s Template in S11

Okay Bethyl Enthusiasts! Here goes!

I’ve been promising to talk to you about exactly what I think will happen in S11 with Beth’s arc, and that’s what I’m going to do today. I’ve had a basic idea of things for a while, now, but these bonus episodes and their epic symbolism have really kicked things into high gear. They’ve helped me see things more clearly and even helped give me a more definitely (disclaimer: though still somewhat fluid) timeline for how/when it will all happen.

So, of course we all hoped to see her in ep 22. But if he we had, it would have had to have been in a coda. Like a preview of some kind. Because they didn’t quite get to the part of the story where I’m expecting to see her. But I’ll get into that in more detail.

So, we’ve been saying for a while that we think she’ll come through Eugene’s storyline, so that’s what I’ll be focusing on here. Because that’s specifically what I think we’ll see in S11. @wdway has found a TON of Beth symbolism around Eugene. She did most of her investigating and reporting over the long, CoVid hiatus, but I haven’t gotten around to posting much of it. Maybe I still will. We’ll see. There’s been so much to talk about lately.

Let me also state that, while I firmly believe we’ll see Beth in S11, I don’t think we’ll get to the point where Daryl will see her. And yes, that kinda sucks. But they probably won’t have their reunion until the spinoff. I know the Bethyl reunion is what we’re all waiting for, but hey, at least once we see her, we’ll know it’s coming, right?

So let’s start by going through the relevant template.

I’ve mentioned parts of this before, so I apologize if any part of it is repetitive. But it will help you if  you understand not just what I believe we’ll see, but why.

So, let’s return to 6x08/09. At the end of 6x07,  the church fell and all the walkers got into Alexandria. Eugene ends up in a garage with Tara and Rosita. They can’t get into the house connected to the garage because the dividing door is locked. After a discussion between the two ladies about whether they’re going to give up hope or else “do something,” Eugene offers to pick the lock and they get inside.

Inside, Morgan was keeping Creepy Wolf Dude (who I’ll abbreviate CWD) in the basement. He brought Denise (Beth proxy) in to patch up his injury, which she does. Carol wants to kill CWD and tries, but Morgan stops her. He’s on his “all life is precious” kick and ends up body slamming Carol, so she passes out. But when his back is turned, CWD also hits him over the head, so Carol and Morgan are both down for the count.

Just then, Eugene, Rosita and Tara enter, but CWD takes Denise hostage and leaves.

Everyone with me?

Okay, let’s start with Denise. Because of the way she died, Daryl’s reaction to her death, and AALLLLLL the Beth symbolism around her, she’s clearly a proxy for Beth. So what I’m going to argue is that this little sequence is a foreshadow and template for how she’ll be reintroduced into the show. Notice how Daryl isn’t present in any of these scenes. So again, this is how we, the audience will see her. Not how Daryl will first see her. Kapish? Okay.

So, I think Eugene unlocking the door to a new place represents him finding or “unlocking” a new community. Kinda like the one he, Yumiko, Zeke, and Princess are now in the process of discovering.

How did we come up with that? I honestly don’t remember in detail. Like I said, it’s something we’ve discussed for a long time. I think we started with Denise=Beth and worked backward from there. It kind of feels like out of all the members of TF, Eugene will see her first, but then she’ll be taken away from him right away.

Now, he’s in the midst of discovering new people/a new community. A few other pieces of evidence for this:

1)      Before they run into the garage, right after the church falls, Eugene gets on the radio and calls for help. Remember, Daryl hears him? So that parallels to Eugene talking with Stephanie via the radio.

2)      If you go through the dialogue of Rosita and Tara in this scene and compare it to dialogue in the scene in 10x16 between Yumiko and Ezekiel (the scene where his horse dies) the parallels are ridiculous. They aren’t the exact same lines of dialogue, but the meanings and chronology of it is almost exact.

3)      In terms of Denise = Beth, before she patches up Creepy Wolf Dude, she says to him, “show me the wound.” In Rick’s dream in 9x05, we heard Beth’s voice say, “What’s your wound?” It’s almost like they were trying to show us that Denise = Beth and that this template would play out with her return.

Okay, I hope that’s all clear. Shit’s about to get really interesting.

Before we continue, I want to remind you of THIS POST I did about 5x09. If you haven’t read it, I suggest doing so. I talk about the radio voice in 5x09 and how it talks about “attacks against the republic.” We couldn’t have known what that meant before, but now it’s clear that it’s a foreshadow of the CRM and the CRM war, which won’t happen until the spinoff.

It’s super interesting because Andrew Lincoln was the radio voice (he’s currently with the CRM) but he has his English accent. (I’ll tell you why that’s important in a minute. It wasn’t a casual or irrelevant choice on the writers’ parts.) So if that suggests Rick being with the CRM, which he is, it’s kind of interesting that Beth’s voice, singing “Struggling Man” also comes out of the radio at first, before we see her sitting there singing it. That suggests that she, too, will be with the CRM and part of the CRM war. None of Ty’s other death hallucinations spoke from the radio. I’m just saying.

The voice there even mentioned brutal attacks against the republic, including setting people on fire and hacking them with machetes. And that’s important because that’s just what the wolves did at Alexandria, and in the above template, we have CWD taking Denise (Beth). So it’s all interconnected.

But even so, I’ve had a hard time nailing down what it means and what the story line will actually be when Beth return.

Enter episode 10x21 and @bluesandbeth​’s inspired research.

In ep 21, Carol snoops around in Daryl’s room and finds the book “The Golden Age of Piracy.” Now, I’ll admit I didn’t look into this reference very extensively because I THOUGHT I knew what it meant. We had a “pirates” reference between Daryl and Carol in 10x01, when they first discussed leaving together on his bike. Since we already know they’ll be leaving together for the spinoff, that conversation was a foreshadow of what will happen in the spinoff. And if you’ve been following my posts,  you know that I see their whole arc in the bonus episodes (6x18 and 6x21) as a foreshadow of that same story line. So to me it was just another confirmation of the spinoff arc.

Then @bluesandbeth contacted me because she’d been looking into the Golden Age of Piracy book. She looked up the author and found out some interesting things. This author is real and basically wrote two kinds of historical books. (X) Books about piracy, and books about the American Revolutionary War. The author wrote a book called Greene and Cornwallis. (X)

Yikes! Yes, Greene is a real person and a patriot who stood against Cornwallis in the Revolutionary War. But what are the chances the writers use an author who just happens to have written a book with Beth’s last name in the title?

Historically, Nathaneal Greene was George Washington’s top general and right hand man during the war. I’ll come back to him. For now, it’s enough that he shares Beth’s last name.

I immediately hopped online to see what @bluesandbeth​ was seeing and look for more. And boy did I stumble upon a treasure trove!

I noticed a second book by this author called Swamp Fox. (Full title is Francis Marion: Swamp Fox.)

Now, you may wonder why that caught my attention. It’s not anything I ever posted about. It has to do with Leah. While me and my fellow theorists were discussing her and episode 10x18 endlessly, we noticed that Leah often wore a fox-fur scarf:

We conjectured back and forth about what it meant. Foxes, just like most animals, can have many different symbolic meanings depending on what culture you’re looking at. They’re often seen as sneaky and wily and deceptive, so we wondered if it was a reference to the writers “deceiving” us because Leah is a hallucination. But that was about the best we could come up with.

Well, when I saw the title of Swamp Fox, I immediately thought of Leah. And of course symbolically, Leah = Beth. So I decided to investigate.

And guess what? When I started reading about the Swamp Fox book, all the stuff from the S6 template above and the 5x09 stuff about Beth being part of the CRM war started clicking into place so fast, it made my head spin.

The Swamp Fox is about Francis Marion, a real man and patriot who also fought against the British during the American Revolutionary war. He’s the guy Mel Gibson’s character in The Patriot is based on. He faced down Cornwallis (one of the main British generals during the American Revolution) and was awesome at guerilla tactics and staying hidden. You know, in the swamp. Hence, they called him Swamp Fox.

Does that sound familiar to you? Think about what Andy Lincoln/Radio Voice said in 5x09 about Guerilla warfare and attacks against the Republic. You could describe Francis Marion’s military career any better if you tried.

And then I went to Wikipedia to look up general information on Marion and pictures of the British flag are all over the place.

Okay, this is another thing that won’t be very familiar to you because I haven’t focused on it much. In one of the episodes of TWB, Julia Ormond’s character is at home and we see a huge British flag hanging on her wall. Not surprising, given that she’s British. But it was such a huge, blatant symbol, and the camera focused on it for so long, that we figured it had to mean something. We just didn’t know what. The best we could figure is the colors (blue and red) and the fact that there’s both a huge X and a T/cross on the British flag.

Well, I now know what that symbol represents in TWD world. Reading about Marion and seeing the British flag on his Wikipedia page made it all make sense to me.

In short, Francis Marion, a.k.a. The Swamp Fox = Beth. She’s going to be the second-in-command general/guerilla warfare expert against the CRM. That’s why they had all that stuff in 5x09 when we saw her and heard her sing. The reason for the British flag is that Julia Ormond’s character = Cornwallis.

Read up on Francis Marion HERE.

(This is also why I said it’s important that in 5x09, they had Andrew Lincoln use is British accent for the radio broadcast. It’s meant to be from the point of view of the CRM, which symbolically represent the British in the template.)

So they’re using the American Revolution as a loose template for how the CRM war will go.

Back to Nathaneal Greene of Greene and Cornwallis? Yeah, same thing. Greene was George Washington’s direct under-general and right-hand man. Kind of like a…second or new sheriff? In the CRM war, George Washington = Rick and Nathaneal Greene = um, Greene (Beth).

More on Nathaneal Greene HERE.

But here’s the thing. None of that is going to happen until the spinoff. So why am I talking about it for S11? Well, it has to do with Charleston.

You can look this up on Wikipedia for more details, but Charleston was an event that was huge for Francis Marion. It was Charleston, South Carolina in that case. And it was a stronghold that the colonists were holding against the British. Then one day, the British attacked and took everyone there as prisoners of war. Marion WAS stationed there at the time, but he wasn’t there when the attack happened because he’d BROKEN HIS ANKLE in an accident and left the city to recuperate.

Okay. Anyone recognize Charleston in terms of Eugene or TWD world?

When talking to Stephanie over the radio, he got her to finally tell him where her settlement was. Any guesses? Charleston.

Now, in this case, it’s Charleston, West Virginia, but I don’t think it’s any coincidence that the writers went with the same name, even if it’s a different state.

So, here’s how I think it will play out.

I don’t think Stephanie’s group is actually the Commonwealth, or at least not the major, Commonwealth city everyone knows from the comic books. They DO have the white storm trooper guys, so I think they’re linked to the CW somehow. Like maybe they’re a branch of the CW in the same way Grady might have been an outlying branch—or at least in communication with—the CRM.

So again, maybe they’re PART of the CW, but they’re not living with the main group.

So, I think Eugene’s group will be taken to Charleston in S11 (that should happen next) and they will see Beth there. I have no idea if Eugene will recognize her or not. Given that we still don’t know what went down during the missing 17 days after Coda, and Eugene was hurt, we don’t know if he actually saw Beth at all or if he was out during that time. I’ve agonized over this a lot, but understanding this new template, I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t really matter. Maybe he’ll recognize her. Maybe he won’t. But either way, he’s not going to be in the same place with her for long.

I think soon after Charleston will be attacked. Now, historically, it was by the British, right? And because Julia Ormond’s character = Cornwallis, it’s got to be the CRM who attack Charleston. And we’ve seen them do this with other communities in TWB, so it makes sense.

But here’s where I had the S6 template wrong for a long time. Because CWD takes Denise, I thought a group would attack Stephanie’s community and take prisoners, and Beth would be taken with them, while Eugene and the others were left behind. 

But because of the Marion/Swamp Fox/Charleston thing, I think the opposite is true. Sounds like Eugene and co will be taken as prisoners by the CRM. Why did they do it the opposite way in S6? Because they couldn’t have had all the Alexandrians taken and Denise left behind. It just wouldn’t have worked for that S6 storyline. The point is mostly the separation. Eugene gets into a new place, briefly sees her, and then they’re separated.

So Charleston will be attacked and all the people (probably including Eugene, Yumiko, and Zeke) get captured by the CRM. If Beth is Marion, then she won’t be there when it happens.

I’m wondering if she’ll be out in the woods, hunting or getting supplies or something, and this is where she’ll step in the bear trap, injuring her ankle. That would fulfill all the bear trap symbolism around her, including Alone when she stepped in the small game trap. Just a guess on my part, but I think it’s highly likely.

Even if I’m wrong about that detail, I think she’ll be away from the Charleston community, just as Marion was, when the CRM captures the people there.

This is why it doesn’t really matter whether Eugene recognizes her or not. If he doesn’t, and they don’t realize they know the same people, she won’t know that Maggie and Daryl are (relatively) nearby. I think at this point she’ll go to try and rescue the people from the community who were captured (if she’s been with them for awhile, there are probably people there she cares about) and that’s how she’ll run into Rick and first cross paths with the CRM.

She and Daryl will meet down the road at a later date.

Even if Eugene DOES recognize her and she knows about TF, I still think she’s going to go try and rescue her friends before attempting to go to D.C. because they’re in more immediate danger and she’ll have some loyalty to them.

So, this is what I think we’ll see in S11. And I have no idea where it will cut off. Maybe the last thing we’ll see with Eugene in S11 is the fall of Charleston. Or maybe that will happen in episode 2. I really have no idea.

But I’m going to mention one other thing before I stop for today. I know this is getting wrong.

Who is Creepy Wolf Dude in this template? I mean, the wolves attacked Alexandria, so we could assume it’s just the CRM, and maybe a particular person in the CRM. Might be.

But rewatching 6x08, something caught my ear.

Morgan and Carol were arguing about whether or not to kill Creepy Wolf Dude, right? She keeps saying he needs to die. Morgan keeps saying no. And then we have a really interesting conversation.

Carol (talking about wolves): They made us kill. We had to stop it. I had to stop it.

Morgan: Where there’s life, there’s possibility. Even if we never let him out—

CWD: I’d get out.

Morgan (talking over him): Even if we never let him out, he could know what he’s done.

Who else killed and made TF kill? And rather than killing this person, they put him into a cell, vowing never to let him out. But he got out?

Negan! They’re basically talking about Negan’s fate after AOW here.

And guys, that’s CRAZY. I think CWD = Negan.

And I have more evidence for this.

In the TTD after 5x09, I remember that Nicotero was on it. And they were talking about how intrigued CWD was by Denise. I think it was Chris who said something like (and I paraphrase), “I guess it wouldn’t be right to say he fell in love with her or anything…”

And Nicotero corrected him and said CWD kinda did fall in love with Denise. Maybe not in a lifelong, deep, abiding love like we see with Bethyl/Glaggie/Richonne/Etc., but he’d never met anyone like her and he was intrigued by her. He fell in love with her as much as a killer like him could fall in love with someone.

Then, in 7x16, we had Sasha’s death. We went on and on about all the Beth symbolism around Sasha in that episode. It was ridiculous! Kind of like these bonus episodes had been. And Negan…kinda liked Sasha. I mean, I don’t think anyone would have described it as falling in love, but he liked and respected her. Said she had beach-ball-sized lady nuts and he truly respected her and was sad to see her die.

So I think these are both templates that point to what will happen next.

(BTW, Eugene was present for a LOT of Sasha’s final episodes.)

The main reason we always thought Beth would show up with the Saviors is because of the Negan (bat, actually) symbolism around her. But if she and Negan have a major arc together or interaction later on, all of that will suddenly make sense.

So again, I’m not sure if we’ll see this in S11 or if it will come later, but I think after Charleston falls, Negan and Beth will somehow meet (maybe he leaves the communities at some point) and have a lot of scenes and episodes together.

All right. I’ll stop there. Do I know any of this for certain? Of course not. As always, it’s subject to change. Especially the details. And the instant I see anything that changes my thinking or makes me realize I interpreted something wrong, I’ll let you know.

But my biggest point is that this really SHOULD be the next thing we see with Eugene’s group. Of course, this is TWD and it might still take us 8 or 10 or more episodes to get there as they have a lot of things to focus on S11. But it’s coming. And soon.

Remember that S11 is scheduled to start in June. So we don’t have long to wait. (Yay!)

Thoughts?

[mischiefandspirits]

Doppelgänger (19/19)

Previously on Doppelgänger ~ Masterlist ~ Next time on Doppelgänger

Danny, Sam, and Tucker were just 14 when they took a look inside the portal Danny’s parents had built. From there, everything changed. They woke up with white hair, green skin, and powers they could learn to control. They were hybrids, halfas.

They were the hero Doppelgänger.

{Identity Crisis, Part 2}

Danny melted onto Valerie’s hoverboard with a sigh as she kissed him. She was kneeling between his legs with one of her arms braced next to his head to hold her weight off him while the hand of the other snuck under his shirt to stroke his side. His own hands were occupied with holding her close and running through her long curly hair.

They were hovering high above Amity, partially hidden within some low clouds. They’d been admiring the view and taking in the afternoon sun when they’d gotten a bit distracted.

Valerie chuckled into the kiss and pulled back. She gave his limp form a pleased look then ducked down to pepper his neck with kisses.

Of course, that was when his ghost sense went off.

I’m going to kill whoever it is, Danny thought as Valerie’s scanner started ringing and she pulled away.

“There’s a ghost right beneath us,” Valerie growled, glaring at the scanner before giving Danny an apologetic look.

“Well, I guess that’s what we get for mixing dates with patrol,” he chuckled with a shrug.

She glanced down. “It should be fine to leave it to Doppelgänger.”

He sat up to look down as well, his hair hiding the red shine in his eyes. He spotted a glowing laptop flying down a road.

Ugh, who let Technus out? He reached out for his partners, but neither responded. He looked around to be sure neither of them was in sight and said, “They don’t seem to be here. Should probably make sure the ghost doesn’t cause trouble before they can get here.”

“Yeah.” She pulled up her mask and he braced himself as she brought them down. “Sorry about this.”

“It’s fine, Val. Really.” Jazz is definitely going to kick his butt if she found out about this, though.

Valerie dropped him off in an alley before shooting off after the laptop.

Who let Technus out? Danny asked again as he transformed and flew after her.

Tech-Oh shoot! Tucker hissed. He’s why my laptop was running slow! He must have been stuck in my cache. My bad!

Well, that explains why he’s flying around inside a laptop.

Want some help? Sam asked.

Valerie’s already on the scene, Danny pointed out.

Right, I forgot you guys were on a date.

DON’T LET HER DESTROY MY LAPTOP! Tucker shouted.

Danny turned a corner to see Valerie trying to blast the laptop. We’ll try.

He tried to sneak around the fight so he could try to knock Technus out, but was distracted when Valerie got wrapped in the laptop’s cord.

“Red!” he shouted, shooting towards her to pull her free. He looked her over for injuries. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she huffed and shoved herself out of his grip as her board swung around to catch her.

“Well now, this is interesting.”

The two turned back to Technus just as the laptop stopped glowing and fell. Danny darted over to grab it before it could hit the ground, then looked around for the ghost.

“My scanner is only picking up you,” Valerie said and Danny checked the computer.

Wireless transfer complete.

“Ugh, he sent himself somewhere else,” Danny groaned.

“Well, you’re the one with technokinesis. I’ll leave you to it.”

“What?” He looked up to see Valerie turning away. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”

“I’ve got a date.”

“Well crud,” Danny muttered. He shoved the laptop into the fold and dove into the ground, flying as fast as he could back to the alley Valerie had left him in. Good news and bad news. Good news, our laptop’s fine and Val’s leaving. Bad news, we lost Technus and Val’s leaving him to us because we’ve got tech powers and she wants to continue our date.

The irony, Sam sighed.

I can’t leave right now. Kiran and I are right in the middle of a debate on which generation of Pokémon is the best, Tucker said.

Kiran? Danny asked, popping up in the alley and transforming back just before Valerie could come around the corner.

This really really cute freshman in the computer club. They’re a gamer who’s building their own PC, they’ve got the hottest smile, and I refuse to let Technus blow this for me!

An unimpressed feeling came from Sam. I’ll take care of Technus. Clearly, your love lives are more important.

“You okay?” Danny asked Valerie. Sorry, Sam. I can tell Val I need to go.

“Yeah, it’s a tech ghost so Doppelgänger’s taking care of it.”

No, it’s fine, Sam said. You’ve ducked out of dates for us plenty of times. You deserve some alone time. It wasn’t really you I was mad at.

“If you’re sure. What do you want to do now?” Danny asked, stepping up onto Val’s board.

I think my love life deserves more consideration than his, Tucker huffed. Since, you know, I DON’T HAVE ONE!

Valerie grabbed his waist and tugged him against her. “How about we find some privacy? We can head to my house since my dad’s working until midnight. We can cuddle and watch tv. I think there’s supposed to be an animated Batman marathon on.”

Danny tuned out his partners as he nodded. He shifted behind her and braced himself as she took off towards Elmerton. She flew up to her window and opened it, letting Danny climb through before slipping carefully in. She recalled her board and pulled down her mask.

The boy didn’t have a chance to react before she was scoping him up and setting him on her dresser so she could kiss him. Her hands slipped under his shirt and he tried to bring his own up, only to knock something off her dresser.

She snorted into the kiss and he mumbled, “Sorry,” as he wrapped his arms around her neck.

“Valerie?”

The two froze.

The door opened and Damon Gray poked his head inside. “I didn’t realize you were -”

Valerie jumped away from Danny while he squeaked and worked very hard not to turn invisible.

No matter how much he wanted to.

Valerie’s father looked at Valerie, then Danny, then Valerie’s suit.

“H-hey, Daddy. I thought you were supposed to be at work,” Valerie said nervously.

“I had a break so I came to grab something I’d forgotten. Fortunately.” He gave her a sharp look. “Get changed. We’re going to have a talk before I head back. Mr. Fenton, out.”

“Yessir.” Danny gave her a quick apologetic look before following Mr. Gray into the living area.

He froze when the man grabbed his shoulder. “I like you, Fenton. You’re a smart kid and you’ve got a good heart. However, if I ever catch you in my daughter’s room without my permission again, you will be reminded in a far more painful way than I’m doing now that I carry a loaded weapon for my job and I am trained to use it. Understand?”

“Yessir. Sorry, sir. I swear, we weren’t doing anything like, you know, that. We were just -”

“Out.”

“Yep, right, leaving!” Danny ran for the front door.

“And Danny,” Mr. Gray called before he could close it behind him. “I suggest you go straight home. I’ll be calling your parents as soon as I talk to Valerie.”

Danny flinched and nodded. “Right.”

As soon as he made it to the alley next to Valerie’s apartment building, he slumped against the wall and screamed into his hands. Then he transformed and headed home as slow as he could.

“We’re dead. We’re so dead. We’re going to spend the next decade in the Fenton Stockades,” he groaned. “We’re so dead! We’ll never see the light of day! Hold still you stupid bucket of bolts! Goodbye cruel world! Wait, why are we transformed? Val’s father walked in on us making out. Sucks to suck. Can we get a hand?” He checked his watch and shrugged, turning towards where Sam was fighting Technus at the boardwalk. “Sure, we’re dead as soon as we get home and Mom and Dad won’t be expecting us back for another half hour since they think we’d have to take the bus. Great, because he’s getting on our nerves.”

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

I’m grounded for two weeks, Danny said. And I had to sit through mom giving me The Talk again.

Sounds like it sucks to be allo. Can’t relate, Sam said, setting aside the book she’d been reading and grabbing another.

And Jazz came in looking all stern to say that when she told us to spend the weekend having fun, she hadn’t meant that much fun.

Sam snorted.

We didn’t even do anything!

She looked over the passage on Chronos she’d found, but it didn’t have any new information.

Val texted to say her dad’s taking her phone. She’s grounded for a month and her dad’s taking her suit and all her gear.

Sam tossed the book aside. Wait, her dad found out?

We’d just gotten to her house so she was in her suit when he walked in.

She was in the suit when you guys were making out? Tucker interjected out of nowhere. Wait, is the suit kink a Fenton thing? Is that why -

Finish that thought and I’ll toss your laptop into the ghost zone, Danny hissed. Crud, Jazz just came in. She’s making me study with her to make sure I’m not talking to you guys. Talk later.

Bye Danny.

See you, Sam said and stood up. She grabbed the books she’d gathered and went to put them back on the shelves. So you’re done hanging out with Kiran then?

Camp’s over for the day, but we’re going to hang out again tomorrow, Tucker said. What are you up to?

Checking out the paranormal section at Skulk and Lurk. I was hoping they’d have some information on our clock ghost.

Aren’t we supposed to be avoiding ghosts?

Jazz isn’t the boss of me.

True. Want some help?

Are you dressed like your usual self?

Yes?

Pass.

Rude.

I love you, but I will not get kicked out of my favorite bookshop because you’ve decided your aesthetic is traffic light.

Aw, I love you too! Tucker cooed.

Tuning you out now.

Okay, bye, Sammy! Love you!

Sam made a gagging sound in her head as she started looking for new books to check. “Aren’t there any books in here about real ghosts?”

“Try the historical fantasy section.”

She looked over to see Ravage reading the description of a book. “What?”

“The historical fantasy section,” he said, gesturing half-heartedly to the side. “Found a book over there the other day that was about a ghost king. Sounded just like the real dude. The author seemed to understand death and ghosts better than most. Bit too cheerful, but it was an interesting read if you can push past it.”

“Do you remember the author?” Sam asked.

“Worth, or something. The book was King’s Coffin if that helps.”

“Thanks.”

“Whatever. You coming to poetry night?”

“If I can get away from my parents.”

“Good luck.”

“Whatever.”

She went over to the section and found the book Ravage had mentioned alongside a few others written by Regsit Worth: Acropolis of Elysium, Nocturnus, Dark Winds, and Carnivorous Garden.

She pulled King’s Coffin off and glanced over the description before flipping through the book. She skimmed through it and her eyes widened at the ghost’s description and the description of his downfall. She checked the Also By section and smirked when she saw a book titled Shadows of Time. She put Pariah's book back then grabbed the garden book and headed to the counter.

“Would you be able to order a book by this author?” she asked as the cashier rang her up.

The man shrugged and switched to a different register. He asked for the title and typed it in when she answered. “Another print isn’t due for a year or so, but our sister store in San Francisco has a few copies. I can have them send one over, but you’d have to pay shipping upfront.”

“That’s fine.”

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

“You know, I think Jazz was onto something about having some weekends to ourselves,” Tucker said when they met up Monday morning. “I had fun at the camp and made great headway with Kiran. Trust me, we’ll be dating by Christmas.”

“Sure you will,” Sam teased. “I’ll admit, though, it wasn’t awful. I got this new book on a wicked plant monster ghost that could actually exist and I might have gotten a lead on our clock ghost. I won’t know until Thursday.”

“Glad you two had fun,” Danny pouted, his forehead pressed against his locker. “Val’s dad threatened to shoot me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you can just phase through the bullet,” Tucker said, patting his back.

“He has ghost weapons now.”

“You right.”

“You could try not sneaking into girls’ bedrooms,” Sam suggested and Danny flushed.

“Don’t say it like that!”

“Hey, Danny.”

The trio turned to see Valerie walking up.

“Hey, Val. Sorry about Saturday.”

“Not your fault,” she sighed and hugged him. “We both didn’t think that through.”

“You didn’t get into too much trouble, right?”

“Just grounded like I said. I’m mostly just mad about my gear. Dad’s taking the suit into the lab and he’s going to give all the rest to your parents. I told him I didn’t get most of it from you, but I don’t know if he believed me.”

“Better them then Vlad,” Danny said with a shrug. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to get any of it back for you, though. They’ll probably be keeping better track of their gear after your dad talks to them.”

Which means it’s going to be hard to replace their thermoses if one gets damaged, great.

“That’s alright. My dad will be keeping an eye out now anyways.” She pulled back. “I should get going before I’m late.”

“Alright, see you at lunch.”

{The Fenton Menace}

Danny sighed as he scrubbed the lab’s counter. “Can’t I do this later?”

“It’s not as if you have anything else to do,” his mom said pointedly.

Maybe so, he thought, eyeing the gun his parents were working on. But I’d rather not get vaporized when that thing accidentally goes off.

When, not if. Danny knew his parents too well for that.

He went back to his scrubbing and his mom focused back on the gun.

A few moments later, Danny’s breath fogged in front of him and his eyes darted to the portal as a pirate kid and his skeleton parrot flew out and up through the ceiling.

Captain Kid is back, he told his partners. My parents are keeping on top of me so I can’t deal with him.

Headed your way, Tucker said.

I’ll come too. Mom’s trying to drag me to the hairdresser.

Have fun. Danny flinched as the gun went off, thankfully pointed away from him. “Can you guys work on something else while I’m down here, please?”

His dad pouted, but his mom put the gun away with a nod, frowning at the blast mark it had left.

[sasuhinasno1fan]

‘Secret Relationship’ - Lukadrien June Day 26

My mind went to Hart of Dixie when I read the prompt so yeah. Lemon was a lot to deal with so I felt like Chloe would be her but they have redemption arcs, don't worry. And hey, she and Zoe get along here, so it's ok. Secret Relationships

He didn’t have to say anything, really. As much as he loved this small town, for some reason, it didn’t love him back. Even though he grew up with summers here, helping his mom in the practise and hanging out with Chloe, when he left for a few years to become a doctor and try and land a residency, everything changed. Chloe was ten times more intense and her overprotectiveness of her half-sister and hatred of her mother made her unbearable, nothing like the girl he remembered. People seemed to think he was a completely different person that the very idea of him being their friend was something to be scared of. Like now, he’d been secret friends with Sabrina, helping her gain more confidence to stand up to Chloe - who he’d hope would eventually talk to him and explain why she was acting the way she was – and she’d been chosen as Memory Matron, basically a person who ran the town’s traditions and tried to preserve a few old historic buildings. Chloe of course wanted it and was obviously upset, but Adrien was proud of Sabrina for taking charge. He’d been hoping it would mean they could hang out in public but she said she couldn’t since most people in the town ‘hated him’. It still hurt to hear and see, after calling this small town his home, and not just because his mother was one of the doctors.

When his parents split and his mom was busy with the divorce, the town practically came together to help raise him until he had to go back to his dad, the unfortunate part of the deal between them. he’d been in Paris for a few years, hoping to get high up before coming to help his mom out. His mom had been sick during then and made those who knew, promise not to tell him and leave before he could get his fellowship. When he got here, his mom was on her deathbed and the sudden announcement that he’d take over her half of the practise was a surprise and a lot of people thought he choose the job over his mom. Chloe’s dad was his partner and certainly didn’t want to share, there was a minor incident involving a parade float that he got blamed for and apparently delivering a baby at an engagement party was in poor taste. Though, he’d blame that last one on Nath’s mom, since she never got along with his own and she was just passing on the dislike to him.

Point was, here Chloe was, with Sabrina keys, the keychain he’d given her earlier dangling from the ring, and the blonde was looking smug, thinking she was going to get what she wanted after all, basically announcing that he and Sabrina were friends and that was against the law.

He loved Chloe and he might be mad at Sabrina for choosing a position over him, but he wasn’t about to let Chloe win. “My keys!” he got up from his table and practically sprinted to the front of the room, snatching them from Chloe’s hand. “I’ve been looking for these everywhere. Thanks for finding them Sabrina.”

Chloe scoffed. She might hate her mom, but her attitude was fitting her more and more each day. “You have keys with your own name on it? Self-obsessed much?”

“No that’s you. these are keys I made for someone else.” He looked across the restaurant, trying to decide who. It’d have to be a date; the whole town had been gossiping about him dating someone. Finally, he made his decision and walked over to the bar, relishing a little in Luka’s confused expression. “I think it’s time we stop hiding things. Here, it’s for the carriage house. Try not to be late this time.” He grabbed his stuff and left, letting out a breath once he was as far from the Liberty’s Hardrock.

He just told the whole town he was dating Luka, his kinda sometimes annoying neighbour, who had a heart of gold that hide beneath all those piercings and hair dye. There was a minor make out when he moved back, since he’d completely changed and Adrien was a little drunk of wine, then when the heatwave hit and he almost went further and then the moment they shared during Christmas. Adrien wasn’t going to lie, when he was a kid, he thought Luka was the coolest and the years had been very good to him. But he hadn’t been ready to date anyone, his last attempt ended up sleeping with someone before their date could even happen. He wanted to put a pause, but now to protect someone, he was.

He just hoped Luka didn’t kill him for leaving him to answer questions everyone was sure to have.

                                                  ________________

Luka knocked on the door to the carriage house an hour later. Adrien was sent back to the last time Luka knocked on the door, with Nino tagging along to try and find Adrien’s mystery man.

“Hi.” Adrien greeted, taking in the ruffled appearance Luka had compared to the more put together one from before. “What happened to you?”

“Courtesy the very curious towns people. Thanks for leaving me there. Still think you should have let Sabrina sink.”

Adrien let the bartender in and headed back to his bedroom. “I’m not that type of person. I helped Sabrina earn that head place and maybe if appearance didn’t matter so much, things would have been different. That and if the town didn’t think I’d choose a fellowship over my ailing mom.”

Luka dropped himself on the bed next to Adrien. “You know all you have to do is ask Marc and he’d release that recording on the gossip cite.”

“And get him fired from being a lawyer’s assistant, no thanks. I’ll prove it to them myself. Now, I think we need to talk secret relationship. You know as well as I do if we break up way too suddenly, Chloe will know we were lying and Sabrina will pay for it.”

Luka shook his head, clearly wanting to say more but clearly knew when to stop poking. “Alright. What do we say?”

“Ok, why did we hide our relationship? When did we start going out?”

“Started after Christmas. And…” Luka let out a hum, trying to think before he snapped his fingers. “You have a tendance to put others before yourself and since the town is weary of you, you didn’t want to get me in trouble. Me being the town rebel doesn’t care and has been looking for an excuse to spill about this ‘secret relationship’ since we got together.”

“Luka.”

“Hey, you wanted to know what the story is, it’s the one that makes the most sense.”

Adrien shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I was supposed to not be dating anyone but thank you for going along with this.”

“You’re lucky your worth it.”

                                                ______________

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you and Luka were dating!”

Adrien listened to Marc talk about what happened last night. he was used to people staring at him but now it was intense. Was him dating someone that big a deal?

“How long has it been going on? Wait, is he the guy everyone’s been whispering about? The one you’ve been so giddy over?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He happed to see Chloe, her sister and Sabrina passing by. “Hey, I’m gonna go to the corner store and get ice cream.”

Marc looked confused and glanced at his watch. “It’s like 8 am? Don’t you have to be at the office soon?”

“Like Andre wouldn’t revile in me being a bit late. I’ll see you later!”

Minutes later, Adrien was in the corner store, hiding by the freezers waiting for a head of red hair. Finally Sabrina showed up. He pulled her keys he’d gotten from Luka and passed them to her.

“Here. Luka had to keep the keychain.”

“He deserves it more than me.” Sabrina looked sorry for herself and Adrien had been there when she started crying when they couldn’t be friends anymore. “So I guess it isn’t true? You just did it to protect me?”

“Yeah. I want to be friends with Chloe again, but she’s gonna have to learn not to be so selfish. You deserve this spot. You stood up to her and you proved you’ve got what it takes. I just, I need friends who are gonna stick by me. And I guess Luka is one of them, doing this for me.”

“I know it’s fake but I think you two would be good for each other.”

Adrien shrugged. Would they? Since moving back, even though they could poke each other buttons, he always knew he could count of Luka for help or just be there. Any other person would have asked for something in return, but Luka was different.

‘You’re lucky your worth it.’

He usually said that when Adrien would beg him to do something for him. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he like it when Luka said that, made him feel special.

He left the corner store and almost crashed into Luka, who was being followed by Alya and Marinette, friends of there but also people behind the town’s gossip cite. Adrien could only guess why they’d been following him around.

“Hey, I was just heading to the office.”

“Cool, so I’ll see you at the restaurant for lunch?” Luka asked.

Adrien nodded and before he could even say anything else, Luka had his arms around his waist and his lips pressed against his.

They’d shared a kiss before but it was a memory Adrien didn’t look at with the biggest fondness. This however, was much better.

“I’ll see you later.” Luka whispered against his lips before he was gone. Adrien didn’t even hear Alya and Marinette grill him.

If this was a fake secret relationship, why did it feel so real?

[majicmarker]

so i’ve had a lot on my mind lately — the good, the bad, the ugly, you know the drill. i’m used to the bad and the ugly, but i think (and ofc by my therapist’s rec) i need to give a little credit to the good, too. not to mention the good is largely comprised of people, and those people deserve a sports stadium wave, yk? idk shit abt sports, whatever, but i know what the wave is and it’s like the grandest gesture i can think of, SO

listen, y’all. to get real here, i hate fandom. my time spent therein has been hit-or-miss, but the misses got me hard and contributed to some major self-loathing, etc etc. we’re not gonna get into the specifics, i don’t owe that to anyone, but suffice it to say things got Rough.

but so much of it can be so, so good. and rn i want to keep on my rose-colored glasses, and the rosiest parts for me have always been @kitten1618x and @mygutsforgarters

(quite a few others, too, but i no longer have everyone’s info. and some ppl are newer friends, or relationships that have moved more slowly. i have mad love for u guys too, obvs, but ik melissa and gus irl so we know each other More and they’re who this post is rly about atm. pls know i don’t want to harsh on anyone’s feelings)

the tl;dr version of events is i met them both via fanfic. i happened upon theirs like “bitch!!!! **i** wanna do this, they’re bomb as hell” and then i made them be friends w me. they’ll tell you they wanted to be friends w me first, but that’s not important bc **i** am the one making this post, so they can both like,, suck it.

ANYWAY.

@ melissa : so bitch listen. here’s the thing abt melissa…… i found her while browsing jonsa fic back when i cared abt GOT, and she brought me back to what i loved so much abt romance when i first started, way back in junior high, what’s up. i bad a fascination w historial romantic epics for a loooooong time — those formative yrs, amirite ladies??? — but girl i could never write it so well as melissa. immediately she struck this balance between the drama you expect from historicals and the levity of a good romance, and i was just like, “hand to god this woman must be published already, surely???”

(she’s not, but that’s ridiculous so we’re gonna skip that)

(also she’s busy?? we’ve been friends for like six years and i will never know how many kids she actually has, but the point is she’s a goddamn superhero and i’m obsessed w her, MOVING ON)

i just Had to be her friend for two reasons: 1) she’s too talented, and b) i have said that abt 2 ppl my entire life and she was the first, so i was like, “AH YES MY HOLY GRAIL”

so ofc i slid into her DMs just as effectively as that one guy i had a crush on when i was sixteen and he’s still shooting me texts every valentine’s day bc of the societal pressures i guess (it is Far Less Effective these days, he’s my age and therefore too young for me, gross, but i digress), except me and melissa go way stronger.

she reminded me of why, half a lifetime ago, i started writing romance — bc it’s fun, bc i want to. bc i can do absolutely anything i want, bc who else is gonna read it but me and whoever i share it with? it was all up to me what i wanted to do with it, and i could do anything. nothing really mattered but what i wanted, and i hadn’t felt that way abt anything in such a long time — let alone abt something i used to love so much.

melissa’s writing is so beautiful, it’s everything i wanted to achieve when i was fifteen and never got around to perfecting. and i’m totally okay w that now, bc what do i need to do myself that she’s not already doing/wants to do in the future? when i found melissa’s writing i found a missing part of me — a part i’d maybe lost, maybe i gave it up, idk, but it was totally gone until i found her fics and they fucking clicked. i had to reach out bc there was a part of me that was a part of her, and she helped me find that again w/o even knowing it.

so i found melissa via GOT, and from the start she’d been trying to get me to write some bethyl. years and years, she dropped not-so-subtle hints — and by “hints,” i mean legit directives that i watch just enough TWD to write her some beth/daryl fic. real crafty, she is.

eventually the stars aligned: i was bored w the same dynamics i’d been writing for years, i wanted smthn new, i was restless, i was line editing a bethyl fic she’d written, and — again — this shit clicked. her fic made me want to explore this dynamic i’d never done before, so i watched the prerequisite episodes (no more than that tho, i super hate the show and i’m begging y’all to not @ me abt it anymore). i found smthn that i’d been missing, smthn that challenged and excited me and brought me back around to why i love romance and, more importantly, why i want to write it myself.

so as i was starting to write bethyl, i was poking around the ao3 tag to get a feel for what had been done, what hadn’t, anything i might be missing. and goddamn BAM —

@ gus : this is where u enter dramatically thru a red velvet curtain that i don’t wanna touch (Metaphorically bc you do romance better than me and i’m cool w that bc your talent simply Cannot be touched, and Literally bc i hate velvet) — i was like, “please for the love of god let her want to write contemporary romance, i need some good fckin food”

i happened upon “doo wah diddy diddy” first. ofc the summary hooked me, forget my usual hard no against pregnancy fics (i have issues w pregnancy and that’s all anybody Needs to know, back off), but This Bitch !!!!!!! has a way with words and i wanted to be friends w her straightaway. lmao too bad for her, now she’s stuck w me

gus’s fics gave me what i wanted without having to write it myself. her style is so distinctive, she hits the notes between porn and Actual Affection that is missing from uhhhh, every romance i’ve tried?? (why is everyone so intent on the sex part?? fckin chill. at best it’s unrelatable and at worst u sound like u’d rather wear someone than fuck them, check urself)

she writes w such care, she wants you to know what she’s doing here, and what she’s doing here is combining the physical and emotional needs of both characters w/o infringing on anyone’s comfortability. you root for these characters bc they simply want to be together, no strings (and if there are strings, damn, they talk abt it).

gus makes you believe in love in the modern age. like, not to sound like one of those ppl who post fckin “no one in this generation knows how to love!!!1!!11!!” memes on facebook, those are dumb, but gus’s writing made me think “yeah man, love ain’t dead, it’s just abt how we approach it.”

(if y’all haven’t guessed yet, i have some hang-ups abt relationships. i’ve goddamn earned those. but melissa and gus both brought me back to where i needed to be — in this place where, yeah, we’ve got some shit to deal with, but we all still deserve the things we want, and those things are achievable. i could not have gotten here without them, so jot that down.)

gus is Real, she’s funny, she’s unapologetic in the way she writes. ofc she has her personal hurdles, but who doesn’t?? and tbh nobody writes a sex scene like gus does. physical, realistic, but balanced w the emotional depth that makes you root for these characters bc you can Feel how much they want each other — not just sexually, but in the less-erotic aftermath of that passion. it continues to blow my mind, bc i’ve never seen anyone do what she does. i can’t even pinpoint the specifics, bc she just… Does It. and you’re reading it like “yeah bitch that’s it,” and That’s It.

it’s fckin wild.

these two — my best friends, the lights of my life, both of whom always make me crave chicken tenders at THE most inconvenient hours bc somehow we always talk abt chicken or ice cream or ultimately DQ, but they're both so hot idec — have something special.

i really, really want them both to know that: it’s not just in how they’ve treated me as a friend, but who they are as people, in their creative pursuits. i’ve never known support the way they’ve shown me; i’ve never known this much enthusiasm or investment or belief that i can do what i want with my talent. i want them to know that i feel the same way abt them and their works.

sometimes, when i look back at their writing that completely kicked my ass, i still can’t believe that they’ve become two of my best friends. it’s totally bonkers. they’re This Talented, and they wanna be friends w my spastic ass? GIRL. i’m out.

i’m not always the best at being present, at giving people what they need when they need it. but with everything that melissa and gus have given me in the past few years, i need them to know this — honey!!! i need all y’all to know this, bc i know fandom shit is hard, but you should know some of these friendships are so, so worth all that bullshit, so —

they have so much to give, so much to say, so much to offer. i could not have kept going without them. i couldn’t believe in myself without the faith they’ve given to me. i hope that i can always give that same faith right back.

and that, babes, is what real soulmates are all about.

[theladyofdeath]

Alone in the Ashes {10}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I figured two chapters in one night is okay since, you know, it’s short....and everyone should go to bed sad.

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“He left bloody fingerprints on the rock, but there was something satisfying about that. I was here. I exist. I’m alive, because I bleed.” ― Maggie Stiefvater, Blue Lily, Lily Blue

Rhysand sat in the quiet interrogation room. 

At least they had uncuffed him.

He’d been sitting there, in the silence, running on pure adrenaline for at least forty minutes. He wanted to call Feyre, but even if he had his phone, they would have taken it from him.

On the ride to the station, no one answered his questions. And he had asked a lot of them. Eventually, he had given up and let the nature of things take its course. 

The door to the white, nearly empty room opened and Beron Vanserra walked in. Rhysand said nothing as he sat in the chair opposite of him.

“Rhysand,” Beron began, and cleared his throat. “Tell me why you’re here.”

Rhysand blinked. “Surely you’re aware, because I sure as hell am not.” 

Beron nodded, face grave. “Look, Rhys,” he began, using that old, familiar nickname. “We got a call-”

“From Tamlin?” Rhysand guessed. “Beron, you’ve known me since I was five. Alright? You know my character. I’m not some dumbass teenager who gets high in his mom’s basement then thinks it’s fun to go spraypaint dicks on historical landmarks.”

Beron rubbed his temples. “Rhysand-”

“For fuck’s sake!” he said, unable to keep his cool. “I just get home from work, get handcuffed and dragged out of my fucking apartment - while my girlfriend and the entire fucking neighborhood watches, might I add - for what?” Rhysand shook his head. “Because Tamlin’s rich and his daddy has a lot of power? Because that’s my fucking guess.” 

“Rh-”

“If you’re going to interrogate me, I have nothing to say. I was at work all day, every day, and when I’m not at work, I’m at home with Feyre-”

“Rhys, if you do not stop talking, I will have an actual reason to throw you in jail,” Beron snapped.

Rhysand blinked, and closed his mouth.

“Thank you,” Beron hissed. “Now, I’ve talked with the officers that picked you up.”

Beron hesitated, and Rhysand was certain it was the only time he had ever seen the man hesitate.

“You were always a good friend to Lucien before he moved away,” Beron said, voice quiet, “and because of that, I won’t lie to you, but if you tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, and I lose my job, I will find a reason to lock you up.”

Rhysand’s jaw went stiff.

He nodded.

“You and Tamlin have never gotten along, I understand that,” Beron went on, and Rhysand stilled. “And as you said, he hails from a powerful family - one that owns this force and half of everything else in this city. Unfortunately, Rhys, whatever you’ve done recently to piss Tamlin off, he’s vengeful. As far as the police go, I’ll do what I can to set matters straight, but this isn’t the only thing he’ll try.”

With a muttered curse, Rhysand shook his head.

“Now,” Beron said, tossing a plastic bag on the table with Rhysand’s wallet in it that was taken from him when he entered the station, “go home.”

He snatched the bag from the table and pushed back the metal chair, which screeched along the tile. 

“Thanks,” Rhysand said, as he and Beron walked toward the door.

Beron gave him a curt nod. He’d always been a hard man, unreadable, but Rhysand appreciated his honesty. 

“Need a ride home?” Beron asked.

Rhysand shook his head. “I’ll take the bus, thanks. Can I use the phone, though?”

He made a quick call to Feyre before he left, promising to be home soon and to explain everything when he got there.

Beron said nothing more as he and Rhysand parted ways. He exited into the station lobby before ending up in the steps out front. The streetlights were on as the sun had completely disappeared.

He was so fucking tired as he slumped down the steps and down the sidewalk, towards the bus stop.

He couldn’t wait to get home.

But he didn’t even make it to the bus stop before someone grabbed him by the elbow.

Rhysand didn’t have the chance to turn around before he was knocked in the back of the head, and everything went black.

~~~~~

Feyre paced back and forth as Mor, Azriel, and Amren sat on her couch, Mila asleep on Mor’s lap. Rhysand had called Feyre from the police station, telling her he’d be home in thirty minutes, tops, and he’d explain when he arrived, but that had been over an hour and a half ago.

“I don’t understand,” Feyre said, shaking her head. “I don’t fucking understand.” She had googled for news stories after Rhysand left. There was nothing on any vandalism done to the chapel. Amren had even stopped there on her way over and confirmed it. 

“I wish you’d at least try to relax,” Amren said, calmly. “It won’t do Rhys any good if you have a panic attack.”

She had already cried and gotten pissed off. Now, Feyre was just worried. 

“At least let me get you something to drink,” Mor said, patting Mila softly on the back.

Azriel was the only one who hadn’t said a word since he’d arrived. 

“He doesn’t have his phone?” Mor asked, for the third time, when Feyre didn’t answer.

Feyre shook her head. “It’s in the kitchen.”

The front door burst open and everyone’s eyes shot to the entryway.

Cassian strode in.

Nesta at his heels.

Feyre froze.

“Sorry,” Cassian said, walking to Feyre and taking her face into his hands. “I came as soon as I got the message. You alright?”

Feyre shook her head before stepping back and looking at Nesta. “Why are you here?”

Nesta didn’t answer. She showed no emotion as she sat in the armchair in the corner. 

“She was with me at the garage,” Cassian said, softly. “What happened?”

“Cops came in,” Amren began, “arrested Rhys for vandalism that never happened.” 

Cassian’s brows scrunched together. “That makes no sense.”

“Obviously,” Mor said, sighing, “which is why we’re all sitting here looking confused as shit. Doesn’t help that he said he’d be here an hour ago and, as you can see, he’s not.” 

Amren was looking back and forth between Cassian and Nesta, but as she opened her mouth to say something, Cassian shot her a look and shook his head. 

Feyre’s hands raked through her tangled hair. She kept going back to the same thought, the same man. Rhysand didn’t have enemies, just one. “It was Tamlin. I know it was Tamlin.”

Azriel looked up at this, and Feyre saw the wheels moving inside of his mind. Feyre had sounded certain, and Azriel had never doubted her. “What’s his number?”

“What?” Feyre breathed. “No, you’re not calling-”

“No, I’m not,” Azriel said, words clipped, “but give me his number.”

She did so, and Azriel fiddled on his phone for a few minutes. As he concentrated on whatever it was he was doing, Feyre felt like she was going to puke. The rest of the room sat in tense silence.

Nesta included. 

As the minutes passed, which Feyre felt lasted far too long, Azriel didn’t give much away, but then he froze. “Fuck.”

Cassian was instantly turning around. “What?”

But Azriel was already on his feet. He looked to Mor. “Take Mila home, put her to bed.”

Mor nodded, no questions asked.

“What’s going on?” Feyre asked, that panic returning in the pit of her stomach.

“Stay here, keep your phone on,” Azriel said. “Cass and I are going for a drive.”

“Azriel,” Feyre begged, hurrying after him.

He stopped at the door to pull on his shoes. “He’s sitting in the middle of nowhere, near the forest on the other side of town. Either he’s looking for a fight or he’s fucking some poor girl in the backseat of his car.” 

Feyre froze, and paled.

“Cass and I are going,” Azriel repeated, his voice calm. Cassian was already throwing open the door. “I’ll call.”

Feyre nodded, but by the time she had, they were already gone.

~~~~~

Rhysand woke up to nothing but darkness.

His head hurt like shit. He was dizzy. He was stuck in a compact compartment, the world moving around him.

He was in the trunk of a car. 

A small one, he imagined. He couldn’t move, at all, his body, tall and lean, scrunched together and lying awkwardly. 

He didn’t know how long he’d been out.

Didn’t know where he was.

Didn’t know who had him. 

He didn’t have to wait for long, though, because the car came to a screeching halt. 

Rhysand jolted in the trunk, hitting every inch of his body against something.

Didn’t help his headache.

A minute later, the trunk opened and Rhysand was staring into the eyes of Eris Vanserra. 

He took Rhysand by the collar and dragged him out of the trunk. The second Rhysand’s feet hit the grass, he felt like he was going to fall over.

His head.

His vision was blurry. 

“It’s been a while, Lunasa, hasn’t it?” Eris crooned, forcing Rhysand down on his knees before jamming something hard into Rhysand’s side.

He grunted, trying to keep his vision steady. 

Rhyasnd saw a gleam in the side of his eye, the moonlight reflecting off metal.

He’d been hit with the hilt of a knife.

Let’s hope I don’t get the other end.

The driver’s side door opened and he got out, his hair cut shorter than Rhysand remembered, but still that bright, golden hue. He could be seen from a mile, even in the darkness. 

Tamlin said nothing as he walked, slowly, to where Eris had Rhysand. 

He stopped in front of them and tilted his head. “Second time I’ve seen you get your ass kicked recently.”

Rhysand said nothing.

Instead, he fought to get up, but didn’t get far.

A long blade snuck up beneath Rhysand’s chin, against his neck.

Rhysand stilled.

Tamlin shook his head. “Did you enjoy your run in with the law?”

Rhysand stayed quiet. 

“I thought it’d be pretty funny,” Tamlin grinned. “Turns out, I was right. Anyway, I won’t keep you long. Just wanted to talk.”

Rhysand scoffed. “I have a phone.”

“This is much more interesting,” Eris said, from over his shoulder. “For us, anyway.”

Prick.

Tamlin went closer to Rhysand before he said, “Feyre promised me you two weren’t together, that you weren’t the reason she left, but she forgets that I know a lot of people in this city, as does my father. It seems you two are closer than ever lately.”

Rhysand grinned. “Stalking us? Surely you have better things to do.”

Tamlin’s eyes hardened. “How long has she been whoring around in your bed, Rhys?”

Rhyasnd didn’t answer, but his eyes flared. The minute Rhysand tried to move toward Tamlin, the blade pressed into his neck. 

Rhysand could feel a streak of blood trailing down his neck as he spat at Tamlin’s feet. 

Tamlin didn’t seem bothered, though, as he said, “You didn’t answer my question. Has it been a few months? A year? Has it been going on all along and I’ve just been there to get her nice things and take her nice places, because you sure as hell can’t on a waiter’s salary.” 

“Fuck you,” Rhysand said, lifting his chin, his vision blurring, once more, as the pounding in his head returned at the faint movement. 

“Tell me!” Tamlin screamed, his voice echoing in the silence of the abandoned street. “Feyre has been mine since high school, and then she leaves without feeling any sort of guilt and goes straight to you, her lowlife lover, and that’s not a coincidence.”

Rhysand, despite feeling the need to pass out, laughed. “She left you because you’re a fucking cunt, Tamlin! You’re possessive, and manipulative, and make her feel like shit about herself. She didn’t feel guilty because she was so fucking tired of your bullshit!” 

Rhyand screamed the words so violently that the blade Eris was holding pressed tighter against his skin. 

Tamlin didn’t react, though. He simply looked at Eris, and nodded. 

The blade was removed from Rhysand’s neck, but the moment Rhysand let out a breath, Tamlin had kicked him in the abdomen.

Clutching his stomach, Rhysand fell forward as Tamlin’s boot met Rhysand’s knee, then his side, his back. He could hear his nose break, but couldn’t convince his hands to reach up, to try and stop the blood. Tamlin’s boots made contact over, and over, and over again.

Rhysand didn’t bother to fight.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t move.

For the second time in a matter of months, Tamlin had caught him off guard and weakened him - the only way Tamlin knew how to win was to play dirty, and he was good at it.

His eyes fluttered shut as he heard the car engine turn on.

Rhysand’s world was dark before they even drove away.

~~~~~

Cassian and Azriel were driving with their windows down, speeding down the road where Azriel had tracked Tamlin’s phone.

They hadn’t seen a car in a while, but that didn’t mean anything. If anything at all, it meant that it was the perfect place to kick somebody’s ass.

“Anything?” Azriel called from behind the wheel, eyes scanning the road.

Just as Cassian was about to say no, he stopped himself. “Fuck- stop!”

Azriel slammed on the breaks, his truck sliding before it came to a complete stop. Cassian was already unbuckled and throwing open the door, though, before Azriel had even put it in park. He hurried to the shoulder, at the limp body that laid there. 

Azriel came up behind them, face paled. “Fuck.”

Cassian was on his knees, rolling Rhysand over. He pressed his cheek against his chest, felt his pulse. “Breathing is okay. Come on, let’s get him up.”

With Azriel on one side and Rhysand on the other, they carried Rhysand into the backseat of Azriel’s truck. He was completely unconscious. In the light, he hardly looked like himself. His nose was bloody, definitely broken, his eyes swollen, his neck cut. A dark, black and blue bruise covered the faint one that had just about healed, on his cheekbone. 

“Shit,” Cassian breathed, and met Azriel’s gaze.

There were very few times Cassian had seen Azriel’s murderous gaze.

This was one of them. 

“Let’s get him to the hospital,” Azriel said, pulling up the hem of Rhysand’s torn shirt, his eyes hardening at the discoloration. “Make sure he doesn’t have any internal bleeding.” 

Cassian nodded before hopping back into the truck. The minute Azriel sped off, Cassian pulled out his phone.

Calling Feyre, hearing her heartbreak, was the last thing he wanted to do.

~~~~~

Feyre couldn’t stop herself from crying. “Okay, I’m-I’m on my way, I’ll meet you there.”

She hung up the phone, turned to the others.

Amren and Nesta were already on their feet, Mor clung to Mila, still asleep, on the couch. 

“They’re taking him to the hospital. He…...They’re taking him to the hospital. I have-I have to go to the hospital.” 

“Give me your keys,” Nesta said, instantly.

Feyre shot her a glare. “Why.”

“Because you’re in no condition to drive,” she explained. “I will bring you.”

Feyre hesitated, but nodded.

“I’ll come, too,” Amren said, then looked to Mor. “Go home, put her to sleep, we’ll call as soon as we hear anything.”

Eyes weary and lined with silver, Mor nodded.

The three of them piled into Feyre’s little car, Nesta behind the wheel. She wasted no time starting it up and pulling out of the parking lot.

Feyre couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t stop panicking, couldn’t stop sobbing.

Amren reached up from the back seat and put her hand on Feyre’s shoulder. 

“It’s my fault,” Feyre sobbed. “It’s my fucking fault.”

“It’s not your fault that Tamiln’s a hateful prick,” Amren said. 

Nesta stayed quiet, but she drove, quickly, through the city. 

Feyre screamed, loudly, deafening.

No one stopped her. 

They couldn’t go to the police, couldn’t say anything. It would just be brushed under the rug. Feyre felt helpless. Feyre felt sick. Feyre was terrified of getting to the hospital, terrified of seeing Rhysand in pain because of her faults. 

Because of her past. 

By the time Nesta pulled into the hospital’s parking lot, Feyre could hardly breath. Nesta looked in the rearview mirror and caught Amren’s eye. “I’ll drop you both off at the door?”

Amren nodded, and when Nesta pulled up to the doors, Amren got out, and waited for Feyre, but Feyre couldn’t move. 

She looked at Nesta.

Her oldest sister was already watching her. For once, her eyes were not hard, emotionless. She gave Feyre a nod of encouragement.

Feyre got out of the car.

Hand in Amren’s, they walked into the hospital. 

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

Tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

[aiden-png]

Hyrule the baby detective?

ohohoho okay so.. I have three genres I like to write in my original lit: horror, scifi, and mystery. so I wanted to write a mystery for LU, multichapter and thoroughly outlined (partly because analyzing HSH was so much fun and I wanted to keep that going alkdfjkasdfj). so I came up with an idea for a crime mystery set in a vaguely 1890s ‘modern’ Castle Town city following apprentice detective Hyrule... I actually wrote a Lot for the first draft before realizing it was a bit too silly for my intent and I hadn’t outlined it enough to solve the sideplots I’d introduced while writing. so I scrapped this... 4? chapter first draft right before the climax and sat down to Really plot it out (I wrote this one in July I think lol)

I have a whole outline and I made a new setting: ‘modern’ university AU with a serial killer antagonist who takes an interest in Hyrule. I had so much of it planned out and I was hype to write it because the twist was amazing, which is the part I felt was lacking set up in the first try. but then classes started and I came up with another multichapter idea and started writing that instead, kinda.. oops!

so if I ever release a version of this fic, it’ll probably be an edited and finished version of the crack taken seriously first draft XD and I’m not sure if I’ll ever use the twist I came up with for the second version so I won’t share it, but it was Good omg.... I love adding twists into my multichapter fics, they’re so much fun aaa! :D

and I guess, just because I can.... have a (unedited and messy) snippet from it! :D

Hyrule was so nervous he’d managed to leave the office and board the subway before even opening the envelope. The envelope where the address of the client and time of meeting was… Hyrule sighed, carefully opening the clasps and peering inside. There was one tiny slip of paper and nothing else. Great. Hyrule pulled the appointment card out, squinting down at the scribbled address and-- oh dear, the meeting was in less than an hour! Hyrule’s eyes flicked around, only relaxing slightly as he realized he’d somehow managed to board the correct train.

He was a bit frustrated at the lack of information he’d been given, if he was being honest. A murder case typically had a name, some pictures, a report even when they got the call, but the card Hyrule held simply had an address and a name--Twilight. Odd name, but he didn’t really have room to talk, his parents had named him after a country after all.

The train arrived and Hyrule shuffled his way through the crowds at the station, climbing the stairs to find himself in the center of the historic district. Towering stone buildings lined the streets in streaked creams and greys, stained by coal even as most of the city moved to electric. The houses here were expensive and ancient and Hyrule knew the district was made of wealthy, private citizens more than anything else. People who preferred to keep their affairs under the table, tight-lipped and aloof, rude even. Hyrule lived in a dingy apartment, packed like a sardine in rooms barely big enough for a bed and stove. He felt small and out of place just standing in the street, suddenly aware of how cheap his white shirt and suspenders looked compared to the businessmen clad in full suits around him.

Hyrule rushed to find the building, glancing up towards the clock tower that rested in the building at the end of the street. Rows and rows of brownstones, all looking strikingly similar, before Hyrule found the bright red overhang of an apartment building, the address emblazoned on the cloth in gold script. He let out a small sigh of relief, still ten minutes ahead of schedule, and pulled open the grand wooden door at the entrance.

The interior was dark but spacious, high ceilings and sconces all fit with gas lamps that were out of use. There was a window at the top of the first flight of stairs, smudged and allowing a grey, watery light to pass into the foyer--the only light present. The right side of the hall held a built in alcove, a set of open mailboxes behind a desk and chair. An attendant sat in the dim light, head slumped forward on his chest, brown hair disheveled over his maroon uniform. Obviously asleep. Hyrule looked down at his note, up at the stairs, and quietly snuck past.

Two flights up Hyrule noticed a massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling at the top floor, visible through the gaps in the alternating staircases. A small man was strapped to the rail and ceiling, grease and soot staining his shirt and hair pulled away with a green headband. Hyrule found himself on the fifth floor and peering at the precarious set up the man had constructed--or was he just a boy? He didn’t look much older than fourteen, but he was clearly hard at work, wires looped around his arms and clamps in hand as he converted the chandelier from gas to electric. The kid shot Hyrule a questioning look and he realized he’d been staring, quickly turning away and facing the hall ahead.

There were six doors, three on each side of the hall with tiny golden plaques adorning the wood with each apartment number. Hyrule winced as each step he took broadcast itself in loud squeaks, the maroon carpet rolled over the wood doing nothing to muffle them. Fortunately the apartment he was looking for was the first to his left, room 501, and he took a moment to check his pocket watch and take a few steadying breaths. Before he moved to knock on the door he heard the click of the knob, and a moment later the door tugged open to reveal a man dressed in a dark jacket with dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. They narrowed for a second and Hyrule felt himself stiffen in fear before the man grabbed his arm and pulled him in.

The door shut quickly, trapping Hyrule in the mysterious apartment with a threatening stranger and no escape. He almost considered trying to bolt before his eyes landed on the teen sprawled over the loveseat ahead, long blonde hair spilling onto the ground while his bare feet rested over the couch back. His left side was covered in a layer of streaking pink scars that pinched his eye slightly shut and twisted his mouth into a perpetual smirk. What made Hyrule pause however was the grin the kid shot him, warm and excited, and when he turned back to the other man he saw the tense posture had relaxed significantly.

“You’re from the agency, right?” the man asked, voice a bit tired and hopeful, like he’d been through this song and dance several times before.

“Ah, y-yes! My name is Hyrule, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Hyrule stretched out his hand and the man shook it readily, firm, and Hyrule felt himself begin to relax slightly.

“I’m Twilight. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll fill you in on why I called.” Twilight offered a small smile and Hyrule let himself be guided to sit in a high backed armchair opposite the loveseat. Twilight shoved the teen’s legs off the back and came to sit beside him as he readjusted into a cross-legged position, grin still wide on his face.

“I’m Wild by the way,” Wild waved, Twilight nodding somewhat resigned.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wild,” Hyrule nodded despite the odd name, smiling at the thanks Twilight mouthed at him.

“Alright, so,” Twilight huffed, crossing his legs and straightening his back. Hyrule perked up, pulling a notepad and pencil from his jacket pocket and flipping open to a blank page. “I didn’t say much on the phone last night because this is a… well, a sensitive case, let’s say.”

Hyrule hummed, curiosity easing his anxiety enough to shine through. “A murder, yes?”

Twilight winced and Wild snickered at his side.

“Yes and no…” Twilight shot Wild a glare. “See, it hasn’t exactly happened yet.”

Hyrule paused. Huh.

“So you heard that a murder is being planned and you called us to help prevent it?” Hyrule surmised, only to be met with more laughter from Wild. Twilight shoved him but the teen only hid his smile behind a hand in response.

“Not exactly,” Twilight sighed, and Hyrule noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes. “You see, we have this odd neighbor at the end of the hall, and--”

“Twilight saw the guy’s ghost in a dream and is convinced he’s going to be killed.” Wild cut in, ignoring the sharp glare Twilight shot his way.

“Well, that’s a new one.” Hyrule raised his eyebrows, taking in the giggling teen and Twilight’s tired expression.

“It wasn’t a dream, I saw him, or at least I think I did.” Twilight sighed, fixing Hyrule with pleading eyes. “It must have been a ghost because he just appeared out of nowhere in the hall, covered in blood, and told me to call the cops. I did, but when they arrived they said nothing was wrong and I must have been seeing things. But I have a bad feeling about it, something isn’t right. I just want to make sure the Old Man’s okay.”

“When was this exactly? Have you checked on him yourself?” Hyrule tapped his pencil on the notepad, mulling over Twilight’s words. This certainly was an interesting case, and while he wasn’t sure how much he could truly do to help, he understood what Twilight meant. Hyrule trusted his own instincts--a bit too much according to Legend--but they hadn’t truly led him astray yet.

“This was a week ago. I checked on him right after I woke up the next morning. He was fine, not a scratch on him, but something tells me whatever is coming for him hasn’t yet.” Twilight twisted his fingers together nervously and Wild’s laughter petered off. “I’ve been hearing arguments from his apartment. More and more strange people have been coming to visit, and at odd times of the night. I think he’s gotten himself mixed up in something, but he’s pretty stoic and keeps to himself. I just worry…”

Alright, so maybe this case wasn’t as straightforward as he’d been led to believe, but Hyrule wasn’t deterred. Twilight’s words shone with honesty and he realized that the man was likely on his last attempt to find help. No one in their right mind would believe this story, no respectable detective would take on such a case. So it was a good thing Legend sent him, because Hyrule had literally nothing to lose.

“I’ll help you,” Hyrule announced, feeling a swell of confidence as Twilight smiled and Wild shook his head fondly. “If what you say is true there is cause for concern. I can start interviewing those close to him and keeping tabs. If he’s in trouble, we’ll find out, and I can make sure he stays safe.”

Well, he could try, but that was beside the point.

“Thank you so much,” Twilight said, already relaxing. “You don’t know how many detectives I’ve reached out to. They all say I’m crazy or trying to pull a prank.”

“Well, I’m here now, and I’ll get to the bottom of this.” Hyrule replied with far more confidence than he had. At least Legend had taught him one thing--how to bullshit. “So, why don’t we start with what you know about this man…”

Twilight sat back in the chair, Wild getting up to make tea in the adjacent kitchenette. Hyrule readied his pencil, hands steady as his nerves eased.

“We call him Time.”

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

A cozy reading nook

There’s nothing like going to a thrift shop and striking gold. In today’s case, it was at the books section. Murphy and I have been spending the past few days putting together a cozy reading nook with our new gyroid themed furniture. Since the shelves were looking a bit sparse, we headed off to several thrift shops to fill them up.

Going to a thrift shop is like picking and choosing stuff from a mystery goodie bag. Sometimes you find stuff and sometimes you don’t - it’s all about chance. My mom always said whenever we went shopping at a thrift store is that if we find something we like, buy it. First of all, it’s fairly cheap, and second, you’re never going to see it again. So I base my purchases off absolutes - do I really want/need it or not? Even if I’m not gonna need it right away but might in the future, then that counts as a yes.

Today we went shopping at a cute little corner shop in Blueberry. I’ve only been there a few times since it’s kinda hard to get there but whenever I stopped by, I almost always find a treasure. And today, we stumbled across a treasure chest!

Among the many books we found today, there was one that caught my eye in particular. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a coincidence that I would stumble upon this find after hearing the news a couple days ago.

The book in question is called Climb Every Mountain by Claire Bennett. It’s one of those books that I read years ago and it stuck with me. A fairly quick read, but one that lingers for a while. I think the fact that I’ve crossed paths with Claire in the past is why I’ve been so invested in the story.

I wonder how she’s doing right now.

Climb Every Mountain’s a work of fiction loosely based on Claire’s own life - or, in retrospect, a somewhat idealized version of it. An alternate universe where despite everything that happened, there’s still a glimmer of hope that it gets better. Not that Claire’s life was terrible, but more like for every good thing that happened, it gets overshadowed by the not so good things happening behind the scenes. 

I met Claire when I was living in Astra, back when she was married to Matt. She, Nathan, and I would often hang out at the Study Library Cafe so that’s how we became friends. After Claire finished grad school we kinda lost touch with her, at least until we found each other on social media a few years ago. So even though we don’t talk often, at least we hear bits and pieces here and there.

Nathan, Claire, and Matt went to the same high school - Claire and Matt being a couple years older - so that’s how they know each other. Astra’s a medium sized town so even if you don’t know everyone, you’ve at least heard of most of them. 

Claire wasn’t exactly in the popular crowd, but she was notable for being well accomplished. Straight A, type A perfectionist who’s captain of the cheerleading squad and debate team as well as class president who graduated as valedictorian - she was what they described as untouchable. Despite how she might look, Claire is not superficial or shallow or cutthroat - she’s just ambitious. No one dared messed with her or got in her way.

Then there’s Matt, who was also notable but not exactly popular either. He came from a rich family who was notable in Astra and he made sure people knew that. Orphaned as a baby he lived with his dad’s advisor who tried to manipulate him so when he got older Matt kicked her out and was informally adopted by a friend who helped bailed him out when his former guardian tried to get revenge. 

At first glance Matt comes across as arrogant, narcissistic, and not so bright. Part of his arrogance comes from being entitled, though it’s more of a defense mechanism to protect himself from those who tried to use him. The saying still waters run deep applies to him. 

Even after everything he put Claire through, I can’t help but feel bad for him sometimes. Don’t get me wrong - it doesn’t excuse his actions, but at least it wasn’t done out of pure malice. Matt has a lot of flaws but the biggest one of all is his tendency towards self-sabotage.

Because their personalities are so different, you’d think people like Matt and Claire would clash. To everyone’s surprise, they were close friends turned high school sweethearts. In a way, they complimented each other. But they also dragged each other down - Claire bringing out the best in him, Matt bringing out the worst in her. 

No matter what, Claire still sees the good in him. I don’t think Matt is a bad guy, but he’s definitely not good for her. I get that Claire has a special bond with him - and probably the best thing to ever happen to him second to his adoptive family - so it’s understandable why she’s so forgiving of him. She was in a tough spot as she could no longer tolerate his bullshit and at the same time couldn’t just cut him off like pretty much everyone else in his life.

Claire wrote and published Climb Every Mountain during her senior year of high school. At the time she was standing at a crossroads. She had two equally great scholarships - one for any Ivy League university, another close to home. There were also a lot of other factors she had to consider and in the end she chose to stay home and marry Matt.

Climb Every Mountain is a historical fiction novel set in the 60s that tells the story of a bookish teenage girl who grows up alongside her childhood friend, a rebellious orphan of a wealthy family. Despite their differences, both feel like they don’t belong because of how much they stand out. The precocious Malina is told to stay in her place and downplay her inquisitive nature while KT’s the kind of guy who refuses to give a damn about anything. 

The story starts when Malina and KT are fourteen and spans about five years. Malina’s busy trying to figure out the world while KT does whatever he wants, including trying to win over Malina’s heart. As they grow older, they become closer and later get married despite disapproval from pretty much everyone. The two go through a lot of ups and downs as they realize that the world is a lot more complicated and contradicting than they realize. 

The end is somewhat ambiguous but also hopeful. Malina defies her family’s expectations by speaking her mind through leading anti-war protests. KT casts away his family’s status and threw everything out of the window by dodging the draft. They were able to get away with being arrested and released because of KT’s status and now that no longer mattered, the young couple had no choice but to flee the country. So Malina stages one final protest, basically giving the government a big middle finger, and in the chaos, she and KT escape. 

As they snuck away, both fought the temptation to look back. Through thick and thin, Malina and KT stuck together. Even when starting from the ground up, as long as they had each other, it’ll be all right. No matter what happens, the only thing that’s certain is that they had no regrets.

Something about Malina’s courage and determination always stuck to me. Her and KT’s loyalty to others was something that didn’t really resonate with me until I got older. Knowing the inspiration behind Malina and KT, their story digs a lot deeper.

I’d like to think Malina and KT eventually had a happy ending. After escaping the country and starting over, after everything they’ve been through, they deserve to be happy. I think that’s what Claire wanted for them too. And for herself especially.

Like with Malina and KT, there’s more to Claire and Matt’s relationship than meets the eye. I wouldn’t say that Claire was unhappy with Matt, but sometimes things don’t work out no matter how hard you try. 

I don’t want to say that Matt is needy - probably high maintenance is a better word - the kind of person who expects everything and nothing less. From experience, those kinds of people can be exhausting to be around, even if they are generally pretty cool. Matt definitely fits into that category. Always venting his problems to someone - usually Claire - and expecting an immediate response, not caring how you feel or whether or not you’re in the mind space to help out or listen. It’s hard to trust someone or confide in them if they don’t respect your boundaries, especially if they almost always make it about them in the end. And to be honest, I think Matt’s the kind of guy who likes to talk just so you’d pay attention to him.

Claire and Matt were married for about eight years before splitting up. By the time Nathan and I met her, their marriage was starting to become shaky with Matt cheating on her and making enemies with a lot of people. I guess what prompted Claire to file for divorce had something to do with their kids - Katie and Brittany - as that was one major factor that prevented the two from breaking up. 

After the divorce, Claire took the girls and left Astra. Matt left too not long after that. He still kept in touch because of the girls so at least he isn’t cut off completely. Claire became a journalist for the Inkwell Gazette so every once in a while I’d come across her articles. She hasn’t released another book since Climb Every Mountain, which is a shame since she’s a good writer. Given what she’s been through, I don’t really blame her though.

While she has always been successful, I don’t think Claire really flourished until she left Matt. I can’t imagine it being easy to make a name for yourself if you’re almost always associated with an heir who’s notable for being troubled. It wasn’t that Matt stifled her - he did the opposite in fact, sometimes to the point where he put her on a pedestal - it was more like Claire can do whatever she wants as long as she puts Matt’s needs over hers. Basically Claire’s a giver, Matt’s a taker.

As for Matt, he’s remained a mystery until a while ago. He pretty much spent the past few years couch hopping, partying, stirring up trouble, and having flings. Then a couple months ago he was driving under the influence - which he’s gotten in trouble for several times - and ended up killing someone in an accident. So he fled the scene and managed to lay low for a while before turning himself in.

There’s definitely more to the story and while a part of me wants to dig deeper, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Also, I doubt there’d be much to find out anyway since this is the kind of thing Matt’s people would want to keep quiet because of scandals and such. At least from what it sounds like, Matt came forward voluntarily so maybe there’s a silver lining. Knowing him though, he’ll probably get a light sentence and then the whole thing will be buried away like it never happened. Then again, Matt’s not a total asshole so maybe this incident will shake him up and teach him a lesson.

I have a feeling that I’m gonna be re-reading Climb Every Mountain a few more times in the near future. It’s definitely one of those books worth revisiting years later.

[rosereview]

Most Anticipated 2020 Releases

So there are so many new books coming out this year that I am super excited for. Most of them are a continuation of a series I love or by an author I really enjoy, so not many of these books will come as a surprise. 

10. My Calamity Jane by Cynthia Hand, Brodi Ashton, & Jodi Meadows

First we have the final book in the Jane Series by these three amazing authors, which isn’t really a series and more like companion books which started with My Lady Jane followed by My Plain Jane. Both of those books were so funny to read and had an interesting supernatural plot that I was really into, set in a historical time period. So I’m really excited for My Calamity Jane to come out.

9. The Nobleman’s Guide to Scandal and Shipwrecks by Mackenzi Lee

This is also the last book to Mackenzi Lee’s Montague Siblings series, which is a historical fiction series that follows each Montague sibling in each book. I thought there were only going to be the first two, so when I saw she was coming out with this third book I was really excited. This historical fiction is also very humorous and tackles a lot of topics that you normally don’t see in historical fictions, so I highly recommend. 

8. Aru Shah and the Tree of Wishes by Roshani Chokshi

I’m really excited for this third book in the Aru Shah series which is part of the Rick Riordan Presents imprint. While the first book was just okay for me, the second book that came out in 2019 has gotten me really excited for the next books in the series. It’s all about Hindu mythology which I found I’m now really interested in, and a really fun adventure with cute and adorable characters that learn a lot of valuable lessons. 

7. Redemption Prep by Samuel Miller

I read Samuel Miller’s debut, A Lite Too Bright this year and it became one of my favourites of the year and of all time. When I saw that he was coming out with another book, I was intrigued, especially when I found out that it was about a boarding school and mystery about a missing girl, I’m now really excited. I found that I really liked mysteries set at a boarding school.

6. The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins

When I was in Elementary school, I became obsessed with reading when I picked up two certain series. One was Percy Jackson and the other was The Hunger Games. Ever since, I’ve just read more and more books and fallen more and more in love with reading and stories, and that wouldn’t have happened without Suzanne Collins. So now that she’s coming out with a prequel novel for The Hunger Games, I can’t not be happy and excited. Honestly I have nothing more to say than that.

5. The Betrothed by Kiera Cass

I’ve been waiting for Kiera Cass’s next book since The Crown came out four years ago. Now I did not love The Heir or The Crown but I did love the Selection trilogy and I want more of that good writing that she did there. I almost lost hope that Kiera Cass would ever finish her mystery project, but now here it comes! I could use some of her royal romances right now.

4. Chosen Ones by Veronica Roth

Veronica Roth is one of my favourite authors and even though she’s had some talking going on around her books, I’ve loved them all and think the things people are saying are false and that they didn’t actually read Carve the Mark because I never read what Miss Roth was accused of, Anyways, despite all that I will gladly continue reading everything she writes because I’ve been impressed every time before.

3. The Hand on the Wall by Maureen Johnson

I need to know what happens in this final book of the Truly Devious series. This series was absolutely amazing and made me love mysteries in boarding schools, and mysteries in general. Now I need to know the end of this epic mysteries and how everything ties together. I really hope I’m not disappointed.

2. Crescent City: House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J Maas

I will read anything that Sarah J Mass writes since she’s my second favourite author of all time. Her writing is so well done and she creates the coolest worlds. I don’t even remember what this is about, but I’ll read it no matter what and probably love it, which is why this my second most anticipated release of 2020.

1. Chain of Gold by Cassandra Clare

Finally we’re at the end, and who would have guessed it would be anything other than a Cassandra Clare book. I’ve been waiting for this book forever! It was supposed to come out in 2019, but due to some health issues with Cassandra Clare we have to wait for March of 2020, which is okay now because we’re getting closer. I already know that this will be very high up on my favourite books of 2020 list. 

And that’s it! Thanks for reading till the end and maybe you found out about some new releases you didn’t know about on this list. 

Until next time!

~Rose Reviews

[comicteaparty]

July 22nd-July 28th, 2020 Reader Favorites Archive

The archive for the Reader Favorites chat that occurred from July 22nd, 2020 to July 28th, 2020.  The chat focused on the following question:

How have your reading tastes for webcomics changed over the years?

carcarchu

i think i used to read exclusively romance webcomics but now i'm really into the historical stuff. also i'm not so into the strictly straightforward stuff anymore, i need a really strong hook or something that makes it different enough to be enjoyable because i'm really tired of reading something that is indistinguishable from other similar webcomics. also i think i've gotten pickier when it comes to the quality of art and writing. there's just so much stuff to pick from now that i want to dedicate my time only to stuff that i really enjoy. i just don't have enough time to read every single webcomic i come across anymore

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

in the past I used to read a bunch of comedic absurdist humor comics (I still do) but it's been buffed out by romance . Same vein like Cara said, I'm just picking and choosing which comics I spend my time on but I do want to try to read as much as I can tho!

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

I feel like I used to read LEGO comics a lot lol... I'm not sure how many of them still hold up. In terms of genre, the only comics I struggle to read are ones that are more realistic, or darker. Historical comics often fall into this, as do most horror comics.(edited)

RebelVampire

For me, my tastes haven't necessarily changed in terms of the what I like. What has changed is what I dislike. As the years have gone by, I've really been more open to at least giving comics a try before deciding they aren't for me, especially in the genres I consistently don't like like comedy. So I've gradually disliked less comics. Not to say I like them either or they're for me, but it's a step up from dislike since now I can appreciate what the comics are trying to do more. I think the bigger change for me was art styles though. While I still do have a specific sort of art preference, I've also been more open to giving certain art styles I don't normally like more of a try as well and I've found the styles I dislike (personally, not objectively in terms of talent) to be a much smaller pool than it was before.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Oh man, I'm the opposite. I feel like I've gotten pickier

varethane

I can't tell if I've gotten pickier or if the bar has just gotten high enough now that if I only have the bandwidth to read X number of webcomics (let's say 20 as a random example), and I'll be picking from among those which stand out to me, those 20 comics will be on a totally different level than the 20 I might have found 10 years ago

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I think I've also gotten pickier

The biggest change, I think, is that I've gotten way pickier about storytelling

While I used to be able to read a comic with subpar storytelling. I drop comics in an instant these days if the story doesn't speak to me pretty quickly(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I think it's because when I started reading comics, everything was new and novel. Now there're more tropes I recognize? And more problematic things that bother me, when before I would not have noticed

Deo101 [Millennium]

I dont think I've gotten pickier, per se, I think I just have very specific tastes and many things dont fit them which feels picky? but i can enjoy all kinds of genres, I kind of go into something 1: not wanting to think 2: not wanting to be offended and 3: wanting to laugh a bit? which isnt exactly a high bar to pass, but not many things will do that for me, which isnt because I'm a picky person, its jsut cause a lot of things arent made for peope like me?

varethane

I'm not consciously looking for 'only the best quality' by any means-- if there's anything I'm really looking for, it's a sense of passion and uniqueness, that feeling that the author is having a blast with the thing they're doing. But I feel like it's gotten harder to draw my attention (and readers' attention in general) without having a certain level of skill involved

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Oh, same. As my art gets better so does my eye for it

varethane

....and, yeah, I guess I've also gotten tired of certain tropes. Once I read 2 or 3 webcomics that do kinda the same thing, I'm less likely to pick up a fourth with the same general premise, even if it looks like it's well-made.

(sorry isekai....)

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I just absorb a lot of storytelling in many forms, so if the story doesn't grab me right away, I feel like I'm wasting time reading something, where I could be fulfilling my desire for more worthwhile storytelling elsewhere

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Oh true, there are so so many comics out there now

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Art quality plays into it a bit for me, but it's honestly primarily the storytelling

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Everything I read I could be reading 100 others of similar quality Really, why does anyone read my comic at all?

varethane

"good art will get readers to take a first look, good writing is what makes them stay"

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Art quality is very important to me but I've still read and loved a few stories will amateurish art

varethane

for me personally, the art's just gotta be good enough for me to not be distracted by it while I read

Deo101 [Millennium]

idk I think a lot of people stay through bad writing even if something looks good

also yeah i feel the same, about not wanting to be distracted

"does the art serve the story?" is all I really care about

varethane

art serving the story is the most important part. Art can LOOK amazing, but if the body language or expressions don't fit the story being told, it can make the writing seem worse lol

a friend of mine once referred to it as, like watching a well-written screenplay but with terrible miscast actors

Deo101 [Millennium]

mhm, cause the only words we get are dialogue, the art has to be all the descriptive language. so if theyre not describing well, a lot is missing.

varethane

yeah

Deo101 [Millennium]

or I guess some comics have narration, too

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Narration can't do ALL of the work

varethane

yeah haha

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah, one of my professors said that a rule of thumb of his about comics is "if you can read me the words and I know whats going on, it's not good comics."

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

The art definitely serves the story (or is supposed to), but if the story is bad from the beginning, I don't care how good the art is.

varethane

I have complicated feelings on that one, because I feel like it's actually pretty rare for me to consider a 'story' bad (at least insofar as we're talking about the core ideas of the plot). Most premises (if they're not actively offensive/poorly thought through), if written out as just a skeletal outline, could work just fine. IMO bad writing is a problem of execution, most of the time, rather than concept. (hedging my language here because there's always exceptions lol)

Deo101 [Millennium]

I would say I agree with you. I think writing and story are different concepts. There is also sort of a macro/micro element to writing, as well, and either one can be messed up

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yeah, I misspoke, what I mean by "bad story" is more "bad storytelling/writing"

but yes

carcarchu

a friend of mine once referred to it as, like watching a well-written screenplay but with terrible miscast actors

@varethane oh i have read stuff like this. like the art was INCREDIBLE really detailed renders, very consistent and technically fantastic art but so often it just devolved into shot / reverse shot talking heads and the characters didn't really emote beyond changing the position of their eyebrows so it kinda felt like watching dolls interact with each other

RebelVampire

I mulled over the fact I took the opposite route as everyone else. XD For me I think it's three factors. First, I was actually ungodly picky in my youth across the board with everything, not just comics. As such, I've missed out on a lot of things other people love. Second, with each passing year, I've come to appreciate more the work people put into their indie projects. And for me its like a show of respect in a way to acknowledge that hey, you worked on this thing I may not like, but I'll try it because you clearly love what you created (or I hope you love it). Third, and probably the bigger factor, I stuck myself in a positive feedback loop. The more I opened myself up to things and learned to not initially dislike things or be as harsh, the more I ended up finding a gem I really loved. In fact, while this is across diff industries, I'd say this has been the biggest influence for me with webcomics because so many webcomics I was like "Well I'll try it gotta be open and not just dislike it," and then I came away going "Wow this is a diamond in the rough!"

[searchingwardrobes]

Name

Happy Birthday, @lenfaz ! I have a confession to make, I almost chickened out posting this. You see, you and I have never really interacted. I’ve just read almost all your fics and subscribe to you on Ao3. So I feel like a fangirl giving this to you. Anyway, I hope you like it. I loved Sea Squad so much, and I tried to put a little bit of that Jones Brothers/adopted family crew vibe to this. And I know from following your blog that you love Liam and Frozen Jewel, so I kept Liam alive in this and gave him a happy ending! Anyway, hope your day has been great!

This fic also solidifies that I have an addiction. An addiction to Lieutenant Duckling and historical war aus. They say the first step is to admit you have a problem . . . Is there a support group?

Summary: Every time Killian saw the beautiful blonde named Emma, she had a different last name. Maybe her whole life she’s been trying to get back to where she started. Inspired by the Goo Goo Dolls song.

Rating: T

Also on Ao3 

Words: 4,000

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @let-it-raines @shireness-says @distant-rose @optomisticgirl @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening

And now we’re grown up orphans that never knew their names. We don’t belong to no one that’s a shame.

 Her name was Emma Smith. His name was Killian Jones. Their parents apparently cared enough to give them the first, but not the second. Hers was knitted in the corner of a baby blanket, his was on a note pinned to the front of his sleeper that merely said: ���His name is Killian. Please take care of him.” Both were left where their parents most likely thought they would be safe: Emma on a bench outside of a hospital, Killian on the front steps of a church. “Baby Smith” and “Baby Jones” were easy labels for those who found them.

Neither would remember the first time they met; sharing a crib in the Catholic orphanage. If they had been born in any other decade, they would have been quickly adopted. But this was 1932, and the nation was in the throes of a Great Depression. There were separate orphanages for boys and girls, so they didn’t share their crib for long. Killian Jones was sent to the state-run boys’ home, and by the time he saw Emma Smith again, she would have a different name.

********************************************************

He was eight years old, and though times were still rough, they were slowly but surely getting better. So much better that people were able to give once again to the less fortunate. There was slightly more food than before, slightly warmer blankets. Yet the Depression had taken its toll, and now there were twice as many orphans.

Still, the Catholic church down the street had enough donations that they could throw a modest Christmas party for the city’s orphans. The boys were spit and polished as much as they could be with what little they had and were marched the several blocks to the church. They were herded into the sanctuary under the strict gaze of their caretakers, and on the stage in front of them were the residents of the girl’s orphanage. As a gift to their guests, they did a concert of Christmas carols.

Killian barely heard the words to the song: all he could focus on was the little blonde girl in the front, her hair glowing in the lights from the flickering candles. She opened her mouth along with the others, words spilling forth, but her eyes were dull. From boredom or cynicism, he couldn’t say, but something about them was so familiar.

In the fellowship hall, the nuns served refreshments and handed out candy and trinkets to the children. There was no Santa – orphans knew better than anyone there was no such person. Killian found the little blonde girl sitting alone, nursing a peppermint stick. He shuffled his feet nervously, then finally blurted out:

“Hi, I’m Killian. Killian Jones.”

She raised both eyebrows. “Emma. Emma Miller.”

He felt himself go hot all the way to the tips of his ears, and he had no idea what to say next.

“Want a peppermint stick?” she asked, holding out a second one clutched in her other fist.

He smiled, taking the proffered sweet and sitting in the chair next to her. Neither remembered sharing a crib as newborns, but they both had the strangest feeling they had known each other a long time. Killian didn’t know that Emma acquired her new name when the Millers adopted her. He didn’t know how they had a baby of their own and sent her back to the orphanage at age three, unable to feed two young mouths. Neither did Emma tell him. As children often do, they spoke of more immediate things and giggled as they used their peppermint sticks as miniature swords.

It would be five more years before they saw one another again.

*****************************************************

Orphanages weren’t pleasant places to grow up. The common opinion was that such children needed strict discipline and a heavy hand. Mercy and grace were rare; tenderness and affection completely absent. Killian lasted until the age of eleven before he just had to get away. Boys of thirteen were cast out anyway to find work. Why wait for the inevitable?

The streets of Boston weren’t kind to a boy of eleven, however, and his freedom came at a high price and an often empty belly. There were street gangs too, and Killian was small for his age. He tried to go unseen, but it was only a matter of time before he crossed the wrong group of street kids. They had him surrounded in an alley behind an Italian restaurant. He had only been searching for food scraps; he hadn’t known it was anyone’s “territory.”

He fought back at first, flinging trash and swinging the lid of the garbage can, but eventually all he could do was duck and cover his head. Maybe if he curled into a small enough ball, they would lose interest. As the kicks and punches rained down on him, he realized how wrong he had been.

Suddenly, there was a shout and one large boy was pulled away from him, then another. The rest of the boys turned to face the new threat, and all Killian could do was scramble behind the largest trash can. He peeked around the side of it to watch three boys take on his attackers. One had sandy colored, close cropped hair and looked about his age. Another had light brown curls and was broad and strong, raining down punches with a righteous indignation in his eyes. Killian guessed he had to be at least fifteen, maybe older. The third was armed with a slingshot. The other boys couldn’t get close enough for hand to hand combat without getting pelted. He was probably somewhere in the middle of the other two age wise, perhaps thirteen.

It wasn’t long before the gang were sent running. Whoever these three were, they were tough in a fight. The question was, were they rescuing Killian or wanting him for themselves? And if the second, what for? For that reason, Killian made himself as small as possible behind the trash cans.

“It’s okay, you can come out,” one boy called to him.

“We won’t hurt you,” a second assured.

Hesitantly, Killian came out from hiding. He tasted blood on his lip, and his temple throbbed. He was sure he looked pitiful. Nevertheless, the oldest of the three boys smiled in a way that put him at ease.

“What’s your name, kid?” he asked him.

“Killian. Killian Jones.”

The teenager’s grin broadened. “No kidding. My name is Jones too – Liam Jones.”

It turned out Liam had gotten his last name the same way Killian had – from being an abandoned nobody. He was going on sixteen, and the unofficial big brother of the group. The other eleven-year-old was David, and the thirteen-year-old with the slingshot was Robin. They weren’t a gang, just friends who looked out for each other because they were alone on the streets. They adopted Killian, called him “little brother” (David liked to point out he was almost twelve at every opportunity), and for the first time in his life, he was part of a family.

****************************************************

The orphaned kids of the depression were now orphaned teenagers – juvenile delinquents, according to the adults. The streets were filled with them. The ones who were old enough had joined up for the war, most of them never to return. The rest plagued the city and were easy prey to adult crime bosses. Girls were less common on the streets, but they were there. They were even more vulnerable to exploitation than the boys.

Liam said to stay away from girls; they were nothing but trouble. David had a soft spot for one particular girl with dark hair who was just as good with a slingshot as Robin. She’d run away from her stepmother after her father died. Killian was thirteen now, David nearing fourteen, Robin was fifteen, and Liam himself was almost eighteen. Liam’s “no girls” rule was quickly becoming a lost cause.

Killian saw her again for the first time in five years warming herself around a fire in a trash can behind an old canning factory. Many street children and even homeless adults had taken to socializing here, and even though there was a code of sorts, young girls were still vulnerable here.

A gray hat was pushed down onto Emma’s head, but the gold in her hair still shone bright by the flickering light. She held her hands, clad in threadbare gloves, up to the warmth. He approached her slowly, as if she were an apparition that might disappear.

“Emma?”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide. He must not have looked threatening (he was still rather small at thirteen, he hated to admit) because her face quickly relaxed. She tilted her head, studying him closely. He patted his chest.

“Killian Jones. The Christmas party?”

A smile slowly filled her face. “Of course. I wouldn’t forget a name like Killian.”

“Neither have I forgotten yours.”

She lifted one shoulder dismissively. “It isn’t Miller anymore, though. It’s Emma Swan now.”

“I like it,” he told her, “it suits you.”

She ducked her head, a blush staining her cheeks. “Well, the Millers threw me away, so why would I want their name?”

“May I ask why you picked Swan?”

She chewed at her lower lip. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Never.”

She let out a long sigh. “The story of the ugly duckling.”

“Ahh, I see. He was really a swan all along.”

She shrugged again.

“Like I said,” he told her, leaning closer, “I like it.”

Liam had said “no girls,” but Mary Margaret was already a constant fixture in their group, so Emma was welcomed, albeit a bit reluctantly on Liam’s part. They found an old tenement apartment, condemned by the city, to crash in. Emma was a master thief and contributed to the group’s provisions so well that she eventually won even Liam over. And when Liam brought Elsa home, shivering, her lips almost blue, the “no girls” rule was officially dead.

Elsa was different, it turned out, a runaway but with a family who loved her and never stopped looking for her. It was her sister Anna who found her crashing in the remains of the tenement and begged her to come home. No one was surprised when Elsa caved. Anna had an innocence about her that was difficult to resist. And in that moment, everything changed.

Liam was eighteen now and in love with Elsa. A girl who actually came from a decent home with a decent family. Liam had to prove himself worthy of her; it was time for him to makes something of himself. Couldn’t the rest of them understand that?

“So what will you do?” Killian asked, his jaw clenching to hold back the tears. At some point, Liam had become the bar he strove for. They may have shared a last name by chance, but in every other way Liam was his big brother. His idol.

“I’m joining the Navy.”

“Then so will I,” Robin vowed, surging to his feet.

“Me too,” David added, chin tilted in defiance.

A feeling of pride and belonging swelled in Killian’s chest. “A band of brothers. Forever.”

Mary Margaret stood by with unshed tears shining in her eyes. But Emma . . .

“You are all assholes, you know that?” she screamed, her hands fisted at her sides.

Then she ran.

Killian found her down by the docks, looking out at sea. He stood beside her wordlessly, slipping his hand in hers.

“The ocean is big,” she said.

He nodded.

“I’ll never see you again.”

“You could join too,” Killian said, his voice rising as he warmed up to the idea, “girls can, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not until they’re twenty, and besides, girls can only be nurses or secretaries. That’s not me.”

He hung his head. He knew she was right – he couldn’t see her doing either of those things and being happy.

“You’re still going, aren’t you?”

The sea wind had blown hair in her face again, and Killian reached out to tuck it behind her ear. “When I turn eighteen, yes.”

Honestly, at fourteen, it seemed a lifetime away. He had a lifetime to be here with Emma, so he traced her jaw with his fingertips and leaned in close. It was his first kiss and hers too. Their lips pressed together awkwardly; their noses bumped; they giggled and tried again. It was perfect.

*****************************************************

Four years, it turned out, wasn’t a lifetime. It was, however, long enough for Killian Jones to fall completely, hopelessly in love with Emma Swan. He and David were heading to basic training, and Emma and Mary Margaret were there to say goodbye. Mary Margaret already had an engagement ring on her finger. David had proposed the day he enlisted, just as Robin had before him with his girlfriend Marian and Liam with Elsa before that.

Emma, on the other hand, had warned Killian weeks before, “If you propose to me just because you’re joining the Navy, I swear to God, I will punch you in the face.”

Now they stood in a crowded bus station, and Killian wished he had a more private location to say what was on his heart. He couldn’t stop kissing her, couldn’t stop threading his fingers through her hair. He reached into the front of his shirt and pulled out the ring he wore on a chain around his neck.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah,” Emma protested, holding up a hand, her eyes wide.

“Calm down, I’m not proposing,” he assured her with a teasing glint to his eyes. He may have imagined it, but Emma actually looked slightly disappointed. He pressed the garnet ring into her palm and closed her fingers over it. “This ring was sewn into my baby blanket when I was left on the church steps. I want you to have it. I did as you asked by not proposing, but . . . “ he took a deep breath before looking deeply into her eyes, “I love you Emma. I vow to find my way home to you, always. Will you wait for me?”

The color drained from her face, and a sadness filled her eyes. “I’m sorry, Killian,” she whispered, pushing the ring back into his hand, “I can’t.”

“What?” he felt suddenly unsteady.

She shook her head rapidly, golden strands of hair brushing her cheeks, “I can't lose you.”

“You won’t.”

“You can’t know that.”

Not knowing how to respond, he surged forward and kissed her with all the feeling that threatened to consume him. She kissed him back with equal fervor, and he knew it was only her fear holding her back. He pressed the ring back into her palm.

“I still want you to keep it.”

Killian understood Emma better than anyone, so when he left her at the bus station that day, he told himself that her love for him would be enough. She was just too scared to admit it. He would keep his vow, and when he got home, the two of them would have a future together. When letters didn’t come during basic training, he still held onto hope and his love for Emma.

Then June 25th, 1950 came. War was declared on Korea. Killian had been sending Emma letters religiously, and he sent her one to let her know he was shipping out. Still he got nothing in response. It didn’t matter to him, though, he would keep his vow anyway.

***************************************************

It was 1953 and Killian Jones was a young man of twenty. He was war torn, minus a left hand, but he hadn’t lost his tenacity. A man who isn’t willing to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets. Growing up in an orphanage during the depression, living on the streets as a teen, and serving in the military had all taught him that. His band of brothers had all made it through alive: Liam, Robin, and David were all home and settling down with their young wives. How many others could say that? Now all he had to do was find the woman he loved and show her he had kept his vow. He didn’t even worry about his disability; it would just show Emma how much he had fought to get home to her.

Neither Mary Margaret or Elsa knew where she was; Emma had withdrawn from them shortly after the men left. That didn’t stop Killian, though. He returned to their old haunts in the city, asking everyone if they had seen her recently, showing off a well-worn photograph that had survived a war.

Finally, his searching had brought him here, to a modest apartment complex in Eastie. He straightened his shoulders and knocked.

Of all the times he had imagined seeing Emma again, he had never pictured her with a six-month- old baby on her hip. Yet there the child was, big brown eyes staring at Killian as he rested his chubby cheek on his mother’s shoulder.

“Swan!” he still couldn’t help blurting out.

“It’s Cassidy now,” she told him carefully, “Emma Cassidy.”

The new last name was like a physical blow. His gaze flickered to her left hand. There was no ring.

“Umm,” she said nervously, her free hand running through her hair. It still shimmered like gold, her eyes were still that clear shade of green. She was still breathtaking, perhaps even more so. She was a woman now.

“Can I come in?”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” she agreed, ushering him in. She shut the door behind them, then set the baby down in a high chair beside the kitchen table. The apartment was small, the living room and kitchen one space. She handed the baby a zwieback cracker, which he gummed happily. “He’s teething,” Emma explained as she straightened, hands fluttering nervously, “so I hope he doesn’t fuss.”

Killian swallowed as they stood there awkwardly staring at one another. Finally, he just blurted it out, “You got married?”

Emma shuffled her feet and stared at the floor. “For only about two seconds, but yeah.”

“So you’re not anymore?”

She merely shook her head.

“Emma, why?” he asked brokenly.

“I never promised you anything.” She tilted her head in defiance as she said it, yet the tremor in her chin and the moisture in her eyes sent the opposite message.

“Did you love him?”

Emma rubbed her palms on her house dress and bit her lower lip. Finally, she deflated and sighed. “What’s the point in lying to you? You could always see right through me.”

She collapsed into the kitchen chair, her head dropping to her hand. Killian’s heart broke a little at the sight, and part of him longed to go to her and just take her in his arms.

“I ignored your letters because I was afraid, but part of me still hoped we could pick back up where we left off when you got home. Then the war started . . . “ she lifted her head then to look at him, pleading with her eyes for him to understand. “My fear turned to absolute terror. I guess I thought if I could let you go in my heart, it wouldn’t tear me apart if . . . if . . . you never came home again.”

Killian’s jaw ticked, anger welling up inside. “So you what? Started sleeping around?”

She didn’t even attempt to argue with him or defend herself. “Yes. Neal, Henry’s father, was the only one who kept coming back around. The one-night stands weren’t doing the trick, so when Neal swore he loved me, I thought maybe he was the answer.” She paused, tracing the pattern on the plastic floral placemat in front of her. Killian gave her time. “When Henry came, he told me he wasn’t cut out for fatherhood, and just . . . left us. And here we are.”

She looked up at him and shrugged. She was right, he knew her so well. The shrugs, the nonchalant choice of words, all of it attempted to mask the pain he saw shining in her eyes.

“What did you mean the one-night stands weren’t doing the trick?”

Emma blinked. “Ummm . . . making me forget you.”

“And your . . . “ he closed his eyes, almost choking on the next word, “husband . . . did he do the trick?”

A single tear tracked down Emma’s face. “No.”

Silence descended between them, broken when Henry started banging on his high chair tray. He babbled “mama” in a fussy, demanding tone, and Emma hurried to get him another zwieback cracker. Once the baby was satisfied, she turned to Killian with a dejected air.

“I know it’s too late,” she told him sadly.

Killian crossed the room in long, easy strides. Her eyes widened in surprise when he grasped her upper arms. Her eyes flickered to his stump, and he realized how right he had been. She had only just now noticed. She took it in her hands, pressing her eyes closed as tears flowed freely.

“Killian,” she breathed, “what happened?”

“I survived,” he told her simply, “because I had a vow to keep.”

She gasped as she fixed her gaze on him. “You must hate me.”

He shook his head. “Never. Let me ask you one question Emma, and I want you to be completely honest. Whatever your answer, I’ll honor it. Do you still love me?”

She reached out a trembling hand to trace his jaw. “Yes,” she whispered, “I never stopped.”

Killian pressed his forehead to hers. “Neither did I. No matter where life has taken me, it always seems to lead me right back to you.”

When he claimed her lips with his, she kissed him back with abandon, her entire body trembling at his touch.

“You found me,” she said over and over against his lips, and he tasted the salt of her tears.

Emma Smith. Emma Miller. Emma Swan. Emma Cassidy. Killian had loved her even before he knew what a soul mate was. Yet nothing compared to the name she took on a beautiful spring day in 1954 – Emma Jones. It was as if it were always meant to be hers.

[selfcallednowhere]

March 3, 2018 San Francisco, CA

This was my second time being at the Fillmore, after an Apollo 18 show a couple of years ago. It's a really awesome venue! I just love all things historic, and it really is just a cool venue even aside from that--I especially love the beautiful chandeliers (so does Flans, but I'll get to that).

So I was hoping they were actually gonna change the setlist this time after having the exact same one the previous two nights, and there are few songs that could've made me more excited than what they opened with: "Everything Right is Wrong Again"!!! Seeing the songs I have lyric tattoos from is always so intense for me. I've seen the other one, "Ana Ng," quite a few times, but this was only the third time I'd seen this one, and it was a majorly big deal. So that was the show highlight right off the bat!

After the song was over Flans said it was a sold out show, and that selling it out had "changed our whole self-image" and now they were "strutting around all arrogant and sticking our fingers into other people's chests." Then he said they were playing two sets and he wanted us to hold our applause for the second set (he actually said "second show," but he clearly meant to say "second set") and "treat us like any other opener" and feel free to do things like catch up on our emails.

Then he asked John how his day was (I love that he usually asks him this, because I'm always curious). John said that he'd slept for most of it, and Flans said he had too but he'd been trying to keep it a secret. Then he said it was part of his "two-part program: sleep all day, then drink an insane amount of coffee."

Then they had some whole long conversation about this self-help guru I don't really know named Tony Robbins. Flans said he'd just watched some Netflix documentary about him, which he expected to be some sort of exposé but was actually "a Trojan horse for him." John said he makes you not believe in self-help and think "I'll help myself, thank you very much." Then he said that his act has gotten a lot more obscene and he's now saying things like "How do you fucking feel?" whereas before he was more "G-rated." Then Flans said he'll yell at someone who "looks like someone's grandmother 'What the fuck is wrong with you?'" John said we should watch this documentary, and Flans said we should set a timer and just watch it for ten minutes.

Then Flans said they were going to be playing "new songs, old songs, and songs we barely know how to play." People cheered, and he said, "Those are our favorites too." Then he said they have a new album and it's really good. John: "We were holding the vial of good and someone jostled our elbow." Then Flans said they're "chuffed" about how good it is.

After "I Left My Body" and "Damn Good Times" (both great as per usual), Flans said the previous song had featured "the psychedelic experience of Dan Miller," and that the Fillmore is "no stranger to endless guitar sounds." Then he said that he didn't have "enough weird guitar sounds" on the next song, and John said that "the stakes are higher" cos it's the Fillmore.

Next they played "Mrs. Bluebeard"--John did not break his sad little streak of screwing up the lyrics every single time I've seen it, siiiiiiiiigh.

After "Your Racist Friend," they played "I Palindrome I," which was another delightful surprise and show highlight for sure--I've only seen it a handful of times, and it's such a good song.

Then, John picked up the contra-alto clarinet.

JF: This is the contra-alto clarinet. The signal for political revolution! JL: Cells, awaken! JF: If not here, when? If not now, where? Maybe I'm harping on this too much. *long pause*

Then they played "All Time What." Afterwards, Flans said that Dan had provided "an adult portion of high notes" on that song.

At the Fillmore they have a person walking around carrying a tray over their head bringing people drinks so they don't have to leave their spot to go to the bar. So the girl who was doing it this time was walking up near the stage (she was nice, I chatted with her a bit at the second show) and Flans said, "It would be interesting if that person didn't work here. There's not enough mustache wax in the world to top that. Not enough top hats in the world to mustache wax that."

Then they played "Bangs" and "Hearing Aid." They're doing an interesting cacophony of sound at the end of the latter, and it's good with Curt's trumpet too. That song is one of the ones I rank lowest on Flood (I don't hate it or anything, just not particularly into it), but it's still been rather enjoyable live somehow (I've been having that experience with quite a few songs that are currently in the set, actually).

Then Flans said that he's seen some movie called Last Waltz (another pop culture reference that was entirely lost on me) like 14 times, so when they play here he imagines an announcer announcing Neil Diamond. Then he asked if they could turn the chandeliers on "at a low volume." Then he said that there was going to be a "Neil Diamond/Van Morrison cage match--only one pantsuit will survive." Then John said that they've played a bunch of shows here before but he can't remember the chandeliers ever being turned on before, and Flans said you have to play a sold-out show to make it happen. They were very pretty, once they were on!

Then they played "The Mesopotamians." I've been burned out on this song live for quite some time, just cos I've seen it a million times, so I was pleasantly surprised when I actually enjoyed it this time.

Next they did the back-to-back thing that I was loving so much at the other shows of "When the Lights Come On" followed by "Nothing's Gonna Change My Clothes." GOD, I cannot even handle how good it is seeing two songs as amazing as those two back-to-back like that.

After that, Flans was describing the chandeliers as jellyfish, which was really silly. He said he wished he'd taken some psychedelic drugs to appreciate them more.

JF: There's some commercial on cable TV for some memory tablet that says "Includes an active ingredient found in jellyfish." Because jellyfish remember everything. GUY IN AUDIENCE: IT'S THE STINGER! JF: Yeh, I guess if you're stung by a jellyfish you won't forget it. JL: And neither will the jellyfish. JF: There has to be a German word for that sort of dream logic...This next song features the whole band. JL: The word "features" is being taffy-pulled to mean "includes." JF: It includes an ingredient found in jellyfish.

The song was "This Microphone," which I have been enjoying live (though I think there are several other songs from the album that would be even more suited to a live setting which they haven't yet played for some reason). Afterwards, Flans said they should play it again because there had been some sort of sound coming off the amp during it (I didn't hear anything). He said it reminded him of playing at the 9:30 Club, "where the PA liked to jam with us." Then a couple of crew guys came out to set up new amps, and Flans seemed pretty upset by them having to do this in the middle of the show. He said that one of them was "on the lam from the FBI" and that the other (Jon Carter, one of the very few crew members I can recognize just because he's been working with them forever) is from Vermont and is "made of pure maple syrup."

Flans said they only had a couple more songs to get through before the break between sets. John suggested they take the break now cos of the technical difficulties, but Flans didn't want to for some reason.

To kill time they started talking about Tony Robbins again. Flans said, "He doesn't have an asterisk, but I think he's icing," and that "his head and body are huge. He's going to join the Marvel team." John said he would be saying "How do you fucking feel now?," and Flans said he would be saying "Admit it, Hulk, your mom never loved you!" Then they were asking if the amp was working now and were apparently told that it had been working for several minutes. John: "They're waiting for us!"

So then they played "Hey, Mr. DJ, I Thought You Said We Had a Deal," and as usual I was completely rocking out. And then they played "Birdhouse in Your Soul," and I was thinking that I didn't know if I could handle rocking out to that one when I'd already rocked out so hard to the previous one. But rock out I did!

The second set started the usual way: the "Last Wave" video, then the Quiet Storm section beginning with "Older." John was doing the amusing/creepy pointing as he sang it thing again.

Afterwards, Flans said this section of the show features electronic drums, trumpet, and his "haunted mic chip," followed by some silly sounds.

They played "I Like Fun," then Flans introduced "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too" in a way I haven't heard him do it before. He said that these are "contentious times, troubling times" and this next song is an election song from 1840 and is  "mean-spirited and super-hostile," so we should take this as evidence that things being that way now isn't new and "things get better, then they get shittier again, but that doesn't mean it's over." I thought this was an interesting way of thinking of it, and I wonder if it was part of the motivation for them bringing the song into the set.

So they played the song, and then John introduced "James K. Polk" in the same way he has been (with some variation)--by saying that this song is from WAY IN THE FUTURE of 1844, where there are "flying driverless beards" and "electric buggy whips."

After they finished, they bowed, and when they stood all the way up again John said he should finish the bow by playing a flourish on his accordion. I know he was just being silly, but I actually thought that would be cool.

Then they were joking again about the "haunted mic stand." John: "When they got home they found that the mic stand was attached to the car handle somehow!"

Then Flans said their next song was going to be from 1848, and sang the silly "Zachary Taylor has a tail" song he made up the night before. Then he said their next song was from 1852, but neither of them could remember who was president then. Someone yelled that it was Pierce. Flans said he couldn't think of anything to make up about him, and John said he was one in a string of crappy presidents. Flans asked him how, and he said he did things that were contributing factors to the start of the Civil War (I was as always quite excited to hear him showing off his intellect). Then he said his son died in a train wreck so they weren't really allowed to make fun of him, which led to some silence and nervous laughter. Flans: "I think we should take a moment of silence for how badly we're managing this part of the show. It's gone completely off the rails." (Perhaps not the best choice of words in light of what was just said...)

Then they played MY THEME SONG, and it was incredibly special and moving and emotional for me just like every other time I've seen it.

After "Istanbul," Flans started introducing "Bills, Bills, Bills." Once again he was talking about "Tubthumping" first, and some people were cheering, presumably thinking they were going to play that one instead. "For those of you not applauding, don't worry, we're not going to play that song. Because it is a song that, once heard, cannot be unheard."

After "Particle Man" and "The Famous Polka," Flans introduced "Wicked Little Critta" by saying, "Though we're from New York City, we have deep origins in New England. Haunted, cranky, emotionally unavailable New England."

Afterwards, Flans said the next song features Dan on acoustic guitar. John: "It features the word 'feature' as well." Then Flans said Marty only plays kick drum for the whole song, and they tried to talk him into playing other things but he refused.

At some point the chandeliers had turned off, and Flans was saying he wanted them to come on again. People started chanting "Jellyfish! Jellyfish!" I saw Flans saying it too, but I didn't hear him say it at the beginning and I wasn't looking at him right then, so I'm not sure if he was actually the one who started it or if it just started spontaneously in the crowd and then he picked up on it. Then he said that whoever was in charge probably wasn't going to listen because "they might think the band Jellyfish is reuniting." Then: "It's clear someone is on their break." But then they did come on and everyone cheered.

After "Number Three" and "Answer," Flans introduced "Man, It's So Loud in Here" by saying that a few months ago they'd done a Mink Car show. "We played all the songs we know how to play. We left out the ones we don't know how to play, cos we thought that might be socially awkward."

Next was "Twisting" (rocked my face off, as always), and then it was time for band intros. Flans introduced Curt, Dan, and Danny, then he said, "Well, that just about does it!" John was really amused. But then of course he did actually introduce Marty after that, he was just pretending to have forgotten him to be funny.

They closed out the main set with "Doctor Worm," which was superfun as usual.

When they came back for the first encore, they had the house lights on.

JL: Now you know how it feels for us. JF: Confess! I want to do a special long-distance dedication to the guy flipping double birds. I know where you're coming from. I just keep it inside.

Then Flans was saying that in the dressing room they have a poster from some time the Black Crowes (man, this show was just full of pop culture references that went entirely over my head) played five nights in a row, which makes it seem like not such a big deal for them to do two.

The first encore was the same as the previous two nights: "Dead" followed by "Don't Let's Start." Even though it was no longer a surprise at this point, I was still ecstatic to see them playing two of my all-time favorite songs back-to-back.

When they were backstage again between the first encore and the second, I was trying to figure out what the second encore might be. At the previous two shows it was "Doctor Worm," but they'd already played that one so that couldn't be it this time. I decided that I'd love it if it was "No One Knows My Plan," cos I really wanted to conga again.

So they came back and Flans said, "We just have one more song. It's a dance party. We're done thinking, it's time to start dancing." And then they played "The Guitar," which yeh makes a great closer and normally I would've been perfectly contented with it, but since the idea had come into my head minutes before I'd just really had my heart set on "No One Knows My Plan," and Flans's "just one more song" absolutely ruled the possibility out.

But then! But then!! They surprised me by ACTUALLY PLAYING IT!!! I was SO EXCITED. Congaing during that song is seriously THE MOST FUN FUCKING THING EVER. The first two times I got to do it the people in front of me jumped out halfway through the song and I couldn't see where I could get in again, but this time I got to do it for the whole song, and it was so fun. Towards the end two parts of the line were passing by each other and we just all started high-fiving as we went by each other, and I was thinking that we knew how to have a real good time as opposed to all the people who were just standing around watching and MISSIN' OUT. A truly fantastic ending to a fantastic show!

The all-important JL wardrobe report: the same long-sleeved black shirt as the night before for the main set, but a black-and-white stripey t-shirt for the encores.

[sasuhinasno1fan]

A day with the prince

So when I saw it was historical day today I remembered a fic I did for a secret santa exchange just last year and I wanted to write the next part for it, so check here for the story so you can get full understanding. I tried to explain as much as possible in the beginning so it wouldn't be too confusing. Histoical

Keith saddled up the horses, trying not to burst from joy. He won the tournament the day before, the prize for a day with any member of the royal family. There was only one person he wanted to be with, the one person who he was willing to fight for. Prince Lance, cousin to the Queen Allura. They hadn’t gotten along at first but after Keith defended Lance from an assignation attempt, they grew closer. To earn a day alone with Lance and to keep him from those stuck up knights, Keith competed in a tournament and won. Before the final match, Lance snuck into his tent and they teased each other back and forth about where Lance wanted to go and Keith was going to make it a reality today.

With both horses saddled and ready to go, Keith led them from the stables and out near the front of the castle where a woman was waiting for him.

“Shay.” Keith greeted, as the woman came down the stairs and towards him.

“Here you go. A fully stocked picnic and a blanket.” She said, handing Keith two saddle bags, which he attached to his own horse. “I heard that the prince ordered no guards to follow.”

Keith patted the sword he’d spent the night before the banquet sharpening. “The Prince said he didn’t want to be bothered.”

“I’m sure.” Shay answered with a teasing smile.

Keith shook his head. “You and your husband are exactly the same.”

“Well I married Hunk for a reason.”

Keith rolled his eyes, making sure everything was set while he waited for a certain member of the royal family to come. When he heard the multiple movement of armour, he looked up to see the Queen’s guards stream down the stairs and take their place as the Queen stepped down the stairs, Lance following. Shay and Keith quickly bowed, the Queen just as quick to tell them to rise.

“Keith, my cousin has asked me not to send guards with him because he believes someone trained by Takashi will be perfectly capable of protecting him. I’ve agreed, as long as he takes his own weapon with him,” she stated as Lance walked past her, his famed blue bow in his hand, along with a quiver of arrows and attached them to his horse’s saddle. “I expect him to come back in one piece, with no life threatening injuries on him.”

“Yes my lady.” Keith answered.

“Very well. Lance, try not to get into trouble.”

“Trouble finds me.” Lance said, as Adam came over and assisted him onto his horse.

“I’ll keep him out of trouble your majesty. As best as I can.” Keith promised.

“I supposed that’s the best I can ask. We shall await your return then.”

Keith bowed again to the Queen before climbing onto his horse.

“Ready?” he asked Lance.

“Lead the way fair knight.”

With a gentle kick to the side, Keith’s horse took off towards the gates, Lance’s own following. They soon left the cobble stone path and took one that lead into the forest. Keith noticed Lance bringing his horse next to his own and giving him this challenging look.

“Shame you didn’t do jousting. Is your horse even fast enough for that?”

“You want to find out?”

“I think I can guess the answer. Go Sapphire!” Lance’s horse pulled up ahead and Keith started to follow when he remembered the food. He could imagine how Shay would react if she found out her meals had been ruined because of a competitive match.

Lance didn’t stay ahead for long though. When he realised he was alone in his race he stopped Sapphire and turned her to face Keith. “It’s no fun if you let me win.”

“It’ll be no fun either if our food is messed up from our race and Shay finds out.”

“Oh, of course. She would skewer us with one of Hunk’s swords.” Lance thought out loud.

“Besides, I was hoping that I could ride next to you anyway.”

Lance gave Keith a shy smile. He loved that smile, whenever Keith would go and return Lance’s sugar laced words, Lance would give him that smile.

“Sure.” They let their horse walk near each other, close enough feel the other’s horse, their body heat making them think of the rider.

“So I heard the Prince Lotor took off last night.” Keith asked.

Lance let out a scoff. “He didn’t want anyone to know he was beaten by an ‘errand boy’ as he put it when he told my cousin last night. I was more than happy to see him leave.” Lance said.

“I’m sure. Of course, this errand boy had more than enough satisfaction throwing him to the floor.”

“I almost wished he tried attacking you when your back was turned so I could actually attack him and not get in trouble for it.” Lance complained.

“Sorry I couldn’t give you the chance.”

Lance shrugged. “You can make it up today.”

“Yes your highness.”

Before they knew it, they found the willow tree and river next to it. They stopped their horses and Keith climbed down when Lance cleared his throat. He was now sitting side saddle and seemed to want help down. With his hands on the prince’s waist, Keith pulled Lance down, not moving when Lance’s feet reached the floor putting him quite near Keith.

“Thank you.” Lance said with the look on his face.

“Of course. You can take the saddle bags and get things set up while I take care of the horses.”

“Yes sir knight.” Lance said, slowly pulling away and moving to Keith’s horse and taking the saddle bags off. Keith kept his eyes on him as the prince walked over and moved behind the tree’s natural curtain. He took the saddles off and lead the horses to a grass filled spot and tied them to a tree before going to Lance.

Shay had thought ahead and had packed a blanket for them, which Lance was sitting on as he pulled things out from the bags.

“I guess it’s good you didn’t race me.” Lance said as he pulled out a glass bottle and gently put it on the flattest part of the ground. “It looks like Shay’s famous sweetened drink.”

“I see she pulled out all the stops.” Keith said, sitting next to Lance and pulled his dagger from its holder and started to peel an apple.

“All our favourite things. I still can’t believe you actually like those god awful sandwiches.”

“What? The fish one? They’re not bad.” Keith said, smiling at how Lance’s nose crinkled.

“They make my fingers smell weird.”

“That’s because you pick it out all the time. If you just ate it, you wouldn’t have that problem.” Keith pointed out, flicking the peeled skin off to the side for any animal to have. He cut the apple into wedges one by one, letting Lance take it when it was cut. They were silent, only the sounds of the forest and the river surrounding them.

Lance had finished the apple and Keith was sucking the juice off his fingers when he felt Lance lean on his shoulder, resting his hand on his arm.

“I’m glad you won. I’ve wanted a day to have you all to myself.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you that earlier.”

He felt Lance shake his head. “It’s ok. This is fine. You know, I do need a manservant.”

“Do you now?”

“I don’t do much during the day anyway. I see no reason you can’t help Ulaz and help me.”

“I’m sure your cousin would see right through that.” Keith pointed out.

“Oh trust me, with how often she disappears with Adam and Shiro, I don’t think she can complain.”

Keith laughed and rested his head on Lance’s. “Blackmailing the Queen is considered treason. I don’t think even being her cousin will get you out of that.”

Lance let out an annoyed huff and pulled away from Keith, moving so he could lay down with his head on Keith’s lap. “You’d think you’d be excited at the prospect of spending more time with me.”

Leaning over so he could see Lance’s face and giving him his own version of that smile Lance would give him. “I can assure you, spending any moment with you is exciting.”

[tommyquackson]

The Plant That Grew From the Root of All Evil |P. Parker| Part 2

summary: you’re no good girl, no you’re quite the opposite, chaos itself even, yet somehow, he still affects you // in which a villan and a superhero cross paths

warnings: murder, violence, witchcraft and possesions?, cursing of curse, and torture (lowkey intense) 

pairing: peter parker x villan!reader

authors note: this isnt exactly a love fic?? cause like it was more about their lives than eachother.. but idk i may change the last part and have them end up together, let me know though...

“Hey Pete, we still going to Mays for sunday dinner?” Ned asks his best friend and roommate. Peter is jolted out of his deep thoughts and research.

“Oh uh yea, text may and tell her we’ll be there in like in like 30 mins. I’ll text Tony.” He says finishing up reading the article he was on.

“What’re you working so hard on? Like we just finished midterms.” Ned walks behind peter to see what he’s reading.

“It’s just, some girl. You know Angel?”

“Angel....Oh! The badass lady villain you’ve been fighting?”

Peter gives his best friend a look of confusion.

“Uh..I mean, that bad criminal that’s wreaking havoc and that the amazing spider-man is gonna take down?” Ned corrects with a guilty smile on his face.

“Yea, well i found out she’s got, like i don’t know powers? I guess”

“What kind of powers?” Ned pulls up a chair to sit.

“I’m not sure” Peter rubs his face in thought. “Like strength and speed but it’s not like crazy noticeable. She-she-her eyes like glow? yea they glow like red and it’s creepy and I have no idea where she even came from.”

“Why don’t you ask that girl from high school? Remember everyone said she was like a pagan or something and she practiced dark magic and stuff. Maybe she knows something about it. What was her name? Something like-“

“Y/n!” Peter knows exactly who that is. She’d always been extremely quiet. She stayed in the library most days and seemed to always be studying dark magic and weird stuff like that.

How was he supposed to find you though, you’d dropped out of school 2 months before graduation. You didn’t have any friends and no one knew anything about you.

“I have no idea where she could even be” Peter says defeated.

“Oh she works part time at the library next to the little park. It’s just a train ride away. Can’t take more than 10 minutes.” Ned says moving to pull up the place on Peters laptop.

“Ned, you’re the best man in the chair a hero could ask for” Peter says winking at him, making ned swell with pride. “We can go tomorrow after classes, now come on. May and Tony are waiting”

Your day job was nothing short of fairly boring, you worked at the library near a small community college so you really only had to deal with students trying to study and little kids reading picture books. The library was fairly big so each librarian handled their own section. You handled the history and “magic/religion” section. But since that section was usually only littered with students trying to write a history paper, you stayed at the front desk on your floor.

Today, you’ve been at work since 9am and it’s already 3pm. You don’t get to leave until 8. You’re sitting at the desk, filing through the books that are recorded as late. You hear the door to your section open and you look up to greet whoever’s there.

“Hello, welcome to Green Acres, History and Magic/Religions section what can I do for you?” You speak kindly to the 2 college aged boys who walked in with their backpacks.

“Hey, this is probably super weird, but we actually wanted to talk to you” The smaller, white one speaks as he gets to the desk.

“Umm-“

“Sorry my friend Peter, made that seem really weird. I’m Ned, we went to high school with you. We just had a few questions and we figured given your occupation you’d be the best to help us” The larger one says stepping in front of “Peter”.

How’d they know you worked here, you haven’t talked to anyone from high school. Which occupation is he talking about, do they know about your secret identity. If so, how you’d been so careful.

“Okay...well what’d ya wanna know?” You relaxing into your chair a bit.

“We have questions about like powers... A friend of mine, she um, well they started behaving strangely and I was wondering if you could help figure out what was wrong?” Peter says tapping his long fingers on the desk.

“oh, sorry i’m in the magic and historical and section you’d be better off asking Mrs. Alice in the health and personal care section.” I say wondering why this boy would need my help. I’m not a doctor.

“oH! Yea I know, but my friend, we uh, we suspect that it has something to maybe do with possible magic?”

“You think you’re friend has gotten in to magic?” You raise your eyebrow.

“I know it sounds crazy but please you’re the only person i could think of to help me”

“Why because everyone at Midtown thought I was a dark and evil witch” You speak standing up from your desk and walking towards the shelves.

“No! No- I just, you used to study witchcraft and i figured since you work in the history section you could tell me if this has happened before. I didn’t mean to imply your a witch, that would be rude but I-“

“Who said they were wrong” You wink before guiding the boys towards a dimly lit section. “So, What’s happening with your friend” You say pulling out your favorite books.

“Well, she uh she’s much stronger than she was before, and she’s faster and more agile. She also has this um, this like type of glow around her? It’s like black and then her eyes glow red”

“Mhm, whole eye or just the iris?” You speak turning to one book.

“iris”

You look at the pages that detail when spells go wrong. Nothing describes the right situation. You turn to entities that may be possibly possessing the friend.

“I’m not seeing anything, wait, you said she has a glow around her kinda like an aura right?” You slam the book closed and move to this super large book about entities and witchcraft.

“Yea..”

“Holy fuck. Your friend, might just be the Grand One. The Grand One is someone chosen by the evil sprites to possess the grand power. It can be anyone, or anything at anytime for any reason. But they tend to sway towards people who have practiced and studied dark magic. If this chick gets anymore powerful, which i’m assuming she will, if you’re telling me the truth, she can wreak extreme havoc on New York. But that’s all if you believe in that mumbo jumbo anyway.” You slam the book closed and put it back on the shelf before walking away to your desk again. It was different outside, you could see through the large windows that the atmosphere had changed.

“Um. Thanks y/n, you helped out a lot” Peter and his friend Ned smiled as they left my building, whispering to each other.

You’d forgotten about the Grand One. It was simply just a dream you’d had when you were little. Telling you what would become of you. The people you would hurt and the chaos you’d reign. You thrived in chaos, reveled in it even, but it was a certain chaos. It was the frustration of everyone around you, knowing they’re just not smart enough, or strong enough not worth enough. It was the slow, dark, treaterous journey to the depths of hell that got your blood really moving.

At least, that’s how it was in the dreams. In real life, you weren’t exactly sure what was going on. You were too busy living day to day hoping that it’s all gonna be enough one day.

But what if, no, she wouldn’t have chosen you, she shouldn’t have chosen you. You weren’t meant to be the one to destroy the city. You weren’t Loki, you were just Hells Angel, low-level villanary. So why was the world trying to make you more powerful. It’s not what you wanted. But who dares be ungrateful when the gift of the Grand One is bestowed upon them, it certainly was quite a gift.

You shake your head and get back to work, waiting until it’s time to go home. When the time does come for you to go home, once again the atmosphere of the world has changed. It seems almost, sinister in a way. Like everyone knows it’s all ending tonight, they’re just not sure how or why.

You step through your house and hear thunder begin to roll outside, Shovel darts across the room and behind your legs. You weren’t expecting storms tonight, just then a strike of lightning lights up the entire room and you hear Eddie flip out upstairs.

fight

destroy

You spun your head around to see who could possibly have whispered that in your ear. You grab a knife you have and slowly inspect your room and apartment, you find nothing.

take

kill

THERE IT WAS AGAIN! A whisper, barely there but still strong enough to have you almost trembling in fear.

y/n

“who are you? what do you want” You felt so cheesy yelling those cliche lines.

you

Suddenly, you’re pushed down to your knees, when you look up you see her. She looks just like the picture in the old book you’d shown Peter and Ned just hours before. Her old face clouded in a dark fog like aura. Her eyes were red and empty, her long boney finger reached for you.

i have traveled years

to show you your destiny

my fate is now yours

Was this bitch really speaking in haikus right now? And what was she talking about? She continued to repeat her haiku from hell and seemed to get closer to you.

“If you’re the Grand One, does that mean i’m the one who you’re gonna possess?” You ask at her. She doesn’t answer just gets louder and closer.

You get a splitting pain in your head, it feels like someone is driving a knife between your cranium. You scream out and cover your ears as the witch gets louder and louder.

Then everything is silent, the witch is gone and so is the pain in your head. You look around and you feel normal. You sit on your bed in shock.

Was she in you now? Were you possessed? What would happen now?

you’ve always been possessed

i’ve been here for some time now

you recognize that voice! That’s Hells Angel, her voice drops am octave lower than yours and she speaks slowly but more confident. You’re going crazy.

You hear a knock on your door.

“Y/n? Are you okay? It’s Eddie, We-uh- I heard you screaming”

You stumble to the door and rip it open trying to fix your hair.

“Eddie, hey. Yea i’m fine. Just got a little frustrated with um, the TV. You know how Family Fued can get” You out on your best fake smile and lean against the door frame. Trying not to let Shovel out. “Are you okay? I know you don’t like storms and that lighting was weird” You speak trying to change the subject.

“Oh yea, just uh, caught us, me. It caught me off guard. Well, just wanted to check on you. So uh, goodnight y/n. Let me know if you need anything” He bods before sticking his hands in his hoodie pockets and walking up the stairs at the end of the hall.

You shut the door and walk back to your bed, ready to just go to sleep. You settle in and close your eyes almost asleep.

tonight’s the night 

“oh for fucks sake”

taglist: @detroitconnorfangirl @unicorn-sparkles123 @shallowshawn

[drrjsb]

Body and Soul: The Endgame Fix

Part 5: Lunch and Learn

Summary: It's still Monday, Oct. 30, 2023. Bruce drives Natasha through his adopted town of Bridgewater and on to his house. News travels fast. They have company waiting.

[Monday, Oct. 30, 2023] It was a pleasant ride to Bridgewater with no real traffic since it was only about 11:00 am on a Monday, and the highway route he took was mostly through the countryside. It didn’t hurt that it was Autumn and everything was tinged golden, crimson, and orange, especially the hard maples and oaks. It was good to be away from the muddy pit and construction at the Compound. It was even better to have Natasha finally coming home with him.

Bruce could have taken the second exit and arrived home by a quicker route, but he’d wanted to show her the historic part of the town that he’d adopted or, more actually, that chose to adopt him. There was a bit of a strip mall out by the highway, but “Old Bridgewater” (or just “Downtown” to the locals) was picturesque with a river cutting through the middle of town and several beautiful arched stone bridges and Victorian-style houses and other striking architecture.

At one time, it had been a mill town and produced woven fabrics, but those days were far in the past. Now it was a quaint, bedroom community headed toward being an outer, outer suburb with a little light industry and tech to go with some agriculture that had been given a boost by the Decimation. Nat was surprised at the number of people who recognized them and waved from the sidewalk at Bruce. He’d rolled his window down to return their casual waves. She smiled as she realized he genuinely enjoyed the interactions and wondered if any of them were “Hulkies” like Marsha had mentioned.

Bruce laughed when a couple of preschool-aged kids pointed eagerly at their vehicle while they waited on a red light to change. The small girl and boy both broke into bicep-flexing poses. He returned the flexed salutes with one of his own. “Hulk out!” he called to them, and they squealed with glee. “You can always tell the kids who’ve watched the Go Green Science  videos because they get all excited like that. Sometimes I think it’s really the HX everyone is impressed with since it’s unusually large. To most of the local folks, seeing me or the vehicle isn’t such a big deal anymore unless they’ve just been snapped back, so there’s just kind of a wave hello to a neighbor. ‘Nice to see you.’ I like that about this place.” Nat thought he was being modest about some of the attention. She’d spotted a few people sneaking pictures, too. Were they Hulkies?

Just when they seemed to have reached the end of town, he’d taken a turn to the right and paralleled the river as it flowed around a bend. When they came around the curve and the trees no longer obstructed the view, Natasha’s mouth dropped open. “You bought a castle?!”

Bruce laughed, “No, it’s just a big crazy Victorian-style house with some round rooms and stonework. It has three and a half stories and a finished basement. The mill and warehouse are also Victorian era, like most of Main Street, on the outside, but I have cutting-edge lab and workshop space inside.”

“Your house has turrets, Bruce. It’s a castle.”

“Fine, I’m ‘The Beast’ in a castle now,” he joked, deepening his voice. “I guess that makes you Belle?”

“I’d be your Belle. Got a library?” Natasha teased back.“Do I have a library?! Have you been impersonated by a Skrull for five years?” He was completely happy to see her smile and joke with him again; it gave him faith they could at least try to make a go of it together this time. He hadn’t exactly rebuilt the house and grounds just for her, but he’d put a lot of his love for her into it with the vague hope that someday she’d see it. Now, he hoped she’d fall in love with it as he had.

The gravel crunched under the HX’s wheels as Bruce pulled up to the gate in the decorative, yet substantial steel fence surrounding the property. There was a camera, but no gatehouse, and he rolled the window down and pressed in a code on a panel then let it read his left thumbprint. Bruce scanned the driveway ahead that forked off to the house on the left and the old factory complex with the labs on the right. “That’s kind of weird. Usually, Sirius is front and center as soon as he hears the car on the gravel. Maybe Vella shut him inside by accident before she left?” he hypothesized. He didn’t believe it for a minute, but no need to go on high alert just yet. After the metal gate rolled back, Bruce drove cautiously down the drive and parked the vehicle in its usual spot in the driveway where the pavement circled behind the house, near the back porch. “Please do me a favor and sit tight for a minute, Nat. I want to see where the dog is.” Bruce opened up a panel above the rearview mirror and pointed to a toggle switch. “I want you to flip this when I get out. The vehicle is a bunker if it needs to be. With you just back . . .”

“Do you have a gun in here?” Natasha demanded, her voice all business.

“Promise me you won’t get out of the car unless it’s 100% necessary.”

“80%.”

“Deal. I have one of your old Glock 26s in that wooden box in the backseat. It’s loaded, 10 shots, but I don’t have any extra rounds. Also, I have neighbors within earshot, and I would prefer not to scare them shitless.”

“Got it. I promise I will sit tight until things go south.”

“Make that 80% south,” Bruce reminded her before he left Natasha in the HX. She was as good as her word and engaged the “bunker” mode, which involved a form of nanotech that reinforced the existing plating, extended it down to the ground, and covered the glass and tires. He hadn’t told her how to disengage the shielding, so he hoped she’d sit tight and let him deal with whoever was here. He was pretty sure he had an idea whom that might be since no sensors were tripped.

“Sirius! Here, boy!” Bruce called and then whistled. There wasn’t the usual happy bark and scrambling of toenails on wood and stone as the big black mix charged out the pet door or careened around the corner of the porch, so Bruce turned to the trees surrounding the backyard. “Barton, if you’re holding my dog hostage, don’t expect to be invited to lunch.”

“I’m not holding it hostage. I just want to talk to whoever you have with you and make sure you aren’t getting made a fool of,” called a familiar raspy voice from behind him. Clint dropped down from the roof on the far corner of the porch. Bruce was relieved to see he wasn’t wearing his “Ronin” gear though he did have his bow and quiver over some basic tac clothing.

“Where is my dog?” Bruce asked, sounding stern.

“It went in the door thing. Hasn’t come back out.”

“Why would that be?”

“It wasn’t exactly staying quiet.” Bruce scowled at him. “It may have gotten a little sleeping gas before he went to bed.”

“You gassed my dog.”

“It’ll be fine in about an hour.”

“I cannot believe you gassed my dog,” Bruce said in a low growl.

“It’s a big dog with a bigger bark, okay!?”

Bruce didn’t mean to be losing his temper, but now he was pissed off. “He’s an overgrown puppy for crying out loud, Clint, not a guard dog. Try a dog treat.” He unclenched the fingers of his right hand again and stepped back. It never helped to loom over smaller people unless you really wanted to fight them or make them piss their pants, he reminded himself. No, he really didn’t want to fight Clint. “Why the fuck couldn’t you just use a phone or wait on the front porch?”

“You could have called. Instead, I had to overhear this from Fury talking to Carol,” the archer accused.

Dammit, Danvers, update your security protocols (or quit having Clint do your dirty work if that’s what was going on), Bruce thought. “I’ve been a little too busy making sure Nat was okay. You gassed the dog, so now what do you have planned to do to Natasha, hmm? Because this IS Natasha. OUR Natasha!”

“How the hell do you know? You weren’t there on Vormir. You didn’t see her let go. That  was Natasha,” Clint said through gritted teeth. They both stared at each other, filled with grief and anger and guilt. It wasn’t necessary, not now, not anymore, but it was hard to let go.

Part of Bruce wanted to step forward and backhand Barton into the next county for all the time he’d had with Natasha that he hadn’t and for failing to die when both Bruce and Hulk would have done it in a heartbeat, but Bruce reminded himself that it no longer made any sense to be jealous and petty about any of it. That wasn’t Nat who died. It was a horrible sacrifice that still had meaning, but it wasn’t one the real Natasha had been fated to make. He straightened back up from the defensive crouch he’d been slipping into and relaxed both hands. Bruce kept his voice low and calm. “Don’t remind me. We were both fooled, Clint. If you want to talk to her, put your weapons on the porch. All of them.” Clint didn’t seem convinced. “Dude, if you don’t believe me, call Maximov. All four of us there agreed this is our Nat. Now, I need to see how the pup is and get Natasha settled because she’s had one hell of a five years, too. Disarm or get the hell off my property. Now.”

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